Vanessa Hammond, Victoria

   Recently I had the pleasure of planning and then co-leading a series of Indigenous Spirituality events in Victoria with Rev. Dr. Martin Brokenleg.
    In advance we talked about the common threads we saw in his First Nations traditions, my Celtic background and what I had experienced around the world, especially in Mongolia. In every case, what knits families together, what enables societies to function in even the harshest conditions, and what gives a sense of belonging, of rightness, is relationships.
    In Martin’s background and my early Celtic background, intentional social change, new laws, major commitments could be undertaken only through consideration of the experience of past generations and the impact on present and future generations.

   Recently I had the pleasure of planning and then co-leading a series of Indigenous Spirituality events in Victoria with Rev. Dr. Martin Brokenleg.
    In advance we talked about the common threads we saw in his First Nations traditions, my Celtic background and what I had experienced around the world, especially in Mongolia. In every case, what knits families together, what enables societies to function in even the harshest conditions, and what gives a sense of belonging, of rightness, is relationships.
    In Martin’s background and my early Celtic background, intentional social change, new laws, major commitments could be undertaken only through consideration of the experience of past generations and the impact on present and future generations.
    Personal relationships stretched and still reach far beyond that modern invention, the nuclear family.  For most of the thousands of years of human existence, the emphasis has been on actions that have strengthened bonds throughout each community and into neighbouring groups. Individual identity, personal entitlement, “it’s all about me” are recent priorities. 
    Part of our discussion during this Indigenous Spirituality weekend was about the simple steps we can take to repair or develop relationships with each other. How even something as basic as listening attentively and asking “why do I not do it that way” when encountering something new, rather than thinking “why do they not do it my way?” When we are appreciatively interested and curious, we deeply enjoy meeting the “other” and we enrich our own lives. And the new relationships can become rock solid.
    We also thought about the relationship with that which is beyond comprehension. Can we ever understand the creativity that has led to this immense universe, the billions of stars, forms of matter and energy that we can merely start to contemplate through theoretical physics, the stupendous variety of life on just this one planet?  And yet it is in our nature to be curious, to try to understand. 
    Almost every culture has tried to explain creation. In some we have imagined the creator in our own image, an image that is depicted as elderly and male. In other cultures creation has been seen as the achievement of many beings working together, working in relationship –  an idea that might have resulted in very different relationships within our current society.
    So how can we imagine or even develop relationship with the unknowable, the immense, the source of all? Possibly, just possibly, it can happen when we stop trying to be the creator, the controller, when we just let ourselves be absorbed into the creativity, the reality of the mystery.  
    Our discussion led into the question of relationship with all that is created, and all that is part of the ongoing process of creation. We were discomforted by the relationship of control and utility that have become the norm in the way we live today. We were drawn by the Lakota idea of seeing the rocks and stones at the heart of creation –  not a stretch of the imagination for anyone living in an earthquake zone, or near the ocean, or in a land scared and built by glaciers. We were equally drawn to the Celtic idea of the whole of creation being contained within, and containing, the mystery of the creator. 
    It’s interesting how many of us have a rock, a stone, a memory of a hard place that is also a symbol solidity, security and, in the Celtic tradition, our place of resurrection, the place where we both hold the imprint of our families and where we feel most strongly the potential to contemplate what of true value we can leave as our legacy. Finding these places of resurrection whether here at home, or as part of our annual Island Pilgrim journey to Ireland, is always a time of special meaning, a time that builds relationship with land, predecessors, and  those who will follow us and especially a sense of connection to the unfathomable creator and all that is created. 
    This feeling of “rock solid” is visible in the geology of Ireland as it is in Canada, but also in the massive stone circles, court tombs, dolmens, through to the high crosses and the early churches. This legacy stretches from the Stone Age, before Stonehenge and the Egyptian pyramids,  to the coming of the Celts to the arrival of early Christianity, all richly visible in every part of the island.
    It is often among these places that we feel a strong connection to our roots, a relationship to each other, to the creator and all of creation. This is equally true for anyone with an Irish, Scottish or Welsh background or a non-Celt with an interest in the roots of our culture, from literature to hymn tunes, from language to dance to food. To find out more about places of resurrection, standing stones, high crosses and other aspects of the Celtic heritage or about the September 2013 Island Pilgrims journey to Ireland, please email me. Thinking about how we can strengthen our relationships to our roots and to all of creation is both a delight and an endless fascination.