For many, 2 Samuel 22 is a victory declaration—but read through an Anishinaabe heart, it is the story of someone who walked through darkness and discovered the Creator never abandoned them. In this moving reflection, Waubshki Migisi shares how Kitchi Manitou becomes our solid rock during life's fiercest storms, reminding us that true strength is found in letting the Spirit gather our broken pieces and make us whole again.

Long before there were churches or books, Kitchi Manitou was speaking through the mountains, rivers, forests, and eagles. In this beautiful reflection, Anishinaabe photographer Waubshki Migisi shares how creation carries the fingerprints of its Maker, and how a camera lens can become a witness to the deep spiritual teachings hidden right in front of us.

Every single morning, my eyes tell me the same story: "There's a deer lying beneath that tree." But as the morning light shifts, the deer disappears, revealing only an old, weathered burl. In this moving reflection, Waubshki Migisi shares how a daily trick of the light became a profound teaching from Kitchi Manitou—reminding us that the way we see the world reveals the true condition of our hearts.

Sometimes Kitchi Manitou gives us a teaching before we understand it. Step aboard the ferry from Victoria to Vancouver and walk through a November sunrise to discover how the Creator’s light awakens within our spirit.

Have we learned to discern with wisdom, or have we learned to react with fear? Reflecting on why traditional healing, acupuncture, and Indigenous ways of knowing are frequently dismissed as spiritually dangerous while Western medicine goes unquestioned, Elaine Kwandibens (Waubshki Migisi) challenges us to look past fear. Rooted in Anishinaabe teachings of balance and relationship, this post is a profound call to choose understanding over judgment and reclaim true spiritual discernment.

When a photograph captured the shadow of a hummingbird that wasn't there, it became a beautiful lesson in paying attention. Discover how the small, unseen signs in nature can guide us through our darkest seasons of change and grief.

If your spirit has been carrying heaviness, grief, confusion, or unseen burdens, know that you do not have to walk alone. I do not walk above anyone—only beside them, as someone who has also walked through storms and learned how to listen when Spirit speaks softly.

I was seeking belonging — not only to a place, but to myself as an Anishinaabe woman shaped by displacement, survival, and resilience. I continue to walk, carrying the teachings, trusting that home is still forming — in the land, in community, and within my own becoming.