By Lisa Dryburgh
The sound of soft, classical music comes drifting out from an officeat the end of the corridor. It is a welcoming and peaceful place, but itis a hot day, and the breeze outside beckons.
"I thought we could go outside to do the interview," says JoanneNeddow, her eyes sparkling like the summer sun. "Under the trees somewhere,or close to the water. I want to take you to Heart Hill."
As we head out from the band office into the depth of the White BearIndian Reserve, her eyes are scanning the landscape in search of the twobald hills which rise up triumphantly amid the flatness of trees and water.
Neddow has no map, and ignores the compass in the car. She uses her intuition,and finally a few directions from one of the locals, to guide her to thehills.
She explains that the two hills are named 'Heart Hill,' denoting thetwo chambers of the heart.
"It's a sacred place, where the Native people came to do their missionquests," she notes. "That practice has recently been revived."
For Neddow, it is a place of intense spirituality. "My experienceis of feeling the strength of the earth, of the mother," she explains."From up there you begin to feel that this is the earth it hasa very strong pull."
We park at the foot of the hills, and it becomes evident that we aregoing to climb to the top. In defiance of summer sandals, long skirts andscorching summer rays, we gather two long birch branches and begin the ascent.
At first it is cool beneath the green, leafy branches. Prayer clothsin various colors are randomly tied to trunks, bearing testimony to thesacred nature of these hills. I feel an intruder in this domain, and treadlightly so as not to disturb the spirits.
Higher up, there is no respite from the sun, but with each step like drawing back a curtain the view below unfolds. "The viewfrom the top of the hill is astounding," says Neddow, between breaths."All the trees and the water . . . "
And it is: Heart Hill offers a bird's eye view of the reserve, and atthe top the peace is broken only by nature itself: Some angry bees, ducksflapping on water, and cows grazing in the fields.
But Neddow knows the real troubles and turmoil that play with the livesof many on the reserve. Living among the Natives, and working as a mentalhealth worker on the reserve, she has come to identify with their struggles.
"I feel the sufferings of the people, and I know that, under allthe struggles Natives are faced with, there is a sense that I get when Isit here of who they really are. They share that with me."
Neddow has a strong belief that this sharing is the only way in whichher counselling can only be effective.
"I don't believe in the medical model of keeping detached,"she explains. "In order to be a healing influence in someone's life,you have to connect, to care, to feel their pain, to feel truly overjoyedwhen good things come.
"I have learned to share their pain, anger, and fear, and to letthese things move through me, rather than to hold on to them. I didn't comehere to carry people's burdens for them I have no right to do that.
She goes on to admit that she is "not very keen on textbook therapists.There's no equality with the person you're working with if you set yourselfup to be superior. If you haven't walked in the shoes you're asking peopleto walk in, how can you be with them?"
In the course of her life, Neddow has faced many internal struggles ofher own. "This whole journey has been a struggle for me," shesays, going back in time to the mid-eighties, when her "journey ofdiscovery" all began.
While working at the Allan Blair Cancer Clinic in Regina, she becameintrigued with holistic health, and healing the body through the mind.
"I had questions which really disturbed me," she explained."I couldn't understand why two patients with the same diagnosis anddemographics had different outcomes in terms of their illness. My otherquestion related to all the commonly thought-of causes of cancer, and whythose affect some people and not others.
"One oncologist thought it had to do with the will to live,"she recalls. "If the difference is the will to live, was there no wayto discover how to acquire this?"
Neddow devoted a lot of time to exploring different approaches to cancertherapy, beginning to deal with holistic health in an intense way.
"I was out on a limb to a large extent, and at times was very unpopular,"she says. "Eventually the system didn't support that, and I went intocounselling therapy in private practice."
While her practice was a resounding success "I had a specialtypeople were seeking, and worked with a lot of sexual abuse and women's issues" as a result of her own inner struggles, Joanne later felt compelledto leave all this behind.
Family and friends thought she was crazy. One friend presented her witha marble at her farewell party, saying, "Joanne, we know you're losingyour marbles, so we want you to have one."
Not knowing where she was going, Neddow went home to Moosomin for a while.She recalls that this was a "risky and frightening time I hadno direction, and I appeared to be leaving security."
While in Moosomin, Neddow began to feel a strong urge to go to Carlyle,and rented a cabin at White Bear Lake. Spending a lot of time in solitude,integration into the community on the reserve was a slow and unintentionalprocess.
"I didn't come looking for a job there was just this callinginside of me," she recalls. "In the Native tradition, people chooseleaders and healers. It's not a job you can apply for, and it's not basedon how many degrees you have. It's based on how you walk with people the way you live."
While Neddow was screened by Health Canada to be approved as a therapistin a First Nation community, the real approval came from the people themselves.
Over time, the people of White Bear came to choose Neddow as their healer."They've given me many gifts and privileges, and I know it's an honorto be among them," she says. "Not everyone has been given thathonor, and I am very grateful for the gifts that have been given to me inmy time here.
"People share a lot of who they are with me I was just anattendant at a friend's wedding on the reserve. Some share their lives withme: Wonderful humor, beautiful spirituality and a sense of community."
Neddow knows that the Natives have been given signs about her role amongthem. At the end of a workshop which she held on her acreage near Wawota,two eagles soared and circled over the gathering.
"I felt very blessed by that," she says. "I felt it wasan affirmation about being here, and it also spoke to the people."
Neddow says that while her role among the people on the reserve is stillunfolding, part of it is to be a bridge between two cultures. "If Ionly can help my own people understand the Native culture," she sayshesitantly, aware that she is treading on tender ground.
"When I try to talk to my own people about the story of the Nativepeople, they become defensive. They continue to deny what colonization didto these people: It took away their language, their spiritual practices everything about them was wrong. But the things that so many peoplesee when they look at Native people in terms of their problems aren't whothey really are."
Neddow believes that the Natives are now coming back to recover theirspiritual traditions and identity, and that it is time for them to "riseup out of their oppression." She hopes to be a catalyst for the processof resurrection.
"I feel the truth of their teachings resonates somewhere deep insideme, and I watch as many others are drawn towards these people and theirteachings," she says. "I believe they're going to have a veryimportant role to play in bringing harmony to Earth. Why wouldn't I feelit's a privilege to be among people who have such a destiny?"
Yet she is not as certain about her own destiny. "I don't know whoI'll be a year from now life doesn't look anything like I thoughtit was going to. That has only come about because at some point I let goof the vision of who I was supposed to be, and how the world was supposedto be."
Despite the uncertainty of not knowing what tomorrow will bring, Neddowknows that if there is nothing more to life, then this is enough.
"When I left Regina my soul was starving, now it's full. Being backin nature, sitting here with the earth beneath me doesn't compare with cement."
Joanne Neddow is finding herself by immersing herself in Native culture.She has received many gifts from the White Bear First Nations people.
In turn, her spirituality is a blessing to many of those around her,and a bridge to peace and understanding with her own people.
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