The Lakota-Scottish connection

All the pain that you have known.. oh
all the violence in you soul.. oh
all the the wrong things you have done.. oh
I will take from you when I come.....


It was the first time I made that journey to Lakota... 1500 miles by road. For someone who was raised in the British Isles (small land mass!), the distances blew me away. We set off in convoy, 4 vehicles (or was it 5?), the drive orchestrated by the Lakota who had come for us. We set off after we filled each vehicle with gas and after a pinch of sacred tobacco had been put on each tire of each vehicle. It was surreal.. and comforting. It was dusk.

We drove to friends in Sacramento and there we stayed while we loaded up with final essentials for Pine Ridge under canvas. Then we pointed the whole convoy toward South Dakota and, to all intents and purposes, we never stopped again until we pulled into what would be our first year's building camp at Wounded Knee. We drove and drove and drove and drove (.................can you feel it?!). It was utterly immense, single-mindedly focused as this Lakota was, to arrive on-site in time for summer solstice & Lodge.

An old van had been donated for the Lakota and this was part of the convoy. At some point out along the endless highway, I took the wheel and drove the van without passengers...; drove and drove and drove.... drove into some altered state to the point where Sinead's 'This is To Mother You' song fairly erupted in me. I sang it and sang it with tears streaming sang my voice into husky, sang and sang and drove.

All mistakes made in distress
All your unhappiness
I will take away with my kiss, yes
I will give you tenderness
For child I am so glad I've found you
Although my arms have always been around you
Sweet bird although you did not see me
I saw you
And I'm here to mother you...

I can say unequivocally it was the song that drove that van through miles and literally hours, driving with a strength fueled by extraordinary Presence. It was the first time I 'saw' White Buffalo Calf Woman'. It was the download that had to happen before I ever set foot in Wounded Knee.

How astonished I was to find wild Harebells there, there in the desolation of Wounded Knee. Harebells quivering in the breeze, or flattened in the sometimes daily(same as Scotland!)gale-force winds. Delicate Harebell; most beloved flower of my own mother and only ever grew wild to my knowledge in our Scottish soil....  If men of Scots/Irish lineage were here, the story would be full of shadows and sharp things, that much I knew... but Harebells caught me completely by surprise and took my breath away, in a wondrous way, just as they always do.

Much to tell you of the stunning inter-weavings of Scots-Lakota.. but here to remember this song came in like a transmission on that first sojourn.

For I'm to Mother You
To comfort you and get you through
through when your nights are lonely
through when your dreams are only blue

This is to be with you
to hold you and to kiss you too
for when you need me I will do
what your own mother didn't do
which is to Mother you