Echoes of distant times. They live in words, in images around us. But they also still live on as humans, of flesh and blood. They are the Cinderella’s of our world. It’s time we see them and put on their golden shoes. How do we get that done?
There I am, with my Riding Story House, in the middle of the misty meadows. Slowly the sun breaks through. I look out the window and am amazed. I just found out something. It is a magical word from a distant past. It was such a word that suddenly pops up in my mind. It fits right into the big story. The inspiration angels are up there on their cloud and are good at timing. I suspect their presence, although I never see them. I keep my arms free and empty to receive. I often turn off other stations to listen.
Not everyone can do that. That’s because of the fever. The fever is everywhere. Horrible. Not participating in the fever, that is my greatest good.
Fever, inability to stop. Just like King Midas with his desire for gold, or Piggelmee’s wife who became more and more demanding and then lost everything. The greedy daughter who wanted gold. She went to Lady Holle, encouraged by her mother. She pushed her way roughly and ruthless. She came to the mythical woman’s house and harvested tar and toads as a reward. The fairytale world is full of such stories. It has to go further and bigger, it has to be even more and it is never enough. The result of all this folly is revealed over and over again.
I hear a lot of people think out loud that that’s just part of humanity. It is repeated in countless articles. Just like overpopulation. We are like yeast cells, says Jelle Reumer. We multiply without limits. Yes it is. But then he continues: We are ruining our own environment. And if we keep doing that, we’ll all die eventually. Just like yeast cells in a bottle of wine. He wrote, “The exploded monkey”. I listen to him on a podcast of the VPRO. He’s doing something that bothered me for a while. He keeps talking about ‘we’. “We”, as humanity. Perplexed, I listen to his words. I just can’t get used to it.
Because we are not alone. There is still the Other Man. Since I was sixteen I have been moved by men and women who have lived in an environment that has never changed for thousands of years. Three hundred million people, that’s the number of indigenous people on earth. People who still live in a different culture from ours. One hundred and fifty million of them are still living in tribal groups, on old soil. The Maasai, the Pigmees, the Guarani … There are countless minority cultures that have a sacred respect for their living environment.
But their existence is all too often dismissed as a myth. Their words disappear into nothingness. Their country is getting smaller and smaller. The country is going up in fever. Raw materials are transported all over the world. Trees disappear in smoke. Just as feverishly, the one who is causing this, searches for solutions to the enormous problem he is creating. He walks in a circle. He keeps going because he has to keep going. Curiously, the feverish man thinks he is the only one of his kind. But there is still the Other. The Other Man.
Who is that, the Other? The Other is a coincidental and incomplete being that has no power whatsoever. In fact, the fevered man thinks about the Other in the same way as Thomas Aquinas did in the Middle Ages about women. Still, after all these centuries.
Raised in our own modern bubble and infected with fever, he does not see the Other. Still not. Even though he is right in front of him. Then he says: It is only one. This is an exception. A ghost. It doesn’t actually exist, it is a myth. A romantic story from a long past. Out of date.
But they are still there. They are awfully real, the indigenous people. And the need is great. They have an urgent message. It is becoming increasingly urgent. There is despair and anger. How long will it be before we see them? Their story is not a romantic fairytale, it is long and poignant, full of violence, denials and misunderstandings.
’The poor people, who are so close to their landscape because they depend entirely on it - it could be that they have a better command of the principles of sustainable living than those who are rich, have Western education, and the decisions at the UN. ” (Ole-Morindad and Terrence Mc Gabe in the Correspondent)
Wuarani, Amazon: “It took us thousands of years to get to know the Amazon rainforest. To understand her ways, to understand her secrets, to learn how to survive and thrive with her. This forest has taught us to walk lightly. Because we listened to her, taught and defended her, she gave us everything: water, clean air, food, shelter, medicine, happiness, meaning. And for my people, the Waorani, we have only known you 70 years. We were “contacted” by American evangelical missionaries in the 1950s.
I never had the chance to go to college and become a doctor, or a lawyer, a politician, or a scientist. My elders are my teachers. The forest is my teacher. And I have learned enough. I speak shoulder to shoulder with my native siblings around the world to know that you are lost and that you are in trouble. Although you don’t quite understand it yet. Your problem is a threat to every form of life on Earth.
(Nemonte Nenquino, leader of the Waorani, Amazon region, in The Guardian)
Scientific Research on Indigenous Peoples (Scientas): For the future of our biodiversity, collaboration with indigenous tribes will be crucial. The total numbers of birds, mammals, amphibians and reptiles were highest in areas managed by indigenous groups. The size and location of the areas did not appear to influence the species richness. “From frogs and songbirds to large mammals such as grizzly bears, jaguars and kangaroos, biodiversity was richest in indigenously managed areas,” concluded co-author Ryan Germain. Research leader Richard Schuster adds, “This suggests that the way indigenous groups manage the land is keeping biodiversity high.” (Scientas, Vivian Lammerse)
Maasai in Tanzania have been traveling with their cows for 1500 years: Ole-Morindat explains that their cows lose weight in the dry season. Sometimes they lose half their weight in the rainy season. The grasses dry up, the water pulls out. The cows then drink and eat very little and then give hardly any milk. People also lose weight.
That is part of Enkutu, says Ole-Morindat. Enkutu refers to a philosophy of great spiritual significance, which insists on personal responsibility and helpfulness. It stands for respecting the nature upon which all life depends, wherever and whenever.
”Enkutu,” says Ole-Morindat, “let us look to the future with hope, courage and enthusiasm. In the dry season, we are all willing to go hungry and help each other so that our cows live and our environment is not destroyed. We are assured of our environment. Where I live, everything looks exactly as it did in 1940. Minus the roads and electricity poles. “
Hunger is not something to be romantic about. But according to Ole-Morindat, Masai are aware that this is necessary for the long-term conservation of nature and their way of life. “Our way of life is not just an economic consideration,” he says. “Pastoralism is deeply rooted in our social and spiritual life. It determines our fullness, where we feel at home, and how we change. (Ole-Morindad in de Corespondent)
Here people speak with wisdom and pain. We can learn from them. Why are they not being heard?
It’s the fever. Which leads to glowing greed. To hot-tempered strife and wars, to ardent ambitions. To technological castles in the air that continue to rise from the face of the earth. The bottom, the bottom! The growth economy is glowing with fever. That’s what she’s all about. She continues feverishly. Like mad. Where are the feet in the earth?
Maybe it takes magic to get rid of that twisted world.
Today I was amazed to see that there is a very old magic word. A word to heal. A magic word that we all know, without realizing its ancient magic. They are echoes from the primeval times of our civilization. It was already on the lips of distant ancestors before our era. Ancestors, who watch our time in horror. It comes from the Hebrew, and it also comes from Greek. Believe in it or not. This is the word, and this is what it means:
A B R A C A D A B R A
A B R A C A D A B R
A B R A C A D A B
A B R A C A D A
A B R A C A D
A B R A C A
A B R A C
A B R A
A B R
R E D U C E Y O U R F E V E R
(Equilateral triangle, design according to the Gnostics)