Gratitude Has a Stillness

A lesson from Pine Ridge

Three winters ago, I had the honor of meeting an elder musician* from the Oglala Lakota Nation. Mervin Young Bear invited our world folk band to play music at a Pine Ridge gathering, and he spent an immense amount of time and energy connecting us to this experience. For the month prior to our visit, he shared traditional stories and songs with us, communicated his intentions for our visit, answered our questions, and prepared us with the history of the ceremony we would attend.

When we arrived, amidst a myriad of preparations for the ceremony (music, food, warmth, lodging, and horse transport for the riders), he paused to be present with us. Melvin ate a meal with us, gave us a tour to share the sacredness of the land, introduced us to friends, and showed us his childhood home. All of these gestures carried a profound sense of appreciation – a deliberate and welcoming warmth. With this entry to Pine Ridge, I had a heightened awareness of our own actions and presence. I had a new lens for how things can be done.

On our second morning at Pine Ridge, my bandmates and I awoke to a beautiful sunrise. The pinks and crimsons called a few of us outside, and I sat down to breathe in a new light.  I noticed that my two companions paused in awe, but quickly scurried back inside.

Moments later, they independently returned with their phones and tripods. After carefully balancing and arranging their time-lapse captures, they disappeared again. I soon realized that I was watching a sunrise with two new companions… a pair of 3-legged cell phones. With a wry smile and a small giggle, I had learned something timeless - it takes attention to care about what is in front of us.

 Gratitude has a stillness.

 ~A gentle reminder, with thanks to Young Bear and the Oglala Lakota Nation.

 *The Porcupine Singers formed around the 1900s and have remained a band without interruption. The leaders today are the descendants of the original members.