In  the year 2000 I somehow was drawn to develop a logo and spiritual name that resonated with me.  I came up with the name of WakundaMa and I formed the website  Wakunda means Great Spirit and Ma is Chinese for horse.  I’m was born in the year of the horse in the Chinese Zodiac.  So the Ma was for my Chinese link, but the Wakunda part was from a strong connection I felt to Native American culture.

Then in coming years when ever I found my self overwhelmed or having trouble sleeping I would seek out authentic “unplugged” (no electronics or amplification) Native American music.  First it was the flute.  Then it extended to drumming, then voice and pow wows.  The sound of it made me feel like I was at home.  The more raw, simple, and natural the better.  At times quite literally the sound of a Native American War Dance could put me to sleep with a smile.

Every now and then I kept searching for the nearest Native American Reservation so that I might live there for maybe a little.  But most of my searches returned disappointing results of reservations consisting of improverished Native Americans living in Westernized housing who mostly would not trust to share their old ways with an outsider like me.  Additionally it seemed that the old ways have been mostly lost.

The past couple years I’ve started to sink into my humanity and humility as a simple creature of this Earth.  In that sinking I’ve started to embrace Native American ceremony, by drumming the drum, and creating an indoor “fire pit” using candles, tufts of white sage, and sweet grass.  I noticed a compelling desire to start singing lost songs of the land.  I find my vocal cords almost seemingly to channel earthy sounds of the past in a language I don’t understand.  The sounds from my throat seem like it could be made-up gibberish, but somehow it feels so very authentic that I dare say it’s channeled.  Be it a true traceable Native American language I don’t know if I will ever find out, but it is definitely so authentically grounding and healing for me.

In the Native American ceremony I’m somehow starting to find my own authentic voice of the inner child that can not speak in well enunciated words of the English language but rather the more emotional not trying to be pretty and polished tone of a Native American voice.   In ceremony I can scream, whisper, yell, cry, be loved, show love and wisdom in the voice that comes thru my belly, heart and lungs.

My draw to Native American has increased.  A few weeks ago I found myself searching again on the internet for which Native American reservation I might want to visit to find my home people again.  This time I decided to search for the largest reservations rather than the closes reservations.  And then I discovered that the biggest reservations once existed in Oklahoma.  What follows is what I started to piece together that seemed to explain why a Chinese Man feels such strong longing for his Native American roots.

A long time ago a great many people of lived in a land called the Americas.  I don’t know how many for sure but a search on the internet show anywhere from as tiny as 2.1 million to even larger than 100 million Native Americans lived in what is now the United States.  And then the I guess somewhere starting around the 1500’s a great conflict would occur with people from Europe and over the years about 90% of the Native Americans would perish, many from war but most just from diseases brought over by the Europeans.

In the United States a steady effort proceeded to contain the  Native American Tribes into reservations.  Mostly a large effort involved trying to clear the areas East of the Mississippi of Native American Tribes.  Most Native Americans were forced to relocate to an area of land that is currently known as Oklahoma.  Land area were reserved for the Cherokee, Cheyenne, Arapaho, Wichita, Caddo, Kiowa, Chikasaw, Tonkawa, Ponca, Oto, Missouri, Pawnee, Creek, Iowa, Kichapoo, Pottawatome, Shawnee, Seminole, Osage, and Choctaw.  A large number of Native Americans perished during this relocation to these reserved lands.

And in the middle of all these reserved lands a parsel of land was left “unassigned”.  In the 1880’s these were referred to as the “Unassigned Lands”.  The north east part of the unassigned lands sat in the “heart” between all these tribal lands.  And in this spot resided Still Water Creek because it’s waters were observed to be still and the land would eventually turn into a city called Still Water.  Before the turn of the century a land run was kicked off and people (later called “Sooners”) raced to claim a parcel of the “Unassigned Lands” as their own.   And so from where the settlers gathered the city of Still Water came to be.  Still Water eventually also became the home of the University of Oklahoma.

In the 1960’s a man born in Hong Kong met a woman born in China at the University of Oklahoma.  They were my Mom and Dad.  They got married and birthed me in 1966 the year of the Chines Zodiac horse.

I was born in Still Water Hospital.  I don’t remember anything there, but my child hood feels like it was filled with much distress, fear, and anger of something I’m not quite sure of.  But I was known by many to be on the quiet and still temperament side much like the creek at Still Water Oklahoma.

In my sleep I recently had memories of entering this world in the presence of a tribe that sang at my arrival as a woman gently held my feet as I landed on the ground.  Many mothers held my feet making me feel so warm and safe in my arrival.  It almost make me cry when I remember these memories I so so so miss.  I strongly believe this is link back to my prior lives in a Native American homeland.  I don’t know if it was necessarily Oklahoma that was my homeland but more that Oklahoma holds the Spirit of so many Tribes from all over the land that I was bound to pick up this in my birth in this life time in the hospital of Still Water Oklahoma.

I remember I was welcomed by the people of this land with so much love and ceremony.  I belonged to the land.  The land was safe.  Life was safe.  The people around me were safe.  Because they welcomed me and most importantly my feet were held.

This is not how my birth happened in the Hospital in Still Water Oklahoma. Instead I now am starting to remember a rude awakening with a painful slap on my behind as I was extracted from my Mom’s womb thru Cesarian Section.  It did not feel safe.  My feet were not held warmly.  My feel were not welcomed to this land.  My feet were cold.  Life was threatening.  Still today often it’s my feet that gets cold.

It’s interesting that I the facts of history of Oklahoma and it’s relevance to me had never been revealed to me until now at the start of the year of the Horse, my year.

Happy New Year.  Gong Xi Fa Cai.




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