Chapter 6 – Grandmother Twylah

I started this book by writing about Australia but none of this would have been possible without meeting Grandmother Twylah. It all started one day when a friend of mine brought over a video for me to watch. Graham and I had trained together in Humanistic Psychology and shared an interest in anything Native American. The video was about an elder of a Native American tribe. Sitting on the floor, I found myself crying all the way through. The only thing I remembered afterwards was the fact that she explained how trees talked to each other. Still sniffling, all I said was “I want to sit at her feet and learn.” My next thought was “Well that won’t happen because she is probably dead and I have no idea who she is, apart from her Christian name Grandmother Twylah”.  And so life went on, but she was always there, at the back of my mind.

A few months later I heard that the Lakota Sioux were looking for people to help them with addiction issues that they had within the tribe. This was an area of my work as a therapist and I started to find out more about their needs. Finally, with Graham, I decided to go to Dakota and offer my help. In order to make the trip, I decided to sell a beautiful French clock I had inherited. Selling heirlooms was to become a pattern for future trips. My ancestors had a way of putting the means to travel in my path through inherited objects that no longer fitted in with our lifestyle.

For some bizarre reason, Graham and I decided to fly into Boston. I can’t for the life of me remember why, however we decided to drive across the States to Dakota where the Lakota Sioux reservation was. We set off full of enthusiasm, tinged with a little anxiety. At some point, whilst we were on this journey, Graham noticed that we were near an Onandaga reservation. The Onondaga were part of the Iroquois Federation. He suggested we go have a look-see, as this way we could get used to being on a reservation. My mother had been born in Iroquois Falls and I certainly called on her spirit to be with us that morning. As we drove into the reservation it felt very still, eerie, together with a definite feeling of being watched.

The place seemed deserted until we rounded a corner. There in front of us was a school with colourful designs on the walls. Outside a whole bunch of women were gathered – some clearly Native American and others looked more American American. As we stopped the car opposite the school, I felt a waft of hostility come towards us.

Graham, out of the blue, suggested that I walk over and ask them if they knew the old lady we had seen on the video. “You have got to be joking! I am not going to speak to Those women” I said terrified. He didn’t seem to take any notice and practically shoved me out of the car. Reticently, very self consciously, which rarely goes down well in these circumstances, I asked Graham’s suggested question to the nearest woman, who looked at me like the wolf in red riding hood. Without an ounce of grace, one of them said “No” and they all turned their backs on me. I snuck back to the car and said, “See, told you it was a bad idea”. Graham just sat there calmly, saying nothing. A few moments later, another group of women appeared and he said, “Try again”. This time I took a few deep breaths and with a more belligerent attitude, mainly towards Graham, got out of the car and headed purposefully in their direction. I asked the same question and, although it was with less hostility, got the same answer. This time I thanked them and walked back to the car.

“Wait a minute,” a woman called after me. “I couldn’t help hearing you. I know the woman Twylah you are talking about. Her full name is Twylah Nitsch. She is known as Grandmother Twylah out of respect. She lives nowhere near here but the other side of the country. The reservation is outside Buffalo. In fact, I am not sure she is still alive as she was very ill the last time I heard about her”. We weren’t going that way. It all felt a waste of time. I just wanted to get off this reservation and continue our journey to Dakota. Graham became like a terrier with a bone and suggested that before we headed that way, why not go to Niagra Falls. “Why indeed” I muttered, but somehow we were now driving that way. Little did I realise that Buffalo is right by Niagra! Once we got there, I really enjoyed being a tourist and loved all the rainbows in the Falls. I even remember spending a great afternoon communing with a seagull that followed me around everywhere.

 

 

 

 

 

 

That evening, we stayed in a motel on the edge of Buffalo. I had forgotten that I had also mentioned the name of Grandmother Twylah’s reservation to Graham. He was pouring over a map and casually said the reservation was not far away. The next morning, as a passenger, I behaved like a sulky child. Graham ignored me and drove us to the reservation. It was huge. We wandered around aimlessly until I asked him to stop outside a dingy looking general store. I had had enough of freewheeling and suggested that at least we could ask about her in the store. This time Graham came inside with me but left the speaking to me as usual, it felt. The man’s face behind the counter was hidden by a big hat. He didn’t lift his head when I said hello. Rather loudly, I asked if he knew her and he mumbled “Nope”.  Shrugging at Graham  as we were walking out, I saw a phone book. I love phone books and can spend hours musing over them absorbing the fascinating stories they can tell about who lives where, family connections, what kind of businesses seem to flourish. Deciding to look up her name ,to my surprise, there she was. A tatty piece of paper was nearby and I jotted her address down.

We got back in the car and drove around with a little more sense of purpose. The eerie silence was here too, like the other reservation, and it began to feel aimless again, as if we were going round in circles. Having the address didn’t seem to help. It was also getting late and the light was fading. I asked Graham to stop and suggested we come back the next day, or, even better phone.  He didn’t appear to be listening. Before I lost my patience and snapped at him, I looked in the mirror, I stared behind us at a letter box I could see on a post. I looked at the piece of paper in my hand. We were outside her house. Graham suggested I go knock on the door. “What, are you mad? It is early evening, she is probably seriously ill or even dead, we can’t do that” but despite my protest I got out of the car! Slowly I started to walk towards the path leading to the house. Coming down the path was a little old lady. We met halfway. She suddenly became a huge bear and hugged me so firmly I could hardly breathe. “What has taken you so long. I have been waiting an age for you to come,” she whispered in my ear. She peeked over my shoulder saying “you had better ask him to join us and bring your bags in”.  In fact, he was already getting them out of the car and about to follow us. Somehow still holding onto me, she shrunk down to her normal diminutive size, the bear disappeared. My first conscious experience of shapeshifting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Strangely, I still have the multi-coloured skirt I wore the whole time we were there, including a green sweatshirt which I have often worn to paint in for inspiration. We stayed in her house, in a room full of bright colours with a lovely crocheted blanket on the bed. Colour would play a big part in the teachings to come. There were lots of outbuildings on the land behind the house including a wooden teaching lodge, even a cookhouse.  People seemed to appear and then vanish as if by magic. I never really found out who they were. There was an old dog, who seemed to be everyone’s friend. She became a great source of comfort over the coming days as my emotions seesawed up and down, even sideways. It felt like Grandmother Twylah opened the top of my head, poured information in and reconnected parts of my brain I didn’t even know existed. Some of this information contained scientific facts which gently unravelled over the years.  Although he was actually there, Graham seemed to have disappeared into a cloud. This became a very personal journey for each of us.

My world just seemed to contain Grandmother Twylah and a young Apache. I learned that she was part of the Wolf Clan of the Senecas.  My brain was swimming in colours, animals, crystal pathways, other dimensions and much more. When I thought my head couldn’t absorb any more teachings, she announced one morning that we needed to go to Arizona. We were to come back to her when we felt the time was right. She explained that she was sending us there to experience everything we had learned and to remember everything we had forgotten.

When we asked about going to Dakota, she said that it was coyote energy to get us to come to her. Not sure at the time what she meant, we would eventually understand why it was dangerous for us to go there. Later on, I found out that the government was sending people like us to spy on them and that it would have in fact been very unwise and naïve for us to go at that time. Interestingly, I would eventually work with many tribes but very differently.

We had no specific instructions other than spend some time exploring the Grand Canyon and the areas around it. So off we set. We headed for Fairfax, a little town near the Grand Canyon. On the surface, we seemed to be playing tourist and went to the Canyon. As we drove there, a coyote crossed in front of the car and eyeballed us. By this time, I knew what he represented and although it was trickster energy, it was also about trusting the timing. Although the spectacular sight of the canyon was awe inspiring, at another level it felt familiar, like coming home. I had had that feeling when I had been with my father on a reservation near Palm Springs a few years before. I had a sense that we had lived there in another lifetime. Perhaps that was not so crazy after all. I had sometimes wondered what on earth was happening to me. Was any of this real?

On our return from the Canyon, I decided to take advantage of the sauna in the hotel. Luckily I had it to myself and it felt very cosy. I snuggled up in my towel, becoming weightless, when suddenly a whole group of wolves curled up around me.  I have no idea how long this lasted but I didn’t want it to end. It definitely took me a while to ground myself and be able to come out of the sauna. I have no idea how I got to our room but, I fell fast asleep, waking up the next morning half expecting the wolves to be at the foot of the bed.

Being eyeballed by different animals carried on as we drove around. We visited Tuba City which is a bustling Navajo town and where I started to learn about Native American artefacts as opposed to being seduced by a need to own them. We also visited a Hopi reservation, deepening our understanding and learning every day. By now reservations were no longer eerie. Over the following years, I would come back to the reservations including spending time with Zuni and Pueblo tribes. The eeriness was actually silence, stillness, allowing room for other dimensions to be.

One day we discovered Chaco Canyon. Here I experienced more strongly than ever the feeling that I had been there before.  I have returned there since with exactly the same feeling of belonging. That particular day, I also remember meeting an Apache boy with a jewellery stall in the middle of nowhere. We spent some time talking to him and I have never forgotten him saying his biggest dream was to go to Stonehenge. I often wonder if he got there, I hope he did. A few years later, as we were literally driving near Stonehenge, my son Avrum announced from the back of the car that he had a Native American spiritual guide called Apache Boy. He still does and calls on him whenever he needs help.

I learned how to interpret what I observed every day.  These observations and experiences became signposts on my journey and they still do wherever I go. I use them every day and have passed the teachings on whenever I can. We realised by now it was time to go back to Grandmother Twylah to continue our journey with her. She quizzed me when I got back, teasing out all the nuances. My head seemed to be opened again and even more information poured in. When I told her about the coyote and wolves she virtually cackled. The next morning, she initiated us into the tribe, gave me a name, two deceptively simple pouches – one representing my name, She-wolf of Peace, and the other a microcosm of the teachings. I then disappeared into a deep trance and when I came to, standing in front of me was the young Apache. Strangely he was very similar to the one in the middle of the desert – had he been real? This Apache certainly was.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was sitting on the floor one afternoon, at Grandmother Twylah’s feet, when I told her I had decided to go home to England, fetch my two young sons, returning to come and live with her. Her eyes pierced my soul and said “No, you are to go home, make everything I have taught you your own and then teach. They are waiting for you”. I could feel a ball of fear in the pit of my stomach, I wanted to protest. I wasn’t ready, it was too much to expect of me. She looked at me in her impeccable way and said “this is why you came here; it is time for you to go home”. My suitcase was filled with books, booklets, teaching material, and little gifts. One of the most precious gifts was from the Universe, a very ordinary stone I had picked up on her land and she had taught me to literally interpret the markings on it and subsequently work with other stones in this way. To this day I know exactly where my first stone is. It is no longer ordinary.

From the beginning she taught me to connect with the world around me, showing respect and gratitude for every aspect of that world. We started each day with a spiritual practice acknowledging that without the elements of the sun, the moon, the planets, the earth, the plants, and the animals, we wouldn’t exist. Most importantly for me, I needed to acknowledge my deepest desire to walk in peace, which I had had ever since I was a little girl.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was a beautiful stone circle on her land; it felt very special to be able to do ceremony there as it was a representation of the atomic structure that we actually live in. Somehow, being amongst the stones grounded all the lessons she was teaching me. However, Grandmother Twylah was ever practical, by doing ceremony most of the time in her house; she underlined the fact that I could do it anywhere. It certainly wasn’t about needing a special environment; all I needed was my willingness to start my day with respect and gratitude.

I am smiling as I write this as I admit that I love stone circles and can sniff them out like a true wolf. My greatest delight today is climbing up muddy tracks with my grandchildren in search of ancient stone circles so that they can enjoy being in that energy. No wonder the Apache boy wanted to go to Stonehenge! I came home with the profoundest gift of all, a spiritual practice that made sense to me and resonated with my DNA.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I stepped off the plane, the unravelling began …