The next two days have been emotional. I can barely write. The written history is soul disturbing. I meet living people along the way at our camps. Camp hosts. Good people. Ignorant people. People who still believe that christianizing and civilizing the Cherokee was a gift.
I travel on. I gather stones. I make more stone altars. I make my prayers before them. To honor what has been lost. To honor what has been preserved.
Grateful for my tribe. I honor what has been preserved. May this journey deepen all things sacred in me. Like the streams coming from the mountains, May it be never ending in me. May that well spring be my inner life. Strong body. Lucid mind. Clean spirit. May it be so for me. May it be so for you. May it be so for all. Sister MorningStar