My Indigenous Life

In a quiet moment of reflection, a vision came to me – one that brought both clarity and a heavy ache to my heart. I saw myself standing face to face with someone who once meant everything to me. There was a deep understanding in that silence: everything between us had shifted. The love, the trust, the dreams we once shared had faded, replaced by the pain of betrayal and the emptiness of being left behind.

Between us, a veil began to fall – crystal clear, yet impossible to cross. I could see him, still so familiar, but I couldn’t reach him. My body felt weightless, gliding backward, slowly and steadily moving away. The distance grew, and I realized that this was the true end. I was letting go, even as a part of me wanted to hold on.

As I drifted further, his presence grew smaller, shrinking until he was just a lonely figure on the other side of the veil. On the ground beside me, I noticed a bentwood box – an object of comfort and tradition. I knew, instinctively, that I needed to gather every last feeling I still carried – the love, the hope, the disappointment, the anger – and place them all into the box. With trembling hands, I let each emotion flow out of my heart, my mind, and my spirit, pouring them into the box until I felt empty, yet lighter.

In that moment of release, I felt the gentle touch of my ancestors – a hand on my shoulder, arms around my waist – offering strength and comfort. Someone quietly placed the lid on the box, sealing away all that pain and longing. The veil between us began to change, growing darker and denser, turning into branches, old man’s beard, and then a thick, impenetrable forest. He vanished from sight, swallowed by the shadows and the wild.

When I looked again, the box was gone. The touch of my ancestors faded, and I was alone. But in that solitude, I found a quiet peace. I realized I could move forward. I was on my own, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of happiness. I was free to begin again.

Visions have always been a guiding force in my life, offering clarity and comfort when I need it most. I believe they are more than dreams – they are messages from within, shaped by my experiences, my ancestors, and the land that holds me. This vision reminded me that letting go is not a sign of weakness, but a powerful act of self-love and trust in the journey ahead. As I move forward, I carry the wisdom of my ancestors and the hope that new beginnings are possible, even after the deepest sorrow. I trust in my visions, and I trust in myself.

If this story resonates with you, I invite you to share your own journey of letting go or finding healing in the comments. Our stories are powerful, and together, we create a space for understanding and support.
Thank you for reading and holding this space with me. If you’d like to follow more of my journey, feel free to connect, share, or reach out through my website or Facebook page.

May your own visions and ancestors guide you gently forward.