18 February, 2010
I guess, for the majority of high school and college, I was what could be labeled as an agnostic. I knew there was something out there greater than I was, but I couldn't put a finger on what. I began to research my own family history. My maternal grandmother was almost 100% Native American. I didn't grow up knowing all of this; I actually found out around the time my grandfather died. In my heart, there was something very beloved and treasured about this part of my genetics.
The more reading I did on my tribal history, the more of a sense of home and peace I was getting in my heart. Of course, I didn't do much about it religiously. I was still hurting and wrestling with that good ol' Catholic guilt. The God and Goddess were waiting patiently for me to find them. I know now that they led me to pick up the books on my family history and that eventually I'd come to seek them as well.