Preface

Kindling the Native Spirit: Sacred Practices for Everyday Life - Denise Linn 2015


Preface

Sometimes I think I can hear the ancient ones whispering. On silent, windless nights, when the stars are bright against a black sky, I lie in bed and I’m sure I can hear the voices of my native ancestors. These whispers come to me at points of intersection in my life; they call me to the wisdom of the natural realm. They remind me that every decision has consequences and to be mindful of the journey. When I take the time to be still and listen, I can feel the native spirit emerging.

The native spirit surfaces in many forms. I felt its arrival early one misty morning, as I stood alone at the edge of an isolated mountain lake in the Cascade Mountains. Mists shrouded the water; everything was still. Not a bird or an insect—nothing—not even the subtle sound of water lapping at the shore. Total stillness. It felt like the world had inhaled, and now it was waiting. Waiting for the next breath? Waiting for something big to happen? I didn’t know. I felt like I’d also inhaled, and I was also waiting. But for what?

Then the world around me seemed to exhale, the song of birds pierced through the mists. I could hear the lapping sound of the water at the shore. Sunshine began to filter through the thick fog, and the water sparkled in places where the light had penetrated. Remarkably, the rising mists seemed to be shifting into strange shapes. When I refocused my eyes, I “saw” thousands of luminous beings almost as if they were hovering just above the surface of the lake. There was a solidarity and nobility in their countenance. Without knowing how, I knew these were my ancestors. It was not just my Native American ancestors . . . it was all of my ancestors. There were so many of them; I could see them to the farthest end of the lake and beyond, as if they were floating out of the mountains and across the surface.

They said nothing, but I had the feeling of a powerful community standing together who were saying, “You’re a young sprout on a very old root. We’re here for you. Remember, you’re not alone.” Then, just as the mists evaporated, so too their diaphanous forms dissolved into the sunlight.

I knew something important had happened, but I didn’t know what it meant. However, looking back at this event in my life, I feel certain that my ancestors were foreshadowing this book, shepherding and gently encouraging me to write it.

Sometimes the call from the voices of spirit may be dramatic like my experience in the mountains, but most of the time it’s like a soft breeze or a nudge in your dreams. It might have even been “a call” that brought this book into your hands. If so, I’m glad. My intent is that Kindling the Native Spirit becomes a mystic map that lights the way for you to follow in the footsteps of the wise ones who have gone before you. And in a deeper way, it can also help ignite the majestic native soul that dwells within you, which in turn reestablishes your connection to the sacred whole.

As you journey through these pages, you’ll be invited to step outside of ordinary reality into the realm of the natural world where Spirit dwells. When you do so, the native spirit that exists within you will awaken, and then everything changes . . . in remarkable and mystical ways.

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