Cherokee Wisdom Quotes

When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice.

A Native American wisdom story tells of an old Cherokee who is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy. “It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil—he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is good—he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you—and inside every other person, too.” The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?” The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.

Okay, just so we're clear," Piper said, "I'll show you where Jason and I entered the maze, but I'm not doing the stereotypical Native American tracker thing. I don't know tracking. I'm not your guide." We all readily agreed, as one does when delivered an ultimatum by a friend with strong opinions and poison darts. "Also," she continued, "if any of you find the need for spiritual guidance on this quest, I am not here to provide that service. I'm not going to dispense bits of ancient Cherokee wisdom." "Very well," I aid. "Though as a former prophecy god, I enjoy bits of spiritual wisdom." "Then you'll have to ask the satyr," Piper said. Grover cleared his throat. "Um, recycling is good karma?" "There you go," Piper said.

One day, a young boy went up to his grandfather, who was an old Cherokee chief. ‘Edudi?’ the boy asked. ‘Why are you so sad?’ The old chief bit his lip and rubbed his belly as if his stomach pained him unmercifully. ‘There is a terrible fight inside me, Uhgeeleesee’, the chief said sternly. ‘One that will not let me sleep of give me peace’. ‘A fight Grandfather? I don’t understand. What kind of fight is inside you?’ The old chief knelt in front of the boy to explain. ‘Deep inside my heart, I have two wolves. Each strong enough to devour the other, they are locked in constant war. One is evil through and through. He is revenge, sorrow, regret, rage, greed, arrogance, stupidity, superiority, envy, guilt, lies, ego, false pride, inferiority, self-doubt, suspicion and resentment. The other wolf is everything kind. He is made of peace, blissful tranquillity, wisdom, love and joy, hope and humility, compassion, benevolence, generosity, truth, faith and empathy. They circle each other inside my heart and they fight one another at all times. Day and night. There is no letup. Not even while I slumber’. The boy’s yes widened as he sucked his breath in sharply. ‘How horrible for you’. His grandfather shook his head at these words and tapped the boy’s chest right where his own heart was located. ‘It’s not just horrible for me. This same fight is also going on inside you and every single person who walks this earth with us’. Those words terrified the little boy. ‘So tell me Grandfather, which of the wolves will win this fight?’ The old chief smiled at his grandson and he cupped his young cheek before he answered with one simple truth. ‘Always the one we feed’. Be careful what you feed, child. For the beast will follow you home and live with you until you either make a bed for it to stay, or find the temerity to drive it out.

My first lessons were to respect all life, protect Mother Earth, and nurture the plants and herbs. I look whenever I go home to the Reservation to see if comfrey, fennel, catnip, rosemary, and many of the plants that we care for are still growing in the backyard. Sure enough, they are always there, reminding me that life does go on.

A small boy searches for a way to explain life with all its complexities. His Cherokee grandfather smiles and explains life in all its simplicities. Many years later, another small boy talks about the simple things of life, while his father describes how complex life is today. Inside, the father feels the not-so-distant words of his grandfather speaking softly: You are not just alive, you are part of all life itself. You are kin to all things, and everything has life . . . and memory. Things have a way of coming full circle—as a way of completing the Circle, and creating opportunities for life, love, growth, feeling, and learning.

Emerson generally avoided discussing politics and current controversies; he wanted his lectures and essays to be timeless and universal. But he made an exception when it came to injustices against Native Americans and African Americans, which were—and are—violations of timeless and universal principles. In 1838, he wrote an impassioned open letter to President Van Buren (published in newspapers in Boston and Washington, DC), protesting the forced removal of the Cherokee people from their lands.

In Indian Medicine, energy is a continuum that does not change. We as energy beings have our own special vibration, and we connect with other energy by a process of phasing our energy into our center or spirit self, then emerging or opening our hands to receive the energy of the Universal Circle. Instead of seeing energy as just being work, the elder teachers consider it associated with each of the Four Directions as physical, mental, spiritual, and natural. It can be directed, interfered with, and taught.

An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy. “It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil—he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.” He continued, “The other is good—he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you—and inside every other person, too.” The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?” The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.” —CHEROKEE LEGEND

My mother, Ruth Rogers Garrett, taught me many Cherokee stories. She taught through example to be a helper to everyone you ever meet. She taught me that everyone is special in this life, that love has no boundaries, and that boundaries cannot be set on love.

This story of Indian Medicine begins with the many stories that were shared by many elder Native American teachers. There is a simple innocence about the complex nature of Nature. As a Nachez Medicine Elder once said to me, “It (Nature) is as it always was, but we as humans try to change it to make it ours. In fact, we are the younger, ’cause Nature was here before us. So we must honor Nature, and in doing so, we honor our ancestors who realized the critical balance we have with all things.

One of the important lessons for me to learn was having the negative energy move around me, instead of internalizing and reacting to criticisms.

I learned the lesson of acceptance. The spiritual power entrusted in me was more important than the person trying to take the power away from me. I learned something about the lesson of the opposites, and was able to look at things both ways and in the third person. The Elder said, as I returned that evening, “It is time for all of us to evolve to a higher level of understanding about these things, in a spiritual way. Find ways to understand the fears that others face. They wear a mask, you don’t have to, unless you have something to hide.

The wisdom of the past becomes the bridge to the future, like the rising and setting of the Sun in a continuous motion of ageless beauty. Healing becomes the understanding of a calm spirit, connecting the memory of our ancestors and all living things, experiencing a sense of oneness in the energy-flow of choice and presence through unity of mind, body,

Also,” she continued, “if any of you find the need for spiritual guidance on this quest, I am not here to provide that service. I’m not going to dispense bits of ancient Cherokee wisdom.” “Very well,” I said. “Though as a former prophecy god, I enjoy bits of spiritual wisdom.” “Then you’ll have to ask the satyr,” Piper said. Grover cleared his throat. “Um, recycling is good karma?” “There you go,” Piper said. “Everybody good? All aboard.

Each town was represented by a council. The council was headed by a shaman, who had no authority but advised on spiritual and medical matters. There were two chiefs--the White chief (also known as the most beloved man), who handled daily concerns of the town, and the Red chief, who offered advice regarding war parties, victory dances, and the spirited games that were a vital part of the Cherokee way of life. Seven elder men were chosen from each clan. These men usually led discussions, although all Cherokee men participated. The council discussed town concerns, including religious matters, and decided by consensus, meaning general agreement. Cherokee society had little need of formal laws. Seeking harmony in relations with each other, they maintained order by social pressure and negotiation among disputing individuals or clans. The Cherokee were a highly organized people, not only within each village, but in the nation as a whole, with two forms of government--the White for civil or peacetime affairs and the Red for waging war. The White chief was the religious head or high priest as well. Next in important to the chief was the right-hand man, or itausta, and then the chief speaker. The chief had seven councilors, including the right-hand man, who formed the main government. The Red organization consisted of a group of officials corresponding in rank to the White leaders, except that they were responsible only for military activities. The White organization had slightly more power because the Red chief was selected by the White chief. There were other important people within the Cherokee government, notably the beloved woman, an elderly matron who was honored for her wisdom and goodness. Seven women, usually the eldest women in the nation, also took part in many council ceremonies. The national government met in a large seven-sided building situated on a high mound in the capital. The capital was not fixed at first, but was always in the village of the White chief, although Echota eventually became the traditional capital. As in the town council house, the seating arrangement was highly formalized, with the White chief occupying the seat of honor. Here, Cherokee leaders held elaborate national ceremonies, assembled war parties, and administered laws.