BetterListen!

Excerpt from "Indigenous Peoples -- Message to the World"

  We at BetterListen! are delighted to offer this excerpt from our recording of "Indigenous Peoples -- Message to the World." Below is a transcription of The Indigenous Peoples Declaration of Interdependence. Recorded Live at The First Earth Summit in Rio in 1992.

Declaration: We the Indigenous Peoples walk to the future in the footprints of our ancestors, from the smallest to the largest living being, from the four directions, from the air, the land and the mountains.  The Creator has placed us, the Indigenous Peoples, upon our mother the earth. 

The footprints of our ancestors are permanently etched upon the lands of our peoples.  We the Indigenous Peoples maintain our inherent rights to self-determination. We have always had the right to decide our own forms of government, to use our own laws, to raise and educate our children, to our own cultural identity, without interference.  We continue to maintain our rights as peoples despite the centuries of deprivation, assimilation, and genocide. We maintain our inalienable rights to our lands and our territories, to all our resources above and below, and to our waters we assert our ongoing responsibility to pass these on to the future generations. 

We cannot be removed from our lands.  We the Indigenous peoples are connected by the circle of life to our lands and environment. 

We the Indigenous peoples walk to the future in the footprints of our ancestors.  Signed in Karoka, Brazil on the 30th day of May, 1992.

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Excerpt From Broken Open by Elizabeth Lesser - Part 2 of 5

Elizabeth Lesser continues to share with us her experience in the following excerpt from her book BROKEN OPEN: How Difficult Times Help Us Grow

The old man stood and shuffled over to meet me. He placed his right hand on his heart and

bowed his head in the traditional Islamic greeting. “Look,” he said, pointing at a small painting hanging on the wall. He touched my arm with the kindness of a grandfather. “See the rose?” he asked, turning me toward the picture. There, framed in dark wood, was the ethereal image of a rosebud, with shimmering, pale petals holding one another in a tight embrace. Under the flower was an inscription that read:

And the time came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

Unexpected tears stung my eyes as I read the words. The two men hovered around me, more like bodyguards than salesmen. I turned away from them, hiding my face in the shadows. I was afraid that if the old man showed me one more ounce of mercy I would break down in a stranger’s store, thousands of miles from home.

“What is wrong?” the long-haired man asked.

“Nothing is wrong,” I said. “I’m fine.”

“No, something is wrong,” the man said. “You are in

pain.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, suspicious yet curious. Was he a con man, trying to sell me the painting, or was my heartache that palpable, my story so easily read? I felt exposed, as if the long-haired man was a spy of the soul who knew all about my marriage, my two little boys, and the crazy mess my husband and I had made of our life together.