A Visitor’s View–Reflection from Chris Lemying’s Mom

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Things to Remember from Teaching Drum Visit Falling Leaves Moon

– written by Tammy Day, mother of Chris Lemying, known at camp as Lemying.

-Walking through a cranberry bog
-Chris surprising me by walking behind me for a while on the trail before I realized he was there
-Chris with beard and beautiful smile, his welcome hug
-the autumn beauty of Wisconsin woods
-the lakes
-the Wigwams, as we came to a clearing there were 4 wigwams, small hearths (campfires), and children and
adults milling around. I felt like I was on a movie set….in another time period.
-the warmth of the other Seekers/clan members
-how dirty their clothes, hands and faces were
-How their eyes shown
-how tangled and unkempt their hair was, especially the children
-The children- So free, so independent to play and explore the woods from sun up to bedtime. There is a group of about 5-6 boys between the ages of six to ten. The spirits are unlike that of any children I’ve ever known. They have energy to be engaged, curious, creative, playful, and quite often helpful members of the clan all day. How different from most American children.

I have no memory of these boys ever seeking their parents (mostly mothers) attention. They would sometimes say, “Mom, have your seen my gloves, tomahawk, jacket.” But never, “I’m bored” or “Can you do something with me?”

I saw a group of adults that were available to easily offer a child a helping hand, a bit of conversation and acknowledgment. When work groups went out to dig out the new lean-to, any child that came along was allowed to work alongside the adults. Sunday a.m. the whole clan walked to the trailhead for the bi-weekly food drop. ALL of the children, even the 3 yr olds, joyously participated in carrying the food back to camp. No
complaints, no whining, no directions were given by the adults! It was amazing to watch beautiful, 3 yr old Julia and her parents. Julia was given the freedom to roam around
the hearth (3 first pit) areas. She would speak in very clear English—she is Swedish and also speaks Swedish.
Many people in camp are whittling different projects—adult and children. Saturday evening, Julia was also holding a knife and stick and was trying to whittle. The only direction from her father was, you must be still and not walk around with the knife. Early Sunday morning she was holding a dead mouse and petting it like a pet. She had the ability to roam around, interact with children and adults alike. At 3 years she had the self-direction
and confidence of a child 2 times her age. She was a delight to watch.

-There was a feast Thursday evening to celebrate the completion of digging up a peat bog. The peat will be used to insulate the winter lodges. As a guest I was asked to be the first served.  The menu was Basswood tree leaves and raspberry leaves,
kombocha squash, mixed cooked kale, broccoli, cabbage, and cauliflower, wild rice they had harvested weeks earlier, and Cisco fish. I chose the tail end half of the fish. (Chris choose the head and offered me one of his fish eyes…I declined.) Bear fat was drizzled over the whole bowl. Since I was new it was advised I only take 1 scoop of bear fat to start off with. Most adults were having between 4-7 scoops of bear fat each evening
meal…and wishing for more. They say the bear fat helps them keep warm and gives them energy. I did not really like the taste of the bear fat….an acquired taste I think. I was surprised by the amount of food everyone ate during the evening meals—then I learned how important this meal is.

-Before we started eating the entire clan -42 counting me and 3 support staff that were there for the feast, sat in a large oval, cross-legged, held hands and offered an Ojibwa prayer.
-Then guests, elders, mothers, men, children, and lastly the Guardians got to be served in that order. Chris and 6 other young adults are Guardians (also known as scouts).
-We all ate everything. The clan members even ate the fish spines after roasting them on stones in the fire.
-There is no drinking during the meals. It is believed this helps with digestion.
-Clan members drink directly with their mouths from the lake. I bought a filtered straw to drink the clear, crisp water from the lake.
-After everyone had their 1st serving of food, the members of the clan started telling everyone about their day (or sun). One by one, kids included, everyone listened respectfully as they stated what they had done that day and how they felt. If they needed support they asked for it. They could also make announcements. Ex: I had
a really good day. I woke early at first light, after my morning meal I worked on helping to dig out the new lean-to, I am feeling good about how people are coming together to work on the building projects. I have lost my knife, please be on the look-out for me. Aho (an Ojibwa word that means-“I have spoken”). The whole clan then replies, “Aho” which now means “I have heard” And it is the next person’s time to share.

-Everyone has their own bowl and spoon or chop sticks. People are encouraged to carve their own bowls. They get every speck of food and bear fat out of the bowls. After the meals the bowls are stored in tree boughs or on the top of the wood arbor—nothing was washed.

-There is a type of conifer tree here that is very important to the clan for its antiseptic properties. I do not remember the name of the tree. Pine needles are rubbed on hands after eliminating, boughs are used for bedding in wigwams for warmth, the boughs are also placed around the hearth for cleanliness and comfort, the trunks of
these trees have sap/pitch sacks in them that easily pop and the liquid runs out like an ointment to be applied to cuts and sores.

-When Chris greeted me he had a large amount of these tree boughs attached to a rope around his shoulder.These had been lovingly gathered to add to my bedding in the wigwam. This was very attentive and indicative of how he would tend to my every need during my whole visit.

-The Guardians camp is about a half mile away from the main camp. We walked out there after dinner with Clair. She is a sweet, quiet woman that shares a wigwam with Chris and Rob. Rob slept somewhere else during my stay giving me his spot. Being inside the wigwam was so cozy and comforting. One feels as if they are being held by Mother Earth.

-It turned cold the day I arrived to TD and sleeping warmly was difficult, even with the extra pine tree boughs Chris collected for me. I was uncomfortable and cold. The following sun (day) we put my ground cloth from my tent under my sleeping bag, more pine boughs, and a warm wool cape from Chris. I was warm the following 2 nights.
-We rose before sunrise, near first light, bundled up (First Chris went outside the wigwam and did 16 burpee exercises. He and another guardian are trying to add one a day to reach 100 burpee’s each morning). Chris showed me where his di’yai area (where to take a dump in the woods). Like Chris has written to us, the Ojibwa people think of this as a time to “give back” to the Mother. We walked a good distance down a path in the
woods, Chris showed me a couple landmarks, waved his arm and said, “This area here is mine. Mark you poop with a stick pointing straight up!”
-walking along this trail that morning I came within 4 feet of a porcupine on the trail. I wondered if I was about to be shot with quills. The porcupine looked at me and slowly moved off the trail.
-every morning there is a brief meeting around the hearth before breakfast. All of the adults would go around and state what they hoped to accomplish that day. If they wanted help they could ask for support. One couple would ask for someone to take their 3 yr old for a couple hours in the afternoon to let the parents do other things
at camp.
-after the morning meeting Chris and 3 other Guardians steal away into the forest for some hard physical training. They have decided amongst themselves that they want to do this training to get stronger. Chris has built an outdoor area for pull-ups, dips, and other exercises. They each did over 200 push-ups, then many other exercises.
-This first morning Chris and I took a small canoe down a canoe canal to the lake to get water. This canal was so cool. The black dirt walls were about 3
feet, there were poles about every 3 feet sticking up on both sides so one can reach and pull themselves and the canoe out to the water. One of the times I felt like I had stepped back in time. The wind was howling and cold, the water was choppy so we quickly got out water and went back to shore. This was one of my favorite parts of
my visit. Chris was so confident and capable.

…more soon!

 

Post from Sarah

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Last spring I started on an 11 month wilderness immersion
program in northern Wisconsin near the Nicolet National Forest.
I embarked on this adventure with my two children, ages 5 and
12, but without their father—my life partner Chuck. My older son
returned home after 2 months and I thought I would also return
then, but have been learning so much, I have stayed on. After 5
months in the woods away from computers, cars, time pressures
and all the other conveniences and demands of modern life, I am
finally ready to try and make a dead-line and write an update
about my time.

First I want to say: Riverwest, I miss you!!
Being away has helped me see even more clearly what a wonderful,
beautiful and vibrant neighborhood we have!

So what am I learning?

I helped build a wigwam I now live in! And I am now part
of a team building a lean-to: all with knives and tomahawks as
our only tools. It is true beyond a shadow of a doubt that we
can live without our modern conveniences and be comfortable,
healthy, and happy.

I have also learned:
• to see each moment as an opportunity,
• to go slow and to act with care,
• to make sure I am listening.
• that natural living (sitting without chairs, walking,
canoeing…) is the best physical fitness program there
is. I have not been so fit or flexible since I was a 24
year old dancer. 🙂
As an urban gardener and practitioner of permaculture, I
am excited to be growing a deeper relationship with the trees,
plants, and natural systems.
My list of lessons could go on, but today I feel an even
deeper lesson. Many nights we have story telling around a fire
or in a lodge around a candle. Last night a story was shared by
one of the more experienced participants in the program. It was
about his first time “hiking” at night. The story was about
fear; fumbling through the woods carrying a canoe that banged
into trees making an enormous racket, getting lost, a heart
racing with fear because he was imagining that a huge man
carrying an ax was chasing him; scaring an animal that screamed
like fighting cats, falling down hills, more fear, owls
screeching from above, a bear running by breaking down trees,
exhaustion, and in the end a task that was not completed. As the
story closed many of us were rolling with laughter. Then one of
the children asked how big the man with the ax was and if he was
real. Chris, the story teller, said yes, he was real: real in his mind.
Once a month we walk into our support center to use the
phones and computer. This morning was one of those mornings so I
woke up before the first light was showing in the sky and walked
with four other participants (including a 6 and a 9 year old)
through the dark woods and miles down a dark road. We started by
holding hands and laughing as we went down a path we could only
feel but not see in the cloudy night with no moon. We talked
about how we felt like we were part of a ten-legged organism. If
the head of our chain went off the path the back of our chain
was still on it and could feel the path underfoot. In this way
the rear could help the leader come back to the path with little
fumbling.

Near our support center we saw our first houses, many
which had lights that appeared to have been on all night and I
thought about the story of the night before. I also thought
about the electrical “energy drip,” a constant slow loss of
electricity that no one is really using but that is flowing
through our energy grid and being wasted—such as all the little
red lights on appliances that are on 24 hours a day all year. I
realized that we as a nation are cutting down whole mountains to
mine coal to power lights that are on simply because many of us
are scared of the dark. I know I have left the lights on when I
was alone and scared.

Just thinking of all the houses in the United States with
lights on because most of us are scared of the dark is mind
boggling. And as I walked I realized the fear goes beyond the
literal fear of the dark to fear of our vulnerability, the
unknown, and fear of death. I thought about how fun the dark
could be when you did not fear it, when you shared it with
others.
Upon my arrival at the support center I learned that a
friend passed away from breast cancer. And as I cried for her,
missing my own family; I realized I could feel my pain and not
be scared of it. I suddenly knew that the pain and fear, the
dark inside me, could be felt and embraced and I would be fine.
Living away from my son and partner for most of a year to
be out in the woods with no running water does sound crazy to me
and yet we are all living in a crazy world. The fact that I have
helped destroy mountains because I have been scared of the dark
is also crazy. The news I read as I arrive here seems crazy.
Today, in honor of Alisa and her family and all in my Riverwest
community whom I have not seen in so long, I recommit myself to
being in the moment, and to releasing fear. I will live as
simply as I can. I will not harm our planet or any of the other
people and creatures I share it with because of fears. I commit
to sharing the dark and to loving unconditionally those around me—knowing that is the way to work with the dark.
Let us all remember the dark is always there. If we let
our fear of the dark overcome us, then we go out of balance, but
if we live in the moment and support one another in the
darkness, then we can handle it.

Blessings.