Why Are We Here

I am tired, I have put in a long day, and sleep
won't find me quite yet. I have been thinking
about some things and one of them is that
sometimes I get restless, I am not sure why. I
find that I want to go home sometimes, to the
reservation, and to stay there, but in reality I
know that I can't do that.

At times when I deal with people I talk with them
and yet apart of me looks at the their face,
their eyes, how they speak and talk to see if I
can really see the person standing in front of
me. Often times I find that there is a difference
between my experience as an Indian and theirs.
At times I find that what I talk to them is lost,
that when there is some serious discussion on my
part that it is superflous with them, they blow
it off.


At times interest in being Indian, or Navajo is
to talk about some old jewelry they bought, a rug
or someone they knew. At times I long for the
contact I feel that is shared on a different
level with Indians. I have talked about how I
feel a kinship with people on the street, because
they are honest in their behavior and put on no
heirs.


The other day I was in a KFC, and saw an Indian
man, an elderly person sitting in the corner, he
was dressed quite nice and walked over to a table
where an indian girl sat with her baby and talked
to the child. The girl's mother came from
somewhere and told him to get lost.


Another woman, and elderly white woman came up to
the child and she was welcomed as she talked to
the child. The old man went back to his seat and
then finished his drink and left. I left a few
minutes later to see where he had gone, a few
blocks away he went into an apartment house. He
wat not a street person, but for some reason, the
old Indian woman figured he was.


I think he was lonely for his own land in a way,
and wanted some contact with some Indians, albeit
total strangers. He was chased away.


At times I think I am like this man and also like
the woman, and wish I could reach a median where
I could understand others, and thereby myself. I
find that in the presence of others I don't know
I am quiet and reserved. Even though I can talk a
person's leg off because I am curious and ask
alot of questions.


I have heard that as Indians, natives, tribal
members, indigenous peoples, skins, descendants
of indian ancestry or what have you, we sometimes
act like crabs in a five gallon bucket. When onf
of succeeds we tend to reach out and pull the
person back down with us, so that we basically
keep them from getting ahead and lifting them up.
I am quilty of this myself and find that I am
looking for something that I have not found yet
and I am not content. I can't judge anyone, but
yet I make judgements based on experience,
knowledge and the seat of my pants that make no
sense. It is a human frailty.


I will tell you at times I wish I could do
somethings like sing Indian songs. or participate
in some things that are not available to me, but
most of all to have a conversation with someone
of a similar background who talks from the heart
with no heirs or evasion. I miss that from Indian
people and find that it is a rare commodity with
non-Indians, though they are good people, it is
just that they are hard to really know. So as a
result I live with them but don't know them very
well.


I miss my own people, and at times I find myself
wishing I was home, far from here, but yet I am
at a place where I can not go there without some
serious changes to my life. I am looking for
some comfort from the cold wind, a hot cup of
coffee and a place to rest my feet and relax. I
want to hear stories of legends, of how things
were with you and your people, but yet with the
pressure of time, find that I run off before the
cup is half empty. It is the way of life. I hope
that I can find such a spot and meet some others
like myself....but then again I find myself
distant in my own way of doing things....where
will I find rest, where will I go, I grow tired
of the city, the lights, and jabbertalking.....I
wish I could find a rainbow and take it to the
home of the Twin Heros and sit with them on tall
grass and drink cool water and watch my children
as they find happiness in all that they do and
the sun would find me good place where I could
rest my soul, my heart and my mind.....I am so tired.... rustywire