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Dreams of Home

My dreams have become very significant in my life these days; some of them seem to be very spiritual. Sometimes there is a message, and then at times there is help in a critical situation. I do not claim to be an interpreter of dreams because some dreams are completely meaningless to me. I believe that some people can receive important answers or insight into their life situations. I pray to my maker that I may grow in this area of my life, so that my dreams may become more clear to me, and my desire is to cultivate that spiritual side of my life for the benefit of the “Bear Clan” and myself. Some dreams have come to be reality, and have caused me to believe that predestination fits in here somewhere.

It is very common to hear stories about old men of various tribes throughout northern California who had dreams that the white man would one day appear on this continent. Most of these people died long before these dreams came to pass, but the rest of their tribes would recall what these old people told them concerning the dreams. 

So I will continue to write down some of them that have meaning to me as I explore this dream state.

As I sit incarcerated in Mendocino County Jail, I sometimes dwell on my dreams, and what stands out to me is that whenever I dream about my home in the hills on the Round Valley Indian Reservation, I keep getting closer and closer each time.

In one of my most current dreams I remember I was actually walking down Henderson Road which leads to Little Valley where my cabin is located. This road also leads to the scene of the shooting incident where Acorn was ambushed and murdered. I would have to pass by the scene of the incident first before I reach my cabin.

I remember in this dream I was walking down this same road, but this road appeared to no longer be used because there was tall grass, about five feet high. It covered what used to be the road, but now there was barely a foot trail. As I was walking, I began to look upon the hillside as I approached it, and there were many homes and also several tents. Some of the homes seemed to be government Indian houses, and the tents were kind of large. They reminded me of some type of work tents.

To see all these dwellings saddened me a little. It was such a big change to my homeland. It appeared that nothing would be the same I when I left the reservation. 

As I got closer to the hillside and the forest, the sadness began to fade away. I've always felt very grateful to my maker that I can still walk on paths in the hills that I walked when I was a child, especially the paths that haven't been affected much by civilization. I'm sure the paths that I have walked could be considered untamed to the civilized man, but these places have their own special beauty and freedom that is very unique to this native.

In this dream I had made it all the way to my cabin for the first time since my incarceration. The cabin was still the same. There didn't seem to be any changes that I could notice. I can't help but thing that I'm getting closer to my home.

A part of the changes that have taken place on the reservation has been with the Indian community. I believe many have been stirred within their hearts in a positive way. We definitely need more voices from the reservation to speak out on Native American issues.

Some of the changes in this dream I didn't like at all, like all the new houses on the hillside. But there has always been something on the reservation that I didn't agree with, like tribal politics or just family politics. But I have begun to realize that the world no longer revolves around Bear Lincoln. There was a time that I did — ha.

There appeared to be no change in my cabin in my dream. Perhaps I could relate that to myself, meaning I'm the same person now as I was before the spring of '95. Or at least that's what I keep telling people who ask me about the drastic change in circumstances in my life. I'm sure some growth has taken place. I only want to go forward, I want to become stronger spiritually, mentally and physically, and this has been happening with prayer and fasting. When a person is in a battle of life and death, you must prepare yourself; you will stand and make a good fight of it, or you will lay down and die, you will surrender, you will give up, you will submit!

When I think of the tall grass that had overtaken the road, I felt that was good. This grass was like new life; it was healthy, and excellent feed for my Appaloosas. I enjoyed walking through this high grass that came up to my chest. I would touch it as I walked along, and I could smell the freshness of this beautiful grass.

It was great to be free again. The feeling of freedom is very beautiful. I can understand why a person would fight for the right to be truly free.

Still a peaceful farmer...

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