The Medicine Man Who Never Had a Vision
Decades ago Brad conducted a session with an Anishinaabe[1] man named Nate[2] who came to him for help. Nate was an ex-convict who had previously served hard time at Sing Sing, the maximum security prison in Ossining, New York. He was burly and muscular, with scars on his neck and face. He also had a long braid of hair that went all the way down to the bottom of his back. Nate was called a medicine helper by his tribe and was a leader among his people. He never claimed to own the role of medicine man. Instead, he preferred helping other medicine people conduct their ceremonies.
Nate came to Brad’s home and without wasting any words confessed: “I am ashamed to tell you why I have come because I would not want my people to know. I have never had a vision…I have never personally had a vision. I don’t know why. I have talked to several elders. They have put me out on the hill to fast and pray. I have done all these things and have done them sincerely, but I have never had a vision. I want you to help me have a vision. People come to me for help and insist that I give them medicine. I do my best, but I need a vision to fulfill what my people, including our spiritual elders, want from me.”
“Nate,” Brad replied, “let’s go downstairs and pray in a traditional way.” This was a natural thing to do because of Brad’s previous invited participation in Nate’s culture. In the setting of a totally dark room, with traditional heartfelt drumming and singing, prayers were expressed that were full of emotion. They singularly aimed to make contact with the Creator, not knowing what to expect. Nate’s concern was sincerely handed over to the numinous source and force of vast mystery. This was done in the dark with no discussion, only singing, drumming, and praying.
One Vision, Then Another
On this ceremonial meeting ground, Brad had a vision:
I saw Nate go into the woods and gather 12 branches, each no longer than a foot in length. One branch was cut from a tree facing south, another from one facing north, and the others from points in between. I told him he should consider doing what I saw in my mind’s eye. “Mark each of these branches carefully so you can tell which direction it came from. As you know, you should pray to be led to each branch and ask permission for their assistance. Then take the branches home and place them underneath your bed in a circle with a traditional tobacco offering. Each branch should face its original direction, with the south facing south, and so on.”
Without any further discussion, Nate understood, thanked Brad, and went home. He gathered his branches and prepared to sleep over them. Within a week, Brad received a call from Nate.
“Man, I’m just blown away. I don’t know what you did or what it was about, but I went out and did what you said. I found the branches and put them under the bed like you told me. And then I went to sleep. I had this dream. But when I woke up, I was still in the dream. I was flying out of my body and flew back to a time when I was a little boy, and I looked at my dad and my family and then I realized that I was flying and was wide awake and it freaked me out. Then I woke up.”
“Well I guess you had yourself a vision,” Brad said.
“Brad, man, that was too much. I’m not sure I want to put those branches under my bed again.” Brad teased him that maybe he put too much tobacco out as an offering. They both laughed.
“I think I know what I must do now,” Nate declared. Brad remained silent with no need to ask what that might be. They said goodbye to one another on the phone. A few months later, Brad found out that Nate found a way to work out some issues with his family of origin. That learning helped him become a spiritual helper to adolescents in trouble with addictions.
In the session Brad and Nate had together, there was only a simple statement of what Nate wanted, followed by prayer that journeyed on an old healing trail as the Creator led the way. This is what brought visionary guidance that helped fertilize, seed, and germinate both of their visions. However, there is more to the story because both Brad’s and Nate’s visions seemed to ignite another vision from someone who didn’t even attend the session.
And Yet Another Vision
Nate’s wife, Betty, and his friends, Ken and his wife, Joan, months later came back with Nate to see Brad. His friend said something Brad will never forget. He began by reporting that Nate told him about the branches.
“After I heard about Nate putting the sticks under the bed,” Ken went on to say, “I had the weirdest experience of my life. I don’t know how to make sense of it. I had a dream where I was sitting in the lodge of a traditional ceremony. There were medicine people and a big fire and animal hides covering the wigwam that was made of branches. I saw my grandfather. He came over to me carrying red paint in a seashell. He took his right finger and dipped it into the paint, and he drew a stripe right down my forehead. It freaked me out because when I turned around, I saw that all the men in there had animal heads. I don’t know if they were masks, but they looked like real animals.”
Ken paused and took a deep breath. He looked at his wife, and Joan nodded, urging him to continue with his story.
“I woke up real startled. I was sweating and screaming, and I woke up my wife. She jumped out of bed and turned on the light. Then she screamed. What my wife saw was a red stripe on my forehead.”
This man was the director of a mental health agency and he was not prone to make up a story like this. The experience had shocked him and his wife. Brad found out that Ken had been struggling with whether to go back to his traditional ways and join a medicine lodge, but his Catholic upbringing and social work training filled him with doubt. Now he felt the presence of a mystery that could neither be explained nor denied. Ken had not sought help from Brad but the spiritual prescription for another person somehow resulted in a mystical experience in his own life. Spirit can move from person to person in this way—mystery can spread like wildfire.
Twenty years later, Nate passed away. His obituary in the newspaper celebrated his spiritual life:
“Nate was an extreme man and he went on to seek as much information as he could about his Culture and Traditions. He used and shared this knowledge of the Great Mystery through various ceremonies, prayers and teachings to support and to ensure a better and healthier way of life for others. Without question, he was one of the most Spiritual men we have been blessed to know. Nate worked for over 20 years in the addictions field. He was instrumental in creating and managing the clinical direction of four treatment facilities across [the country].”
Ken announced his retirement that same year and was celebrated for his many years of directing a program that revolted against the government’s child welfare laws that had removed 50% of native families from their homes. He was called the “grandfather of the agency” he had directed for 25 years. Spiritual vision directed their agency’s work, as is indicated in a published account of its historical development: “The Loon provided various instructions on how the organization must operate and perform.”
May the spirit, in any of its forms—conveyed by drum and song—guide and oversee your vision, seen or unseen, but always felt deep inside your heart. If you meet Ken or his grandfather in a dream, realize that red paint may be nearby. His friend will be there too, a man who learned to fly.
-The Keeneys, March 22, 2019
[1] Anishinaabe refers to a group of culturally related indigenous peoples in areas of what are now Canada and the United States, including the Odawa, Saulteaux, Ojibwe, Potawatomi, Oji-Cree, and Algonquin peoples.
[2] Names have been changed.