Shelley Bluejay Pierce (wahela9@yahoo.com) lives in the isolated mountains in Montana and
writes for mainstream press outlets, online magazines, blog sites, and in printed materials
world-wide. Indigenous cultures, wildlife and environmental issues are at the core of her writing.
As a mixed-blood Native woman, she carries a love for the Native Peoples who have endured
so much misunderstanding in their cultural and traditional ways and still struggle against
oppression. She is very proud of her Lakota, Cree and Irish heritage, and draws on their history
and struggles to survive when creating her writings.

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With autumn comes changes at all levels. We notice the crisper air, changing color of foliage and even the lighting appears different as the sun changes positions. During my many years spent here on this mountain, I have come to notice even the most subtle changes as they are reflected in patterns of living at all levels. This season change however, has brought a new awareness to me. 

During the past couple of months, my health has kept me from doing very much and that has been difficult in many ways, but also a blessing to me in various regards. When I first began writing online a few years ago, I shared the stories and photos of my life up here on the mountain. I did no activist, press or editorial/political work at all. I simply offered my views from here and what the daily events brought to me. Many friends around the globe expressed their gratitude at having an "online mental vacation" brought to them each day. So many people around the world are stuck inside cities and never see the wilderness in its truest most beautiful form. My stories and photos brought them an "escape" from the concrete jungles they lived in every day.

Over the past two years of working on press, political and activist storylines, I have lost some of that "connectedness" that was with me here on the mountain. When your mind is occupied with the struggles, lies, manipulations and corrupt activities that make up many of these stories, you can loose yourself in the midst of the work. Though my recent health problems have been a real pain to deal with, I have also been extremely grateful for them. Within each moment of this recent down time, I have found that deep connectedness again.

Being surrounded by silence that is broken only by the wind blowing through pine trees, calls of birds nearby or the hawk screaming as he flies above the mountain and the occasional twigs cracking as the deer wander through the meadows? Daily life takes on a new and profound depth. When we are so busy that we forget what we ate for lunch (or cannot remember if we took time to even eat that meal) and we cannot think of anything at the end of each day that dealt with something other than just the daily grind of activities, we loose our appreciation for the miracle of being alive. Creation and its beauty are lost upon us if we can think of nothing more than what phone calls and work needs to be done the next day and the next, and the next.

During the past month I have spent most of my time in bed trying to recuperate. My sweet husband would bring me reminders of the "outside world" that I could only enjoy through the windows. He brought me several handfuls of fresh raspberries or wild strawberries he had found while walking around the nearby meadows. (Trust me! there is nothing on the planet as delicious as wild raspberries and strawberries!) He would bring me a pretty feather or pick some wildflowers and set them in water where they could brighten my resting space. As I was able to be outside again, I began to re-connect to my home. I was shocked at how far my life had strayed from that connection to a place and the timing of all the things living within it. I had forgotten that my ears were "trained" well enough to know just what kind of flying insect was buzzing by me just by the particular sound its wings made in flight. I had forgotten that my nose could tell when the clover in the meadow was blooming because the scent upon the wind was so sweet. I lost the connection that my eyes had learned after so many seasons here in this place that allowed me to see the subtle changes in the lighting that spoke to the slow change of the seasons.

These things that speak to all my senses will not change the world political climate. The time spent smelling the sweet winds, listening to the water falling over stones in the meadow creek beds nearby and watching young birds learning to hunt for food with their parents will not bring world peace. The time spent on the deck watching a black bear search for food to prepare for what seems to be a long, cold winter ahead will not solve the global warming crisis. After the past few weeks of downtime though, I am beginning to believe that all the thousands of hours I have put into researching and writing about these world issues will not be altered much by my efforts either.

In truth, I know very well that I am only one voice and one tiny piece of a puzzle. Our success or failure to change this world will be based upon the massive efforts put forth by all human beings. As I have spent these quiet days lately and brought the beauty of creation closer to me, I also replayed some mental-movies over in my head. I was saddened at how distant these simple joys felt to me. In thinking about how easily my daily life became consumed with my work and the efforts required completing it, I felt out of balance and lost. How easily we humans can forget the balance we need to survive over the long haul in the business of daily life.

I remembered in particular a trip that I made with my daughter when we flew out to Boston a couple of years ago. I had been away from big cities for over five years and I can tell you that the airport, subway systems, sidewalks and traffic, crowded places compacted with other human beings and all that goes with being in a big city overwhelmed me. I could feel my heart racing and calmness vanish as it was replaced by a feeling I had left behind many years earlier when I left the big city and corporate world for my life on this mountain. I felt true dread with each venture out of the hotel room.

Oddly enough though, some of the mountain-connectedness had gone with me to Boston. My daughter found it odd that as we wandered the busy sidewalks, I would pause to "talk" to the pigeons that seemed perfectly happy to come right up and sit at my feet looking up at me. She was equally freaked out when we took a trip to a local tourist spot at the top of a high skyscraper where you could view all of the city and take a visual tour of the surrounding Boston area while reading signs placed at each window. An older German couple was there at the time and the woman was freaking out at a large bird that seemed to "follow that lady over there" from window to window. That "lady over there" was me and I had a wonderful time "playing" with a falcon who had adapted to big city life and was zooming around the windows looking in on me.

My daughter couldn't figure out why on earth there was a huge group of people gathered around me at the city aquarium...each person taking a turn literally hiding behind me and peeking their cameras over my shoulder so that they could finally capture a picture of this beautiful fish! That whole event began when I noticed a group of tourists peeking in and trying to get a beautiful fish to come out of its hiding place. The fish however, was having no part in their coaxing. As I walked by, the little fish darted out of its hiding place and came right up to the glass and was looking me eye to eye. However, as soon as one of the tourists came next to me, the little fish went fleeing back into hiding. Finally, one of the members in this group got smart and hid themselves behind me and took a picture over my shoulder of lovely little fish-friend when he returned to meet my gaze again. This gathered more strangers all into this one area as everyone became curious about what in the world was going on near this one fish tank.

(I have no clue what KIND of fish he is but for some reason he really wanted to just spend time with me!  He was the most beautiful brilliant blue and orange color!)

I looked over at my daughter who was just staring at this spectacle in confusion. Knowing that she wanted to get moving on, I finally had to break away from the fish-friend and the large group gathered there to take his picture. Along the tour of the aquarium, the penguins acted differently around me and further still other sorts of creatures would come up close to me. A few of the people we had met at the very first fish tank said, "Hey, just follow her and ALL the fish will come closer for a picture!"  I just laughed but it did seem to be true indeed.

No matter where my daughter and I traveled, odd connections kept happening between myself and other humans or critters! People of every size, shape, description or ethnicity would smile at me or strike up a conversation. Anyone who spends much time in a large city knows that really isn't the normal way of things... most people avoid eye contact or "talking to strangers" unless it is absolutely necessary.

That entire trip to Boston came back to me this past week as a precious "mental-movie" that spoke clearly to me about my recent feelings of being "disconnected" here on my mountain. When I left this mountain and went into the big city of Boston I had taken peace and serenity with me. The animals, birds and even fish felt like I wasn't a threat I suppose. People that I smiled at, looked right in the eye and talked to perhaps felt that I was of no threat and easily approached me. When I speak of "being in balance" that is what I am referring to. We cannot become so detached from the beauty that IS living in this wondrous creation for the business and demands that consume us entirely if we allow it to be so.

When we pause long enough to use all of our senses and truly tune in to all that is going on around us, there is a new sense of being connected to all that is Creation itself. If we say with our words that we care for our fellow human beings then why do we fear looking them directly in the eye or speaking a kind word to them when we pass by during daily life? If we say that we truly care about the welfare of the planet and the creatures that inhabit this planet with us, why do we avoid connecting with whatever creature comes into our life each day?  In truth, there is beauty and equal importance in all things whether it is an inner city pigeon on the sidewalk or a falcon daring to fly through the skyscrapers. A fish inside of an aquarium has just as much joy to offer us as the wild black bear we may cross paths with in the wilderness.

Many of my dear friends online have shared with me recently that they are going through some pretty difficult times right now. Whether the loss of loved ones, dealing with the stress of being active duty military, financial woes or other such pains, I have felt their sadness and lifted many prayers for each of them. I gift this story for anyone else that may need a break from the daily grind of life. Perhaps, as has happened to me over the past few months, you simply feel "out of balance" and need some downtime to get reconnected to all the small, simple joys surrounding you in daily life. We all get caught in the trap of forgetting the simple joys in life at times.... and as a reminder to all of you taking time to read this?  YOU are one of my most precious joys in daily life. Though I may not write you or talk with you directly for lengths of time, remember that each of you has brought me such joy in your friendship.

I wish you simplicity of life, love in your heart, soft winds that remind you of the fragrance of flowers, animals to remind you to trust with your heart, and peace.

Shelley Bluejay Pierce