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Be as a Question
(Unedited tape transcript)
In the time of the Old
Ones, when our ancestors still walked the Beauty Way, there lived a
woman called She Bear and a man known as Looks Far. They felt deep
love for each other — they were of shared soul. After they were
joined in ceremony, they went to build their lodge beside the rapids
upriver from the main camp. In a short time they were blessed with
the birth of a daughter, who was given the name Sees-Like-Frog.
One day while out
checking their fishtraps they heard a series of frantic yelps coming
from far up the rapids. The sound was so intense and piercing that it
carried over the gushing sound of the rippling waters. They listened
intently trying to figure out the source of the sound, but the yelps
grew fainter and soon there were no more.
A few moments later
something bumped She Bear her in the back of the leg as she was
standing the water bent over the fishtrap. She jumped with a start,
dropped the fish she had just grabbed and spun around to see a
waterlogged Wolf pup, face down in the water as though drowned.
Instantly she recognized him as the source of the yelps and
instinctively picked him up and began to rub him.
His mouth gave a slight
quiver. He was not dead. She rubbed him all the more vigorously and
pressed upon his chest to help him breathe. In no time he was
coughing and wheezing trying to catch breathe on his own. She dried
him with soft grasses and warmed him in the folds of her body and
soon he was meowing and whimpering as contentedly as though nothing
had happened.
“But now what?” she
asked of Looks Far, who had been watching all this intently.
“He is much too young
to be on his own, his eyes are barely open.”
“Will his mother come
back for him?”
“For some reason the
she-wolf must have been moving her pups across the stream.” Looks
Far said, “And for some reason, perhaps she slipped on a rock,
dropped this one. The current must have pulled him away from her
before she could grab him.”
“Perhaps she was
reluctant to leave the rest of her pups behind to rescue this one, or
I should think we’d have seen her by now.”
“It may be that he is
our gift, that we are intended to caretake him.
“If that be so I will
nurse him. He is one of my own, as my Dodem is Ma’ingan”
She Bear said. “He is too young to eat and I have milk enough to
share between both him and our baby.” And so they raised the two
babes together, as brother and sister. They called him Rock Dancer in
honor of his mother and of the way he came to them.
The next turn of the
season went peacefully as both pup and child grew together. In the
time when the child was leaving the cradleboard and taking her first
steps it was again time to tend to the fishtraps in the rapids. One
morning after ShadowMoon left to gather nettle in the downstream
meadow Looks Far went down the bank to check the fishtrap just below
the lodge. Sees-Like-Frog was sleeping in the furs at the back of the
lodge and Rock Dancer was on guard outside the door. Shortly
after Looks Far waded into the river he heard an agonizing scream
pierce the still morning air. He knew the voice, it was his child. He
raced up the bank, first into the lodge, there to greet him was the
Wolf with blood on his mouth. Looks Far rushed past Rock Dancer to
the back of the lodge only to find Sees-Like-Frog gashed open and
laying lifeless in a pool of blood.
In a mindless rage he
spun around, grabbed his hunting club and sent it crushing into the
skull of the Wolf. Then he fell to his knees, released the club and
soberly crawled over to behold the tragedy of his babe. As he leaned
over to touch her he saw a bloodied track exiting the lodge covering
right behind the baby’s bed. The father’s heart stopped and he
let out a wail of agony that quieted everything, even the river. The
tracks were of a Cougar, the old crippled one who they had seen
hanging around to steal in close in the night to scavenge a meager
meal of fish scraps. Rock Dancer had attacked the Cougar to defend
the babe, which is why he had blood on his mouth.
Down river She Bear
heard the scream that stilled all other sound! She dropped her basket
and bolted for home. The wail shook her like a peal of deafening
thunder after a lightning strike. Even louder to her was the silence
after the wail. It was as though death itself had a voice that only
she could hear. Immediately the fear that only a mother can know rose
in her breast like the burning heart of a volcano about to erupt. She
saw images flashing before her of her babe swaddled peacefully in the
furs and of the aged starving cat lurking menacing around the
perimeter of their camp.
Her worst fears could
not have prepared her for the sight that greeted her — across the
threshold of the lodge lay Rock Dancer, his head misshapen and
bloody.
In the shadows at the
side of the lodge sat a man who was barely recognizable to her. There
she found her mate sitting before their lodge, his hair hacked off,
his face smeared with black ash. He had slashed himself twice across
his chest. He was marked with the agony of death! Each gash was
slowly dripping the fluid of life into the death-bringing wrenched
hands that lay in his lap.
He barely acknowledged
her as she touched his face and then turned to enter the lodge. She
couldn’t breathe. Her pounding heart pained her eyes and crackled
in her ears. As she stooped to enter the low doorway she came face to
face with the listless form that was once her babe’s unswerving
guardian and companion.
A second soul-searing
wail, this time from her, rose like a tidal wave and stilled again
all of life as it crashed through the forest.
They laid the Wolf
before the child just as they had been in life and lit fire to the
lodge so that the spirits of the babe and the Wolf would travel
together to spirit lodge where they would now dwell. Then they
returned to their people who clothed them in castaway skins and fed
them as they mourned for a full turn of the seasons.
In the final days of
their mourning they sought the counsel of their Elders who guided
them in their meditations and envisionings to know the profound
teaching they’d been given. Soon thereafter she became with child
and a new joy rooted in the wisdom of their teachings took hold in
their lives. Their family grew and flourished and the example of
their life — to honor the question in every voice and every
movement — inspired many.
Their guiding voice rings
down through the ages. Here, laced with the teachings from my own
failing to remember the question, I will share with you the echo of
their words so that perhaps the question’s guidance can be known to
you with less pain.
I’m more impressed with
intelligent questions than right answers. The questioning process
leads to answers, and well-developed Attunement and Awareness skills
lead to questions which are actually clues to the answer. Even if the
answer can be arrived at quickly, improper or incomplete questioning
will not bring the desired depth of feeling or understanding of the
answer.
For example, a short while
ago two Seekers brought me a conifer branch they wished me to
identify for them. If I did so, they would have their answer and
likely be content, learning little about neither the tree nor the
learning process. So I turned the question back to them, along with
some guidance as to where to find their answers.
I discourage their use of
field guides “in the field”, as books can give answers almost as
quickly as can I. Instead, I encourage them to ask the plant who she
is — why she is growing where she is, who her neighbors are, why
she is structured the way she is in consideration of her
neighborhood. Then I suggest they flow into the plant so they can
feel thirst and sun and wind as does the plant.
A person’s potential to
learn is more important to me than what he already knows. I gain a
feel for that potential by the questions he asks rather than the
answers he gives. His questions give me insight into how his mind
works, his perspective, his potential adaptability. Questions unfold
your future, answers reflect your past. So your growth would benefit
more from an insightful question than a knowledgeable answer. Both
your time and that of your guide would be better spent questing the
unknown than restating the past.
I do not give the Seekers
whom I Guide, tests in the standard sense. I give them challenges and
scenarios that stimulate them to ask themselves the questions that
will lead to the knowledge they need. This is seldom the knowledge
they seek, for they are looking into the unknown— their own future,
and know not what they will find. One thing they do find with this
approach is that their life with the Mother unfolds as a series of
questions, one blossoming into another, rather than graspable
answers, as they had been taught in their rational lives in boxes. Questions
reflect flow, answers are concrete. Questions stimulate, answers
state. Questions travel, they carry you like the flow of a stream;
answers sit, they hold you as would a weighty stone upon your back.
An insightful question reflects depth; a knowledgeable answer
displays storage.
An answer feeds you; a
question teaches you how to find food. A question brings knowledge in
your language; an answer speaks in a foreign tongue. A question
honors your time, your ways; an answer asks that you adapt to its
time and ways. An answer shows you a facet of the crystal; a
question takes you inside the crystal, were you are bathed in a
kaleidoscopic rainbow of its faceted light.
The root of the word
‘question’ is quest. Quest!
Be as a Question
Additions
“Native People are not
prone to think in absolutist terms. The awareness that things are not
always as they seem is reflected in their speech; they leave room for
other possibilities. A couple of statements illustrating this would
be: "Moon Hawk left the Cranberry Lake last night, I think,"
and "Grandmother died in her sleep last night, perhaps."
Likewise, Native nouns tend to be less blunt and categorical
(pigeonholing) than Civilized nouns.
– from Journey To The Ancestral Self
Procrastination is not
necessarily avoidance; oftentimes it is purposeful waiting until a
decision has to be made.
To Be as Question helps
guard against rigidity and dogmatism. "one way" truth is
only the truth of the moment. We gain new information in every
moment. A Native benefits from Clan Knowledge, which is the
cumulative information held by the Elders. He can avail himself of
the Clan knowledge for perspective, and to find out what has and
hasn't worked in the past. This Clan Knowledge is fluid, constantly
evolving. Because of continually changing variables, a Native has to
be continually open and considering. There are few constants in his
life; the weather is ever-changing, animals are ever-moving, needs
are ever-evolving. So the only way he can dwell in balance with the
Moment is to Be As a Question..
The way to ask a question is
to empty yourself to put aside what you think you know, so that you
are completely open to the answer. Or to the next question that
comes, if that be the case. Most of us ask questions that are laden
with preconceptions which prevent us from really being free to
explore for the answer. An answer that comes from such a strictured
question cannot be trusted. It is like a stream that is forced to
flow in a preconstructed channel; it is not a pure answer.
We need to be as a
question, not ask questions. For example, when we ask questions about
options/choices we limit ourselves to those options. When we become
as a question, we open ourselves to the Greater Awareness, where
options exist that we may not have considered.
In this way you learn things
more slowly, yet in the long run you learn much more, and with
greater understanding. When you have a teacher or a book pouring
information into you, all you have is that information--you have to
keep going back for more if you want to grow. Here you will learn how
to learn. Your questions will be answered with questions and guidance
that will help you to gain the answers yourself, in your own time and
way. That way you will have much more depth of understanding, and you
will have the skills to go on after the course and keep learning. It
is like the hungry person who asks me for a fish. If I give him the
fish he will keep coming back for fish whenever he is hungry. If I
show him how to fish, he will be able to feed himself and continue
feeding himself. And he will be able to go and teach others how to
fish. Would you like a fish, or would you like to learn how to fish?
I do little active hunting
because it interferes with my attunement to what is intended for me.
If I killed a Deer once when my family was hungry I would not have
walked on to discover the Deer with two broken legs who asked me to
release his life; one day Trout Spirit gifted me one of his own,
freshly died and floating before me, that I would not have been able
to accept, or perhaps not even see, had I stopped upstream to fish
for lunch. The same with a gift from Duck Spirit one chill autumn
day, and numerous other varied incidents.
Deliberate hunting would
also stifle the development of my awareness and adaptive skills. For
example, if I set out with a goal in mind, such as trapping a Beaver
or catching Grasshoppers, my focus could keep me from being inventive
and exploring and discovering new foods. Time and again I've found
Clam beds, Nettle patches, Rabbit colonies, or perhaps a previously
unknown berry, because I set out without expectation, allowed other
voices to guide me, and challenged my knowledge, skills and senses.
MENTAL PATTERNS — QUESTION
(Additions)
A Woman was returning back
to her camp from gathering acorns. She came across a hungry Man and
gave him three acorns. She gathered two more to replace the three.
Then she came across a hungry Child and did the same, and so it went
all the way back to her camp. Yet, when she arrived she had a full
basket of acorns. How could this be?
Those of us who are locked
into our mental patterns will typically try to come up with any
number of ways that she could keep the same volume of nuts while
purportedly replacing every three nuts given away with only two.
Someone who begins as a question will not have made the assumption
that she began the trip home with only one basket of nuts. He will
be able to see right away that she may well have been carrying more
than one basketful.
“I noticed that...about
my teachers...you never could ask them questions or expect to get
answers from them because they said that it was not up to them to
give you answers. The reason that they didn’t give you answers is
because they didn’t want you to get stuck believing that they had
the answers and therefore you had to go to them. They wanted you to
learn that the answers have to come from within yourself. Any time
you ask a question, you already have the answer. Whether you want to
believe it or not, of course, is your problem, not theirs. That’s
one of the teachings.”
–
Beautiful Painted Arrow (Joseph Rael), Southern Ute and Picuris
Pueblo Indian, from his book House of Shattering Light,
2003
When life is a
question, life remains vibrant, exciting, challenging. When we live
life according to answers we have found, life becomes rote,
predictable, dull. Some people go into depression, others become
dissatisfied, change careers, mates.
When our old answers are no
longer taking care of us, perhaps it is time to be asking different
questions. The goal of the questions is not to find answers, but to
become involved in the process of questing. A life of fulfillment is
a life of eternal questing; a life of mediocrity is a life based on
some ultimate answer we think we have found.
“I notice that you’re
rather slow in expressing your opinions or beliefs,” some people
will tell me. That’s because I would rather ask questions. If
someone thinks or feels differently than me, I’m curious as to why
and what I might be able to learn from that person. It does me little
good to repeat what I already know; it could do me a world of good to
learn from others who know things I do not and who can see things in
ways that I’m not able.
“These Talth (wise ones) are…slow
to speak in matters of decision.” 49pg.147Che-na-wah
Weitch-ah-wah, Yurok elder woman, 1800s
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