The story of Sedna for me is a woven reminder of compassion and resilience towards ourselves and others, especially after a series of traumatic events. When we feel as if we are being cut off from our roots, our family, our sense of community, its important to acknowledge our power within.
When it’s clear skies and I know the sunset will be amazing, I try to take one photo of it, and enjoy the rest of it myself. It’s the most beautiful thing I get to witness in my days.
June 21stis known as National Indigenous People’s Day in Canada. It’s a time for the indigenous people to acknowledge the many achievements, share knowledge of the language, culture and traditions, and to celebrate our resilience.
A lot of us went in not knowing what we were doing and there was no judgement from the experienced competitors, and coaches. Instead we were given huge amounts of encouragement and tips on what would give us the most success in each event. They are what really made this event such a success.
We began by recording the traditional place name, which I learned and will forever refer to the place as, which is “Tr’inalaii.” We then recorded the story of where Tr’inalaii began and the importance it held in her life.
It’s a beautiful feeling when you see your own people succeeding, sharing that light and love with everyone and knowing you aren’t alone in your struggles.
I remembered that I come from people who are storytellers. Artists. Lovers. Foolish friends and mischievous family. We are drenched in the survival and reclamation of generations past, and by our very act of breathing, laughing, loving - we are claiming our rightful space for our descendants. We are here.
However, I know me. I like visiting. I like driving in and throwing my stuff around and making mad plans to fill every spare second, then moving on. I can only survive so long with a million other people. I need my land. I need my trees. I need my space.
"On a soul level, though, when I hold these items I am filled with gratitude for the woman who made them, because to some degree I owe my existence to her basketry expertise and her ability to sell the baskets in this newly imposed system of capitalism."
Not too much has changed in how we celebrate Christmas nowadays. Our families have grown. Between snags and sweeties, life long partners and broken hearts, we have built up our family enough that Mom's house is now much like Grandma Boyer's house was back in the day - full of laughter and food, cousins and stories.