I am a Métis person. My Grandfather was half-Mohawk and Irish. I recently found out that we are more than likely direct decendants of Joseph Brant, and this was meaningful to me, after growing up without these connections. My Grandfather did not speak of his Native heritage, and in fact, I did not meet my father's family until I was a teenager. My Grandfather's mother was in a residential school, and more before her. This has echoed throughout our family, and my Grandfather's silence on the topic of his heritage spoke more than he realized.

Why am I talking about this ? Since I was a small child, I have been more at home in the woods, and in nature, than in most places. While there, I always talked to the trees and the sky, the animals and the rocks. The rocks were the only bits I could take with me, to remind me of where I came from. I was always searching for the hidden magic in nature, but with rocks, I didn't need to search. I would hold the stone in my hand, and feel a low thrill of life, thrumming under the calm exterior. I started to notice that the stones all had their own voices, and some spoke more loudly to me at different times than others.

I have always had caches of stones around me, it's just a natural part of my surroundings.

When my husband and I married, I felt the call of the stones again. Our Medicine Woman had us collecting different stones for our Medicine bags in preparation for our marriage. The stones were practically singing to me by then, and I have increased the chorus by leaps and bounds by then.

I was ordered by our midwives, not too long after, to put my feet up, and do nothing. It got very quiet, and I could really begin to make a meaningful connection with the stones.

Sometimes when I am working, the voices are so loud, I can't hear anything else, I can only feel the singing energy in my blood, and I just follow where it leads.

My husband and I have two children. We live in a house filled to the brim with love and blessings, music and art, and of course, stones.