The late Charles Alexander Eastman, or Ohiyesa by his Sioux name, wrote something about Native American religious beliefs in The Soul of an Indian which I think hits the nail on the head:
Naturally magnanimous and open-minded, we have always preferred to believe that the Spirit of God is not breathed into humans alone, but that the whole created universe shares in the immortal perfection of its Maker.
The elements and majestic forces in nature--lightning, wind, water, fire, and frost-- are regarded with awe as spiritual powers, but always secondary and intermediate in character. We believe that spirit pervades all creation and that every creature possesses a soul in some degree, though not necessarily a soul conscious of itself.
My oldest daughter, Emma and Sunny. . . Soul Sisters.Concerning this very statement, I wrote in my book: Heaven on Earth: Stories of Fly-Fishing, Fun & Faith (soon to be published):
As for recognizing the spirit in animals, all one need do is experience a day afield with a good birddog, when the spirits definitely connect, or catch and release a beautiful trout.
For me, hunting and fishing are not only enjoyable pasttimes, but, to some extent, are also spiritual endeavors. Am I the only one who feels this way? Maybe not.
Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me . . . fishing!!!
Today, as I was reading Empty Collars: A Tribute to the Memory of our Gun Dogs, I reread George Bird Evan's, "The Last Indian Summer," in which he shares his sentiments regarding his last hunting season with Briar, an Old Hemlock Setter:
Nothing is more desolate, more sadly happy than to give a dog his final season before losing him. Those last seven months were an exercise in courage, with Briar leading Kay and me all the way. He had been gallant throughout his whole ordeal, making it possible for us to endure what seemed unendurable until we had gone through it, an Indian summer that lasted so long but went so fast.
Those who say a dog has no soul are defining soul differently that I do. Briar's soul is with me among the hemlocks needle-sharp against flaming sunsets, and will be for as long as I am here. For those of you who have lost a dog, you have my word that this is so.
Nothing is more desolate, more sadly happy than to give a dog his final season before losing him. Those last seven months were an exercise in courage, with Briar leading Kay and me all the way. He had been gallant throughout his whole ordeal, making it possible for us to endure what seemed unendurable until we had gone through it, an Indian summer that lasted so long but went so fast.
Those who say a dog has no soul are defining soul differently that I do. Briar's soul is with me among the hemlocks needle-sharp against flaming sunsets, and will be for as long as I am here. For those of you who have lost a dog, you have my word that this is so.
Having lost a few birddogs myself, I know exactly what he means. Glad to have a few more seasons with Sunny.
To sum it up, there is so much more underlying hunting and fishing than simply the pursuit and taking of game. As Ohiyesa described it, all creation shares, in some degree, in the glory of its Maker. All animals, including birddogs, have souls!
And there you have it readers . . . my two cents worth.
To sum it up, there is so much more underlying hunting and fishing than simply the pursuit and taking of game. As Ohiyesa described it, all creation shares, in some degree, in the glory of its Maker. All animals, including birddogs, have souls!
And there you have it readers . . . my two cents worth.
Filet-o-Soul.
