The Abenaki people of the White Mountains describe their traditional territory, which extends across much of Vermont, New Hampshire, and parts of Quebec, Maine, and Massachusetts, as Ndakinna (or N’dakinna), which translates to “Our Homeland.” They have a long and proud history.
They are soulful people whose legacy provides an opportunity for new perspectives that can form a powerful basis for re-evaluating one’s life. Two of these pertain to our world and our words.
They have an intriguing perspective on life related to the world we are conscious of and the words we speak to communicate with each other.
World: The Abenaki believe our world is a dream, created by the dreams of the Great Spirit, which led to the creation of the world and all its creatures. Our existence is not as physically stable or formed by concrete aspects only, or even primarily, as we are conditioned to believe and experience. Rather, it stems from and occupies a spirit realm.
Words: Words have unique and complete souls like those inhabiting a human body. They possess a vitality that mirrors the inner life of our world, and this connection is the source of their power. Therefore, we must utter them with intentionality to ensure a vibrant community.
Words have the power to lift or crush us.
We must be reflective in the words we choose — before we utter them — when we engage others. This is particularly important in the impersonal space between humans created by communication technologies. With fingers on a screen or while tapping keyboards, we are prone to de-humanize our discourses.
As the eyes are the windows to our soul, words are its voice.
In the New Testament; John 1:1 states: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God”.
Here within another culture and tradition, the same sacred attributes are assigned — Words are eternal, divine, transformational — The Creator is Word.
It seems that for my every encounter in nature, whether negotiating a ledge beneath the summit of a mountain, or trekking on an endless stretch of wild beach, I undergo a catharsis.
I inhale redemptive air; I exhale tension-filled breath. Some of that tension is related to the news cycle. If I write as I do here, it is because I conscientiously read, watch, and listen.
The sequence of conflicted and polarized political discourse in this nation is fueled mostly by words, not action. Words, so powerful, have become the preferred instrument of consternation.
In turn, if life is dream-like, I am thankful nature encounters continually re-orient me towards better visions. In other words a better world. A significant portion of my consciousness is created by the words I speak and write. Harsh words directed to me or suspended in air by people in conflict compete with my quest for peacefulness and order.
Our progenitors were right: “Think about what you’ll say before you say it;” “Treat others like you want to be treated;” “Keep your feet on the ground;” — to make a better life for yourself.
Understated solutions. These are a treasure-trove of lessons to be re-examined and applied to liberate us from a ruptured existence.
I’ll add that if two people are in conflict, only one of them is needed to “take the high road.” Once this occurs, the redirection toward civility is usually instantaneous. Both achieve a better view from what was a moment ago disorder.
Words and worlds redirected to achieve an otherwise elusive balance.
Hmm. This could be the year when my New Year resolutions made earnestly in January, actually will still be in place well beyond March.
At least I have to really try this time around.
Joe D’Amore leads contemplative hikes in the White Mountains and on Cape Cod for the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC). He writes “ The Outward View” for North Of Boston Media Group and can be reached at damorecos@gmail.com