The Briar Philosopher - Bearly Human

I haven’t written much about the Native American side of myself lately. But I saw something on TV the other night that got my Injun up. I know a lot of people won’t agree with me on this topic but that’s OK. We’ll agree to disagree if it comes to that.

What got under my skin was this. They’re considering taking the grizzly bear off the endangered species list because their numbers in the Yellowstone area have tripled since they were put on the list. That may sound reasonable but that original number was 200. We’re just talking about 600 grizzlies.

Now, it is true that grizzlies have a very wide range and it is true that at times they tend to wander outside the territory (read reservation) to which we’ve assigned them and it’s true that they will take a domesticated animal from time to time. They have no understanding of property ownership and can’t see boundary lines and don’t understand that some food isn’t for eating. It is also true that no grizzly has wandered into anybody’s yard and hurt someone in 100 years. Besides, who is in whose yard anyway?

I’m sure it’s just the Indian in me making me talk that way. What reasonable, rational person would take a bear’s side. Only an Indian with their reverence for all of creation and all that bologna or some crack pot environmentalist would dare to suggest that we shouldn’t kill everything that in any way makes us uncomfortable or impedes our personal or societal right to worship Almighty Progress.

I know I’m ranting but I do take it personally. I know that removal from that list is tantamount to signing the death warrant of some amazing creatures that are beneficial to the circle of life and that also mean a great deal to me.

Now, the question may be, “Why would a little sawed off briar from Kentucky, Indian or not, feel such a strong sense of connection with grizzly bears?” There aren’t even any grizzles in Kentucky.

It was the bears’ idea really.
In most Native American cultures people have what we call “medicine animals”. They’re sort of like furry guardian angels I guess. In most cases you don’t pick your medicine animal. They pick you. I was very young when the grizzly “picked me”.

I started dreaming about them when I was so young that I don’t remember how old I was. In the beginning they’d just show me things and play with me. As I got older they started talking to me - giving me simple words of advice and encouragement and sometimes discipline. I didn’t dream about them all the time. Mostly only when I was troubled or worried or afraid. They were a comfort. They still are.

It wasn’t too long ago that I was dealing with some old mind junk - trying to clear some of the old garbage out of my head - and wasn’t dealing with it very well. I was feeling alone with the burden and feeling sorry for myself because it seemed like no one understood or cared that what was happening to me was very painful.

One of my bear/angels came into my dreams. There are three of them, one grandfather, one grandmother and a cub. It was the grandfather silver tip who showed up this time. I was sitting cross legged under a tree when he walked up, lay down in front of me and rested his massive head on his front paws. He had to do this for us to be at eye level. He just looked at me with those huge, brown as earth, wise old eyes of his and I poured my heart out - all my tears and frustration and anger; told him everything I was dealing with and that I didn’t think I could bear it - that the struggle I was having with myself was more than I could do.

When I finished he let me cry into his massive shoulder while he made comforting sounds of compassion. He nudged me up as my sobs subsided then looked me straight in the eye, seeing all the way to my soul, and said, “Little one, Sometimes you’ve got to stand on all five fours.”

Translation - Sometimes you’ve got to do more than you possibly can do. I laughed and woke up. Those few words helped a lot - not because I stopped having a hard time or hurting inside. I didn’t. It just gave me an understanding that I wasn’t alone - an understanding that everybody finds themselves in a position at one time or another when they have to do more than they believe possible.

Some of them find a way, reach deep and find that extra strength within them, that extra leg to stand on, that they didn’t believe existed. They find the energy and the courage to do more than they thought they could do and make it through. Some don’t.

It also helped me to quit feeling sorry for myself and focus on what I knew to be true - that what I was going through was a good and necessary thing and that a new, stronger, happier person would emerge from that binding cocoon I was struggling against. It was a rebirth of sorts and all births are painful.
So, I stood on all five fours and I’m still standing, will be standing till they nail the lid down.

That wasn’t the first time my furry guardian angels helped me out and it won’t be the last. Of that I’m certain. Those bears have taught me more about what it means to be human over the years that any one two-legged critter ever has.

I guess that makes me bearly human, or maybe it makes them bearly human. Either way, I know in my little Injun soul that they are a part of me and a threat to their real-life selves feels like a threat to some part of myself.

For me, their removal from the endangered species list feels like a declaration of war on guardian angels and I don’t know of anyone who would consider that a good thing.

I doubt I’ve changed anybody’s mind on the issue. But maybe you’ll have a better understanding of another perspective. Some of us really do consider all of creation sacred - much more sacred than idols and icons and the material things so many find so important. All life is sacred - created by god and therefore to be treated with respect.

In the bible it does say that we were given “dominion” over the earth and were to “rule over it.” I don’t believe and never will believe that rulership was meant to be a tyranny. I believe we were to be stewards of the earth not Stalins, eliminating everything that we feel the least bit threatened by. To me, that’s sacrilege. I may be wrong, but that’s a chance I can’t bear to take.