11/27/2025
Today, in remembranceā
Of the original stewards of this stolen land, these so-called āUnited Statesā of America,
I chose to pause.
To drive to the mountain top.
To sit in stillness.
To reflect on all that has passedā¦
And to make space for all that is yet to come.
I drove to the mountain to remember the slaughter.
The stripping of culture, of language, of children.
I thought of betrayal. Of history rewrittenāmanipulatedāto erase truth and fracture lineage.
I drove to the mountain to witness beauty.
To feel the strength, power, and ancient wisdom that rises with the sun and whispers through the trees.
I thought of the indigenous tribes who walked these lands for generationsātending to earth and spirit, honoring both beast and man in sacred rhythm.
I drove to the mountain to honor the old ways.
To offer thanks for the deep earth knowledge still pulsing in this soil.
To honor every man, woman, and child who carries that bloodline forward.
For those who survived the Trail of Tears.
For those simply living, beingāwho were taken too soon.
I passed through memory, and I remembered them.
I drove to the mountain to smile.
To feel joy.
To feel the earth rise up to meet my stance.
And I smiled becauseādespite it allāwe are still here.
They tried to erase us. Erase truth. Erase memory.
But they didnāt knowā¦
They were planting seeds.
I drove to the mountain and smiled.
Smiled in remembrance.
Smiled in knowing:
I amāwe areāthose seeds.
And as long as breath lives in our bodies,
We will not forget.
They will not be forgotten.
Their wisdom, their power, their sacred ways of living and moving on this landā
Still teach us.
Still guide us.
We are the dreams of our ancestors.
We are the seeds, rooted deep.
So take root.
Stand tall.
Walk firm.
āMiche āš½š
