The Fifth World of Jubiliese Braverman
Prologue: The Hopi Bear Clan Prophecy
Bob Frissel, in his book, "Something In This Book is True…" (Frog Ltd.; Berkeley, California; 1997) relates a story told by Reverend David Young about an encounter in the 1950's.
While driving through a desert in the Southwest, Rev. Young picked up a remarkable Hopi Elder and soon the two began a long conversation about spiritual matters.
“I am White Feather, a Hopi of the ancient Bear Clan. In my long life I have traveled through this land, seeking out my brothers, and learning from them many things filled with wisdom. I have followed the sacred paths of my people, who inhabit the forests and many lakes in the east, the land of ice and long nights in the north, and the places of holy altars of stone built many years ago by my brothers' fathers in the south. From all these I have heard the stories of the past, and the prophecies of the future. Today, many of the prophecies have turned to stories, and few are left -- the past grows longer, and the future grows shorter.
And now White Feather is dying. His sons have all joined his ancestors, and soon he too shall be with them. But there is no one left, no one to recite and pass on the ancient wisdom. My people have tired of the old ways -- the great ceremonies that tell of our origins, of our emergence into the Fourth World, are almost all abandoned, forgotten, yet even this has been foretold.
The time grows short.
My people await Pahana, the lost White Brother [from the stars], as do all our brothers in the land. He will not be like the white men we know now, who are cruel and greedy. We were told of their coming long ago. But still we await Pahana.
He will bring with him the symbols, and the missing piece of that sacred tablet now kept by the elders, given to him when he left, that shall identify him as our True White Brother.
The Fourth World shall end soon, and the Fifth World will begin. This the elders everywhere know. The Signs over many years have been fulfilled, and so few are left.
This is the First Sign: We are told of the coming of the white-skinned men, like Pahana, but not living like Pahana -- men who took the land that was not theirs. And men who struck their enemies with thunder. [First sign of guns.]
This is the Second Sign: Our lands will see the coming of spinning wheels filled with voices. In his youth, my father saw this prophecy come true with his eyes -- the white men bringing their families in wagons across the prairies.
This is the Third Sign: A strange beast like a buffalo but with great long horns will overrun the land in large numbers. These, White Feather saw with his eyes - the coming of the white men's cattle.
This is the Fourth Sign: The land will be crossed by snakes of iron. [Railroad tracks]
This is the Fifth Sign: The land shall be crisscrossed by a giant spider's web. [Electric power and telephone lines]
This is the Sixth Sign: The land shall be crisscrossed with rivers of stone that make pictures in the sun. [Highways and their mirage-producing effects]
This is the Seventh Sign: You will hear of the sea turning black, and many living things dying because of it. [Oil spills in the ocean]
This is the Eighth Sign: You will see many youth, who wear their hair long like my people, come and join the tribal nations, to learn their ways and wisdom. ["Hippie Movement" of the 1960s]
And this is the Ninth and Last Sign: You will hear of a dwelling-place in the heavens, above the earth, that shall fall with a great crash. It will appear as a blue star. Very soon after this, the ceremonies of my people will cease. [The Ninth Sign was the U.S. Space Station Skylab, which fell to Earth in 1979. According to Australian eyewitnesses, it appeared to be burning blue.]
These are the Signs that great destruction is coming. The world shall rock to and fro. The white man will battle against other people in other lands -- with those who possessed the first light of wisdom [Israel?]. There will be many columns of smoke and fire such as White Feather has seen the white man make in the deserts not far from here. [Atomic Bomb] Only those which come will cause disease and a great dying. Many of my people, understanding the prophecies, shall be safe. Those who stay and live in the places of my people also shall be safe. Then there will be much to rebuild. And soon -- very soon afterward -- Pahana will return. He shall bring with him the dawn of the Fifth World. He shall plant the seeds of his wisdom in their hearts. Even now the seeds are being planted. These shall smooth the way to the Emergence into the Fifth World.
But White Feather shall not see it. I am old and dying. Perhaps you will see it. In time, in time....”
The old Indian fell silent. They had arrived at his destination, and Reverend David Young stopped to let him out of the car. They never met again. Reverend Young died in 1976, so he did not live to see the further fulfillment of this remarkable prophecy.
HOPI ELDERS SPEAK
"You have been telling the people that this is the Eleventh Hour. Now you must go back and tell the people that this is the Hour. And there are things to be considered:
Where are you living?
What are you doing?
What are your relationships?
Are you in right relation?
Where is your water?
Know your garden.
It is time to speak your Truth.
Create your community.
Be good to each other.
And do not look outside yourself for the leader.
This could be a good time!
There is a river flowing now very fast. It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid. They will try to hold on to the shore. They will feel they are being torn apart, and they will suffer greatly.
Know the river has its destination. The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above the water. See who is in there with you and celebrate.
At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally. Least of all, ourselves. For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey comes to a halt. The time of the lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves!
Banish the word struggle from your attitude and your vocabulary.
All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration. We are the ones we've been waiting for."
The Elders, Hopi Nation, Oraibi, Arizona – 2002
Source: Manataka American Indian Council
My eyelids are thick, heavy. They don’t want to open. I know I need to wake up, but the will isn’t yet there. I easily glide back into dream mode, hoping to capture whatever it was that was so intriguing. Enfolded in twinkling stars tossed like a fistful of sugar into the blackness for night candy, I drift and float over an aurora below, a swirling, draping, whorling, exquisitely personal production, utterly silent, magnificent greens, purples, reds… Smoke. The odor tickles my nostrils, putting my flight or fight system on high alert. The eyelids instantly comply.
Struggling to focus, I make an unsuccessful attempt to sit up. Any movement sets my head to a metronome throb. Everything is a blur. Holy crap, Dante, which circle of Hell is this? I try again and nearly faint from the raw pain. Okay, Jubiegirl, just lie here for a minute. Get a grip. Be patient. More smoke. I might not have time to ease into this. With enormous effort I manage to get up on one elbow, unable to stifle a yelp. I can’t even tell what’s hurt; pain is surging from all sides. My surroundings are an ocean of blear. I feel a softness wash over me; I am dimming. No! I will not pass out. There is no time. Forcing myself into reality, I will my eyes and senses awake, gritting my teeth against the fresh onslaught of agony. Breathe, damn it! Breathe!
Nearby objects begin to clear. I am on the ground, lying near a shallow trench, shovel a few feet away. The trench! Somehow I know I dug it, but can’t remember why. I am on the southeast side of a small hill covered with low, tortured bushes. Southeast? How the hell do I know this? Squinting mightily, I will the far surroundings to come into view. The smoke. It’s rising in columns from everywhere, only a slight breeze carrying the scent of it to where I am. Ranchlands and what used to be woods splay out like a wagon wheel from my hill. Trees torn up by their roots are scattered like deer corn. A couple of homesteads are leveled, their remains burning, wreckage of barns, fences, vehicles piled like driftwood against the base of another hill. No movement, no sound, just faint crackling from the fires, which is - mysteriously comforting.
I must still be dreaming. Low, dark clouds in the distance are quickly moving in. It is daylight, and by the position of the sun must be around 3:00 PM. Scanning the other horizon, my heart nearly stops. Holy Mother of us all. Encroaching clouds have not yet covered the huge planet taking up a third of the sky, red, surrounded by glowing dust. Above, an eerie whistling perks my ears and I look up to see a huge, glowing meteor streaking to ground on the ranchlands. As it hits, the jolting tremor sets off every wounded nerve in my body. I scream. The explosion sets off a massive fireball reaching toward heaven. Oh, God, just let me live through this. I will myself to not become hysterical, but can’t staunch the sobs. Oh, shit – I remember! This is the Hill Country. “I’m a Texas chick” I blubber aloud, “I will deal with this.” After crying enough to thoroughly put out all the fires, my body stills. I have to know what this is all about. Are you kidding me? In the midst of this terror, you’re curious? Prioritize! I gingerly begin, toe by toe, rib by screaming rib, assessing my physical damage.
--Jo VonBargen 2012