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I’m at the beach this weekend and wanted to give you a different perspective in tribal traditions. So, I bring you a guest post by Alexander of BIDE (Benevolence In Dharmic Exploration).

Thank you, Nneka, for letting me guest post here!

I’m going to share a bit of my personal experience with Indian Spirituality. It’s not very wide but it’s certainly deep…

Disclaimer: I’m a Caucasian of Hungarian/Scottish ancestry and was raised by two ministers–Mom and Dad.

Like many America children, I took both sides of the Cowboy and Indian antipathy we were handed. The grueling treatment of the Indians by white-folk and their one-sided portrayal in the media didn’t stop me from admiring them.

When I was about nine, my summer church camp had an Indian theme for my two-week session. My mom asked if I’d like to dress up as an Indian and be at the camp entrance to greet the other campers. Imagine the whooping that came from my little frame!

I took my job ultra-seriously and sat on a short, fat concrete pillar at the gate, cross-legged and as stock-still and proud as I could muster. The “Noble Redskin” persona must have gotten to me and it was an acceptance of identity at an extremely deep level–I treated being a temporary Indian more seriously than I treated my parent’s Faith.

In fact, I truly felt that if I did things “right” I could grow up to BE an Indian…

It’s mysteriously important and an indication of my future travels on the Spiritual Path that me-at-nine was more spiritual about being an Indian at summer camp than me-at-nine was about being a Christian minister’s son.

Naturally, through the years, I’ve often taken various side roads through Indian history and lore and even went to live in Oklahoma City for a spell to observe modern Indians at work and play.

My absolutely most compelling and satisfying experience was the most traditionally spiritual–a sweat lodge. If you’ve never been in one, I can’t urge you strongly enough to strive to locate people who will give you a chance to bless yourself this way!

From the dusk preparation of the fire and hefting of the rocks for heating, to the submissive crawling through the womb-like entrance, to the hanging of the ceremonial offerings to All My Relations, to the suffocating reaction to the all-pervasive steam that was “taken away” by an overwhelming sense of trust in the process, to the intimate sharing of prayers, to the lifting of concern over trivial and mundane affairs, to the return through the tunnel to the immense beauty of the sparkling heavens.

This was true Worship! This was fine Therapy! This was the closest I ever got to growing up to BE an Indian…