Unheard voices
Doug Modig Speaks about indigenous spirituality
By Geoff Bederson
I was exercising at the Alaska Club health center, watching people running on treads, gliding on artificial skis, stepping on fake stairs. It all seemed very normal (and meaningless). But when I walked into the sauna I was struck by something strange. A blast of super-heated air hit me, and I took a seat at the lowest level. The chanting I heard from above was unclassifiable, except that it transported me back to Ecuador, where last summer I participated in an all night Native ceremony. We had taken a powerful natural medicine. All night long we stared at the full moon and the flaming campfire, and listened to the weird chanting of the shaman. There was no rhythm or melody: just powerful unknown words that seemed to spring up out of the Earth.
The chanting I heard in the sauna at the Alaska Club was the same chant. Two Native men with long grey hair were sitting above me. The older one fell silent when I entered; but the other one kept chanting.
Later, as we were dressing, I asked him about the chants, and if he would be willing to share his story.
Humanity News: What were you doing when I walked into the sauna?
I was singing the song of peace. It’s a prayer. Chanting is a part of my life, because it is a way to find and maintain a firm connection to the creation. We Natives have a spirituality that is older than Christianity. As a result of losing touch with this, we don’t know who the heck we are. My intention was to connect with that ancient form of spirituality.
Humanity News: What do you think is the spiritual situation of Alaskan Natives?
For one thing, we are hurt by stereotypes. You read negative statistics in newspapers; you see degrading images on television - and many of them are very far from the truth of who Alaskan and American Natives truly are. As a result you find a loss of identity, and many of our people are floundering around.
Native people have a difficult time communicating, and this is mostly because there is little trust. People in today’s world think more of the individual: what’s in it for me. Native people generally asked: how is this going to help the community - and more importantly, how will this affect my children, grandchildren, and great, great, great grandchildren? It’s tribal vs. individual. We need to think of the whole.
Can you tell me how you arrived at this view?
I grew up in a Christian community. That’s what they were. But the relation between what they said and what they practiced was inconsistent. They’d have affairs, they’d beat each other, they’d drink to oblivion. That’s how I grew up. So I said, there has to be a different way.
In Alaska, our regions were divided up into religious denominations, and most of these were Christian. Now, I have no problem with Christianity, though I don’t relate to that form of spirituality. I don’t want to talk bad about Christianity.
I still needed the spirituality, but the available forms of Christianity didn’t help me. So I wandered around in the world, especially in my younger days. I spent several years in prison, for armed robbery and bank robbery. I lived on the streets, in one of the major West coast cities. I didn’t fit in very well to society.
How did you learn about Pre-Christian Native spirituality?
It was during my darkest time. I was out of prison. Chances were pretty good I was going to go back. I was so angry, so violent.
And then one day I was visited by Native Elders. Some of them you could call Wide Awake Elders, people you could see and touch. Some came from different parts of Native America. They stopped me and said, If you want to really find freedom, you have to find the prison inside of yourself, and in order to free yourself from that you have to give up yourself and serve a power greater than yourself.
During that period I was visited by several different Elders. I call them Elders. Sometimes I call them Spirits, or different thought-forms. Most of them were spiritual forms. The kind of knowledge I needed to survive in today’s world didn’t come from a human being. It came from these Elders who came to visit me. So that’s how I came to believe. There were many Native traditions shared with me - all of them different from the Christian. But when I talked about it to some of my Christian friends they said I needed to be dispossessed, and that they needed to do a de-possession ceremony.
Is any of that pre-Christian spiritual life still here in Alaska?
Hardly ever. There are a few, a very few, that practice the old forms of Native spirituality. Most of them are blended with modern forms of spirituality, including Christianity. There are others like me, but they become somewhat of a pariah for believing differently. So they don’t talk about it.
Every now and then I run into an old Elder from the Native tradition, medicine people, mostly from the lower 48. The ones from Alaska hide. You’ll never hear them talking in a public forum. They don’t come out to play. You’re not going to hear from them. Most of them hide out.
For years Natives were persecuted. The little chants they did were to give thanks, but they were thought of as devil worshippers. Their totems were burned down. So we don’t go public with this kind of stuff.
Why are you willing to talk about this?
Because I’m half insane, I’m half crazy. I operate out of a different paradigm. I talk about a lot of things that most people don’t. I’ve just been willing to say what I believe, and to suffer the consequences. I’m not sure why that is.
It’s just like my chant. You notice that my buddy got real quiet when you came into the sauna. Not me. I say what I have to say. I like the ability to get along with people. On the other hand, I’m not afraid to be alone. I’ve been in prison. And lying to people is a form of prison.
Every now and then someone will get really angry with me, because my definition of spirituality is different than the prevailing ones. They’ll rain on me pretty bad. I am willing to accept their beliefs. I’ll accept their view that I will burn in hell, without arguing about it. But I also hold my ground.
What would you like to see happen with the Native communities in Alaska?
I wonder about that sometimes. I’m really proud of the Alaska Native Medical Center, and Southcentral Foundation, and what they’ve done to create better quality care for Alaska Natives, especially here in Anchorage. They’ve done an exemplary job. On the other hand, most of the ailments people have are related not to their bodies but their spirits, and their lack of will and volition. What I’d like to see is people become more mindful and what I call ‘directors of their own healing.’
Here’s what we’re trying to do: We’re trying to prepare our young people for an unknown and unknowable future. That is what we have done for generations.
How is the relationship between Natives and Whites in Alaska? Should there be a separation? Or should we now try to join together?
People should be who they are, whoever they are. And how they interact then is what creates something pretty darn special. I don’t know if there should be an exclusivity anywhere.
I also sing the blues. Some of those songs are truly profound. But that doesn’t mean that I’m somehow unfaithful to my Native heritage. The point is we’re all one family.
What is, is. And what is, is that we have a bunch of people that want what we have. They colonized us, and it’s as simple as that. It is so. That’s the way it is. But it’s totally impractical to try to get everybody to go back home. And it’s a waste of spirit, to worry about it, or to grieve about it.
In order to deal with the situation, there needs to be an open dialogue, with the intention of coming to some agreement about how we can coexist. It is not useful to stake out different little territories. We need to recognize that it takes time, a lot of time, to come to agreement. More importantly, it takes total respect. And we don’t have this. It’s also a process of engagement. We have to create a dialogue that has the intention of resolving these problems. Let’s get beyond exclusivity.
Do you have any suggestions for people who want to learn about true Native pre-Christian spiritual life?
If you want to know, go to the Earth. The birds well tell you, the animals will tell you. If you’re open to it, they’ll teach you. That’s where it’s at, from a Native point of view.
If you mean, are there teachers out there, I don’t know of any. There are people who can share some artifacts, but that’s more like being a student. The real answer is in every individual. It’s a personal journey.
You bring it with you. It is within you. You can get in touch with it, sometimes, through music. Some of the chants and Native songs I do can help to reach a higher plane, and another level of consciousness. And even some of the forms of blues can do this.
It’s really a quest. It’s about looking. If it’s not working, that’s a sign. All the signs are there. They come from the Earth. The belief is that the Earth is our mother, from where all life comes. Wherever you are - even in Ecuador - the Earth speaks to us in the same language.
Doug Modig was raised on the island of Ketchikan. His people are from Metlakatla, from the Tsimshiam tribe. Doug runs Gathering of Eagles, a business that provides guidance for Native communities around the United States, often for trade or subsistence. He and he wife fostered the development of the Alaska Native Sobriety Movement.
