Eliza: Walking in Two Worlds — A Personal Journey
Note to Readers: This is a piece I first wrote in 2013 after returning home from a solo camping trip.
I just spent four days in the favorite ancient lands of the Nez Perce native people, specifically the Wallowa Band of the Nez Perce. It was an important area for this native tribe as it served as the summer grazing and fall hunting grounds of the Wallowa Valley. I was drawn there by its natural beauty, but this time came away with something much more profound.
I stayed in the Wallowa Lake State Park, a large and very popular campground, situated on the southern shore of the glaciated deep blue lake, in NE Oregon State.
For four nights while I stayed at the campground there was an evening program on the Nez Perce War, which took part in 1877 when the American government decided that the non-treaty Wallowa Band of the Nez Perce needed to move or be removed to the reservation located then on the Clearwater River in Idaho. One thing led to another, with guns shooting and arrows flying, the Nez Perce soon found themselves fleeing the U.S. Army in springtime, crossing rivers at flood, as they attempted to herd thousands of horses and cattle, as well as their precious women, children, and elders. A group of 100 warriors was all that protected the people on their perilous journey, made more sorrowful for they were leaving a land that they loved with all their hearts, the Wallowa Valley, the Eagle Cap (the mountains to the south) and the shores of Wallowa Lake, near where the bones of their ancestors were buried and where they had traditionally caught salmon in the fall.
On the last morning of my trip, I stopped at Iwetemlaykin (ee-weh-Temm-lye-kinn) National Heritage Site, a new state park (2009) which commemorates the heritage of the Nez Perce and the power of place as experienced by the people who now live in the area. I had driven by the site several times but had never taken the time to get out and walk there. This time, however, I felt an urge to walk the sacred ground and feel what I would feel… and take some photos from the high grassy mounds of terminal moraine.
As I walked over the grass-covered mounds of glacial moraine, viewing the massive slopes of Chief Joseph Mountain rising above the valley, I felt the presence of an Indian warrior looking through my eyes. His presence was very strong, but not overwhelming. I felt his sorrow, grief, and longing as we viewed the valley, the trees, the grasses, and the mountains.
As I often do, I said a prayer for the dead and those soul fragments that might still be lingering in place, as happens in time of death and sorrow. This site being the beginning of the Nee Mee Poo Trail, the route that the fleeing Nez Perce took in 1877, it is quite understandable that there would be some remaining energies in the place. And it was already a sacred place, a place of power.
We talked, I listened… the words are not important, but the feeling of being thanked for my words was clear. I always call on the legions of Light to take the spirits into the light for healing, for rest and recuperation. I have been doing this, when needed, for many years.
I felt no entity overtake my consciousness, no threat. And the being I spoke with was a noble man, proud, compassionate and a lover of freedom and open spaces as am I. It was as if we were kindred spirits. As I have had a lifetime or two as a Native American and at least one as a sachem or holy man, I felt an affinity for this being, who called himself “White Cloud.”
This was a man, a soul who had experienced being in this place and came in answer to the presence of the light I carry to be set free. On the drive home, we talked some more. White Cloud told me that many of the Nez Perce alive today are the re-embodied souls of the soldiers who pursued the Nez Perce, balancing their karma wrought during those difficult times. It is certainly not true of all the Nez Perce or any people, but souls do seek to balance out wrong doings when they can. In this time of the end of an age and the beginning of another, it is important to release as much as possible so there will be no need for recompense in another lifetime.
Now, this was not the end of my journey on my wee walk through the heritage site (the site of the old Marr Ranch, it consists of 63 acres with trails, a river, two irrigation ditches, trees, and grasslands, with views of the Wallowa Valley and the Wallowa Mountains. Soon after I spoke my prayer for the release of the dead, I saw a small cinnamon phase black bear running through the grass. I was very surprised to see a bear in the open, just above a busy highway. And he was very much like my power animal, a large red bear. I saw it as a sign that my gift of prayer was accepted by the spirits of the place. I was truly touched to my core by the sight and meaning. The bear, to the North American natives, symbolizes healing and strength. The bear stopped momentarily in its flight, standing up and looked at me and then quickly disappeared into the willows at the bottom of the hill.
As I returned to my car, the sense of grief that I first felt while walking along the path had diminished greatly. There was now an abiding sense of peace, as the white clouds floated by above in the bluebird skies of northeastern Oregon. I snapped a few photos of the mountains and soon was on my way, again, homeward bound over the Blues to home, driving through a land that was once home to another people.
Some people in reading this may chalk up my experience to imagination. I don’t mind; I felt what I felt, heard what I heard and experienced the power of the place and the power of walking through two worlds while living in a physical body. There is much in store for those of us who are determined to ascend. We will be able to initiate change and healing by our mere presence. It is not with pride that I write these words, but humility and thanksgiving for being entrusted with such a task.
I am not outwardly driven to do these things; they come as naturally to me as the rain to the mountains. I am now beginning to understand that the spirit that dwells within this aging body is greater than I know. And it is steadily becoming more grounded within this physical vehicle every day.
Since I arrived in the area where I now live, I have spent time exploring the nearby hills, valleys and mountains. Now I know there is a purpose in my meanderings – by our presence we help clear the lands where we live. If we cannot clear the people around us (they must do that work on their own) we can assist nature to recover by releasing old misaligned energies in whatever fashion that occurs to each of us. We all have our own way of approaching our work. It is the gift of being unique individuals, holding unique facets of the diamond light of the Creator within. Also know that while a land may appear empty or without much in the way of human inhabitation, all parts of our planet have been impacted by humans. Our bodies are the gift of the Mother; they are part of the fabric of the planet. So, I feel it is important to do what we can to aid our Mother Earth in her recovery and ascension into lighter frequencies.
Standing on the shoreline of the blue lake, watching the gulls diving for fish, I tried to visualize how it felt over a hundred years ago, knowing that this was your place. The power of place is real and can be felt in special places all across the planet, but the place we all carry within with us at all times, is our heart sanctuary, a place for healing and connection to the greater Self. Part of the journey is discovering this place and sacred connection within. And part of the journey extends outward as we travel through our physical world, meeting people and experiencing big and little adventures such as mine.
Those of us who are actively working on their ascension know that we walk in two and sometimes many more worlds. Our eyes cannot see everything that exists in this world; much less the world of Spirit, but all can be felt through the heart center once you have found your way to that sacred site within your own bodies.
Upon learning what I had seen and experienced while on my trip, my friend Eric commented:
“Well, you know now why you had to go. Sight of a bear? Wow, nice one! It’s great when we get personal, in-your-face messages like that; tunes you in stronger. The energies (that) you felt were left behind, planted, so that they would be there for you.
Lovely to channel the energies as you did, whilst walking in touch with the land and the past it has seen, walking between two worlds, indeed. But that’s why I like spending a lot of time on my own. Other people can be such a distraction merely by their presence. But the distractions are planned, too; just got to go with it.”
I know what he is saying about relishing alone time. Being in a large state park around many strangers would have been a challenge for me in the not so recent past, but this time I managed well. I even created some place for myself as the camping spots on either side of mine were not filled the entire time I was there. It was as if I was within my own protected dome of light and so I was — a place of peace amidst the chaos of a modern gathering spot. Actually, generally the people were quite friendly or just ignored me, like I wasn’t even there. And for some, I probably wasn’t.
So, this little journey has ended, but always another one starts. I hope to meet some of you on it. Namaste.
Note to Readers: Years later, a now former friend insisted I was the reincarnation of Chief Joseph. I didn’t believe it, but certainly felt a kinship with the entity with whom I spent some time chatting while touring by foot through the land left as a memorial to those who once spent their summers in the area.