Sabe and Migizi

There is a door.

If you live with depression, you know the door.

You know the hallway.

You know the weight of wondering if it will open again.

Sometimes the hardest part isn’t being behind the door.

It’s walking past it — remembering.

But today, the door was so small I could barely see it.

Today I stood beside an eagle.

I stood beside my friend, my eagle sister

I stood in ceremony, newly a pipe carrier.

I stood before children and told them:

Stand firm in who you are.

Be honest about who you are.

Do not collapse to make others comfortable.

Respect differences without erasing yourself.

I didn’t realize I was teaching Sabe.

I didn’t realize those were my clan’s teachings moving through me.

Sabe stands upright.

Sabe does not shrink.

Sabe does not dominate.

Sabe stands.

And when I look at the picture now, I remember how my body felt:

Warm.

Heart beating in my ears.

Chest like a drum.

Steady.

Upright.

Calm.

Not frantic.

Not manic.

Not bracing.

Sovereign.

As I reflect on my day, and I cry tears that are not of sadness tonight, I can hear the Migizi honor song I sang to the kids.

Strength beneath my feet.

Vision above my head.

Sabe and Migizi.

The door still exists somewhere in the woods.

But I am no longer living in its hallway.

I am walking in a good way.

And I am calm.

I pray the same for you.

Sending Good Vibes,

Naazh