Recollections of the Peyote Road
George Morgan
From Psychedelic Reflections, edited by
Lester Grinspoon and James B. Bakalar,
Harvard Medical School. ©Human Sciences Press, 1983
My thoughts about Peyote are closely interwoven with the
religious context of the Native American Church, the Peyote
religion of the American Indian. In my experiences with this
sacred plant, Indian Peyotists have been my companions. I am
grateful to them for their patience and understanding, and their
willingness to adopt me into their church. Peyote is considered a
holy medicine among members of the church; and it is used with
the utmost respect. The teachings of Peyote go beyond the
confines of the tipi; my experiences sitting by the sacred
fireplace have helped guide my daily life. Peyote ceremonies have
also allowed me the opportunity of being closely associated with
the Sioux, who are quite remote psychically and geographically
from the mainstream of American life—far more remote than
many of us realize.
Most Sioux Peyotists are full-bloods and traditionalists;
their great-grandfathers were buffalo hunters and warriors. They
live in the spacious beauty of a pine and prairie landscape, but
by our economic standards they are distressingly poor. As late as
the early 1970s many Indians in the Pine Ridge country were still
using kerosene lamps. They have retained their native language,
Lakota, and their knowledge of English is limited. Lakota is
spoken throughout the Peyote ceremony. At ceremonies someone has
often interpreted in English for me, but through the years I have
come to understand much of what is said; and much requires no
words.
I attended my first Peyote ceremony in 1964. That eventful
night in a tipi at Wounded Knee was the first of many meetings
and the beginning of my acculturation to the Indian way of life.
Although I was thirty-one in 1964, I was a child in the Peyote
religion. The Sioux have patiently watched me grow up in the
Peyote way, and in their eyes I am now a teenager of sixteen.
They liken their religion to a school; one peyotist has said:
"You learn in here just like at school; it is graded and
becomes easier the farther along you go. " In reference to
my learning, the same man said: "It is good that you are
starting now; you can always learn more from Peyote, but you will
never learn it all."
Peyotists at Pine Ridge constitute less than 2 percent of the
population (about 15,000 in 1980). The church membership is
growing from within because of an increase of children in Peyote
families, but the number of new members from outside these
families is negligible. The Peyote religion at Pine Ridge is like
a large family: almost everyone knows everyone else. Other
reservations have a much higher percentage of Peyotists: among
the Navajo of the Southwest, about 50 percent. Despite the Sioux
Peyotists' small numbers, they are famous among Peyotists of
other tribes, especially for their songs. Since the Peyote
religion is pan-Indian, members often attend meetings with other
tribes. At one meeting I attended, seven tribes were represented.
Thus for an Indian visiting the reservation of a tribe not his
own, the Native American Church is a home away from home.
Although the Peyote religion is definitely Indian, it includes
some vital Christian elements. Christianity has influenced the
pre-Columbian Peyote religion since the early sixteenth century,
when Spanish friars came to the New World. Peyotists know and
accept the Ten Commandments and the teachings of Jesus; at Peyote
meetings participants often recite the Lord's Prayer, sometimes
in English. Considerable time during ceremonies is devoted to
prayers. Indians are an intensely religious people; their prayers
to God and Jesus come to them easily and naturally. My prayers
are still a little awkward, although as a member of the Native
American Church I have had ample practice.
Next to the prayers, Peyote songs are the most important part
of the ceremony. As each person receives the prayer staff and
musical gourd (rattle), he holds the staff in his left hand and
shakes the gourd with his right. The drummer and other
participants often sing along. These chants, sung with
compassion, create a marvelous world of sound and meaning for
Peyotists like myself, engendering visions, hope, and peace. Some
peyote songs are prayer chants which praise the name of Jesus.
Peyote is often referred to as a sacrament; it is considered a
mediator between God-Jesus and Man.
At Pine Ridge there are two contrasting ceremonial rituals and
organizations of the Native American Church: the traditional
Half-moon ritual and a more Christian version known as the
Cross-fire. The Half-moon ritual is much older and commonly
occurs inter-tribally in the United States; the Cross-fire occurs
chiefly among the Sioux of South Dakota and the Winnebago of
Nebraska and Wisconsin. The leaders (roadmen) of the Cross-fire
group are bona fide ordained clergy who have been appointed by
the High Priest of the organization in the State of South Dakota.
As ordained clergy they are qualified to perform baptisms and
marriages.
In the Half-moon ceremony each participant rolls a prayer
cigarette, which is a surrogate for the peace pipe; sometimes the
Bull Durham tobacco is rolled in a corn shuck. In the Cross- fire
ritual prayer cigarettes are not used; the Bible, which is set
next to the Peyote sacrament and holy altar, replaces the smoke.
At certain times during the Cross-fire ceremony the roadman reads
aloud from the Bible and interprets readings to the congregation
.
Another difference between the two fireplaces is that, at
Half-moon meetings, each participant is allowed to help himself
to the sacrament (generally four spoons of Peyote) each time it
is passed clockwise around the tipi; at Cross-fire meetings a man
stands in front of the participants and hands each of them four
spoons at least the first time the sacrament is sent around. The
roadman decides how many times Peyote should be passed around,
usually three or four. It is sometimes used in powdered form, but
more often as a gravy; an infusion of Peyote tea is also passed.
Although individual members usually attend meetings (ceremonies)
with their own group, they also freely attend the other group's
meetings. Each group has its own cemetery. I like both rituals,
but I have been raised in the Half-moon and prefer it.
The Native American Church is decidedly nationalistic.
Military veterans are granted special honor. Since I am a
veteran, I have the privilege of folding the flag at ceremonies.
The official colors of the church are red, white, and blue,
colors which also appear in the beadwork of religious
paraphernalia; veterans have beadwork designs of the national
flag. At almost all locations where meetings take place there is
a flagpole; the flag is raised on Veterans Day and Memorial Day
and for the funeral or memorial of a member who was a veteran.
The nationalism of the church is partly attributable to its
pan-Indian organization; it also reflects the fact that the
government recognizes the Peyote religion and allows the Indians
to practice it freely. But the military character of the Native
American Church may also be a continuation of the old warrior
society, which retains high prestige among the Indians.
Women were formerly excluded from the ceremony, except for
Peyote Woman, the roadman's wife. She came into the tipi in the
morning, bringing morning food and water over which she prayed as
a symbol of Mother Earth. It was not until the 1950s that women
in general started attending Peyote ceremonies at Pine Ridge. One
reason for their original exclusion was the Indian taboo against
allowing women near any medicine during their menses. It is still
considered dangerous to the health and life of anyone taking
Indian medicine, such as Peyote, to be in proximity to a woman
who is menstruating or has just given birth; thus, women during
these times respectfully stay away from meetings. Recently, a
woman who had just had a child ignored warnings and entered a
Peyote meeting; all the men at the meeting became violently ill,
and many of them vomited.
Aside from these two prohibitions, Sioux women today not only
freely attend meetings, but sit next to their spouses and
sometimes even sing Peyote songs. Indian women of other tribes
also attend meetings, but they tend to sit together, and they do
not sing. Sioux women are liberated women compared with their
sisters of other tribes. Yet the Peyote ceremony still remains a
man's world; the political organization and the ceremonial are
run by men, and men predominate in numbers. Children accompany
their parents to Peyote ceremonies; the family worship is
healthy. Children begin to take medicine ritually when they
become teenagers.
There is no single reason that a person is drawn to the Peyote
religion. Some take refuge in the church as a last resort to cure
a sickness after the white man's medicine fails. Some start
attending meetings out of sheer curiosity, and some want to
escape the monotony of reservation life. Many come because they
have heard that the Native American Church is a place where one
can talk to God and feel His presence. They have heard that
Peyote can change minds, habits, and lives for the better, or
that Peyote can bring happiness to man in this life. The actions,
words, and morals of Peyotists themselves have been positive
living examples to the Indian people. Another attraction is the
close fellowship of Peyote meetings.
Members of the Native American Church do not proselytize, nor
do they criticize other churches or beliefs; they prefer to live
unnoticed. But some Indians object to Peyote, the ceremony, and
the people connected with it. A few of these critics are
traditionalists who follow the old peace pipe religion of their
grandfathers and see the Peyote religion as a foreign intrusion
from Mexico. The major diffusion center of the Peyote religion
was Oklahoma, and tribes such as the Kiowa and Comanche were its
major disseminators. It did not arrive at Pine Ridge until some
time between 1904 and 1912.
Some Sioux Peyotists participate in ancestral rituals with the
peace pipe, such as the vision quest and sun dance, but I know of
no traditional medicine man who has become a Peyotist. Indian
alcoholics are especially fearful and critical of Peyote. They
sneeringly refer to Peyotists as "cactus eaters. " One
alcoholic told me, in a malignant tone of voice, that Peyote was
"snake juice." One reason alcoholics tend to fear
Peyote is their knowledge that Peyote conquers the alcohol in a
person's body and pushes that poison out of his system; he would
thus suffer physically and mentally through an all-night
ceremony. But the alcoholic generally refuses to admit that his
recovery to sobriety and awareness may be the beginning of a new
life .
The Peyote road is the path chosen by members of the church.
In the imagery of some Peyotists, two roads diverge at a
junction. The profane road, paved and wide, with its worldly
passions and temptations, is considered to be an unholy road
which leads to trouble. The alternative is the Peyote road, a
narrow unpaved path surrounded by a wilderness of pristine
beauty. All Peyotists travel this way, but each must journey
alone, for it is the road of one's own life and wisdom. In the
Christian sense, it is the road to salvation. Ethically, it is a
path of sobriety (a major step for most Indians), industry, care
of the family, and brotherly love. Its symbol is a narrow groove
on top of a crescent-shaped earthen altar that encircles the west
end of the fireplace. Rather than a straight and narrow path, it
is a curved path all the way, but the curve on the crescent altar
is constant, never-varying, and so in a sense straight. The road
has not been easy for me, nor was it meant to be. Peyotists say
that up to the mid-mark of human life the Peyote road is uphill.
This is indicated by the earthen altar, which slopes up to the
center of the crescent, where the Peyote chief which is a
specially shaped Peyote plant placed on the altar by the leader
of the ceremony is set. To reach the downhill side of the Peyote
chief one has to go through (accept) Peyote, for it is considered
impossible to go around or over the sacred plant placed on top of
the altar. The downhill road symbolizes the latter half of one's
life, the easier half.
Those early years of my uphill journey were difficult because
of my preoccupation with death. This morbid obsession began when
I attended my third Peyote meeting. Several people present were
ill, and I feared the spread of disease by the communal sharing
of the spoon to eat Peyote and the cup to drink Peyote tea. Two
voices within me began to talk about my death, one stressing its
reality and the other constantly agreeing; the voice-exchange
continued until my awareness of death became intense. I had been
asleep to my death for thirty-one years; it now became an
intimate reality. At a meeting that I attended, a wise elderly
Peyotist said, "You can see yourself in this fireplace; you
can see what kind of man you are. If you accept what you see, you
will be all right and stay in this religion; if you don't accept
what you see, you will never come back. " More than one man
attending a meeting has thought himself attending his own
funeral; he believed that he saw his own body being brought into
the tipi instead of the morning food—the church became for
him a funeral parlor. After such an experience, he may or may not
want to return to the Peyote religion. That night I arrived at
the junction and chose the Peyote road, which included the risk
of sickness and the anguish of mental torment. Yet, in the sense
that "many are called, but few are chosen," Peyotists
say that "Peyote chooses you, you don't choose it."
After that traumatic night I was aware of death every day for
a period of about 3 years. It was not an absorbing fixation, but
it was a daily reminder, my Dark Night of the Soul. I was often
awakened to the image of a black whiplash across my back and the
words resounding in my ears: "You are some day going to
die." At a Peyote meeting, when I told the members of my
concern about death, one of the leaders stood up and said that I
was off to a good beginning in the Peyote way. During a meeting 3
years later I simply became aware that it was useless worrying
about the inevitable. To be uneasy is the original derivation of
the word disease; my anxiety and worry (uncertainty) about my
certain death was a disease. Perhaps there is in each of us a
level where the knowledge of our own death is so strange that it
comes as a shock.
The ceremonies not only exposed me to the unknown, but allowed
me an insight into Sioux psychology and culture, which is so
different from ours in many ways. Thanks to Peyote I have become
acquainted with the genius of the Sioux mind; it has been a
powerful catalyst in overcoming ethnocentric barriers. Peyote
magnified individual personalities and cultural differences in a
complementary manner, and showed what we all had in common as
human beings. During their meetings, which lasted from 12 to 15
hours, I respectfully followed the ceremonial rules of
conduct—the Indian way. The ingestion of Peyote helped us to
endure the all- night ceremony and the socializing during the
following day. Alone and decidedly outnumbered, I absorbed their
culture under the aegis and power of Peyote. Although each
meeting was a culture-shock to my nervous system, my
acculturation was gradual rather than abrupt; it was a slow
blood-transfusion of cultural transformation.
After attending several Peyote ceremonies I started noticing a
change in my mannerisms. Especially noticeable was a change in my
body movements and gestures; my way of speaking and voice quality
also altered. My sense of humor and values became more
recognizable among the Sioux than among people of my own culture.
Sometimes I found myself willingly imitating the Sioux men I most
admired; at other times I passively observed those same strong
personalities controlling my actions and mannerisms. More than
once during a ceremony I suddenly felt as though I had left my
body, passing into a person sitting across from me and looking
through his eyes at me. I have often wondered whether that person
simultaneously had the same experience, but Peyotists rarely
comment on their visions and appear uninterested when I tell them
of mine. They generally refrain from telling anyone what they
have learned, especially their deepest mystical experiences; they
say that Peyote teaches each person differently.
As the Peyote religion and the Sioux became more important in
my life, I began feeling more distant from my own culture, which
appeared increasingly shallow, meaningless, aggressively
acquisitive, and boastfully noisy. I was more comfortable with
the Indians, who are a quiet, refined, and soft-spoken people;
their slower pace of life was more restful to my mind, and their
subtle sense of humor, especially Peyote humor, was a joy.
Indians love to joke even when the joke is on them, but there is
no scorn in their joking. Peyote humor is partly a play on words,
especially English words which are relatively new to the Indian;
they enjoy the fact that many different English words have the
same sound, and that different-sounding words have the same
meaning.
At the close of a Peyote ceremony, an elderly Indian was
explaining the difference between the southern and northern
Arapahoe language. He used English words for his example:
"Where the southern Arapahoe would say 'match,' the northern
Arapahoe would say. . . ?" He couldn't think of the cognate
word, so a member looked up and said "lighter." Such
humor and laughter is encouraged after the ordeal of an all-night
ceremony. Often their humorous stories have a sober message; an
example is the tale of the "monkey in the fireplace,"
which warns against treating the ceremony as play. The story is
as follows: "No monkey business allowed in this fireplace,
but everything is in this fireplace, so the monkey must be in
there too. This engineer on the railroad had a monkey who watched
everything he did. The engineer stopped the train and went in the
depot to get a cup of coffee. When he heard the toot-toot
outside, he ran out and saw the monkey taking this train down the
track. Hey, this monkey was really having fun. He was driving the
train just like a man. He was really driving that train fast. He
missed the curve and the train went off the track, but the
monkey, he jumped out of the window and grabbed hold of a tree
and was saved. He watched the train go into the ditch."
We both laughed; then he became serious and said: "But
all the people and children on the train were killed. That's the
way the monkey is: if the man don't watch close, he will miss the
curve; the monkey, he's a monkey." Then this Indian Peyotist
slowly pointed to the fireplace and said: "That monkey will
kill you if you don't watch him; no monkey business allowed in
this fireplace." Symbolically, this story indicates that if
you are careless on the curve of the Peyote road, you will fall
from the altar and burn up in the fireplace.
Through Peyote I have acquired many Indian friends and adopted
relatives. In particular, I became quite close to my adopted
brother, Silas, an Omaha-Ponca Indian who lived among the Sioux
for many years. He was a leader of the Peyote ceremony, an
official of the church, and a man of great charm and spiritual
power. He was about 20 years older than I, a wiser brother.
Together, we spent much time visiting and attending Peyote
meetings. He had been raised in the Peyote tradition, and he
taught me much about that tradition and about the good life. For
instance, he taught me the need for humility before entering the
tipi to pray. To attend a meeting with a know-it-all attitude,
that of a "big shot," will usually cause suffering
throughout the night. He said: "Over there are some tall
weeds that are now bent by the cold. That's what Peyote can do to
a man who thinks he knows everything. Peyote will bend him down
and turn him inside out. " I have seen that happen since and
I know that his analogy was accurate.
Because of his vast experience and clear, quick mind, he was
always several steps ahead of me. I shall never forget that when
I told him I thought Peyote was good, his answer was: "You
say that Peyote is good; what's good about it?" No one has
satisfactorily answered his question. Once when Silas had a
ruptured hernia, a few Peyote boys helped him through to health.
They prayed, drummed, and sang through the night, and they
spoon-fed Silas about 150 Peyote. He was well by morning; the
ambulance returned to the hospital without him.
Silas told me of his vision when he ate that large amount of
Peyote: "Brother George, I had so much Peyote in me that
when I raised up from the bed the Peyote would come up my throat
to my mouth. While the boys were drumming and singing I suddenly
got out of bed opened the door and went outside; a short distance
from the house was a large hill. I walked to the hill and saw a
shiny new ladder going all the way to the top. I climbed the
ladder to the top of the hill. I looked around, everything up
there was so beautiful. The air was clean and fresh; there were
all kinds of pretty colored flowers. When I looked back to the
ladder it was old and broken; many rungs were missing. Since I
had no way of getting back down, I decided to enjoy where I was;
later I looked back at the ladder and it was once again a shiny
new ladder. I finally climbed down the ladder and walked back to
the house. The people in the house looked very sad. I walked up
to the bed and looked down at the man lying on the bed; he had
his eyes closed and looked rested. I saw that the man on the bed
was myself. I then lay down to rest. When I awoke my sickness was
gone. The large hill was a hill of Peyote, all those Peyote
represented my sins. The top of the hill was paradise."
Although Silas often ate large amounts of Peyote, he told me that
if a person is in the right spirit "just a taste of Peyote
on the tip of your tongue is enough. "
At meetings, Silas was a strict disciplinarian. At a house
meeting in winter I fell unconscious from the lack of oxygen. The
one-room log house was sealed airtight; it was crowded and
stuffy. There was no air circulation; the fireman had brought in
a large pan filled with live coals which further heated an
already hot room. Silas was sitting next to me. When I fell
unconscious, I dropped my pheasant-feathered fan on the floor. I
was revived about 10 minutes later. The first thing Silas said to
me was, "Pick up your fan!" A few minutes later I told
Silas that I believed the reason for my passing out was that the
live coals were eating up the oxygen. He agreed, but nothing was
done about it. Under the influence of Peyote, the loss of
consciousness was especially meaningful. I felt as though I had
died; the darkness of unconsciousness came before I realized what
was about to happen. I wondered whether death would be like that,
quicker than conscious thought. A tall, quiet Arapahoe man
revived me; I saw him clearly before I could hear any sound, and
it was about a minute before I could hear. I went outside in the
bitter cold to get some fresh air. The Arapahoe man walked up to
me and said: "You are doing all right in this Peyote way,
but don't be in a hurry; take your time. " Several days
later, a leader in the Peyote religion who had heard about my
fainting said: "I heard that Peyote finally caught up with
you."
I write of Silas in the past tense because he died in 1973.
Visiting his blood relations, the Omahas of eastern Nebraska, is
the closest I can come to being with him. In their eyes I am a
welcomed relative who has come home. Whenever I attend a Peyote
meeting, especially among his own people, he is close to me.
Although all tribes have essentially the same Peyote ritual,
there are variations which are highly important in the minds of
the Indians. Each tribe has its language and culture; each has
its own style; each has its own genius. At my first birthday
meeting among the Omahas, I said that since I was familiar with
the Sioux way, they could continue singing while I prayed with a
prayer cigarette during the main smoke. The Omahas looked
startled; the air seemed electrified by the cultural
transgression. After a silence which seemed to last an eternity,
Henry, the leader and my adopted nephew through Silas, said:
"Uncle George, we will pick up these instruments (musical
instruments) again when you are finished with your prayer; that's
the way we do it here, so that's the way it is going to be, Uncle
George."
Although I continued to live and work within my own culture,
my heart, spirit, and mind resided with the Peyote religion and
the Indians. Thus, I lived in two worlds—physically among my
own people, emotionally among the Indians. Living within an
hour's drive from the reservation allowed me easy access to the
source of my emotional life. Because of the increasing ease and
frequency with which I went back and forth, my image of the
reservation's entrance and exit was that of a swinging door. As I
felt an increasing need to be on the reservation, I began
attending more meetings and visiting more often. All of us
Peyotists needed emotional support as an integral part of group
solidarity and the fellowship of a community of seekers. The
social group using Peyote became as important to me as the plant
and its powers. Whatever their age, Peyotists are endearingly
called " Peyote boys . " They are a brotherhood of
seekers who are youthful in spirit and attitudes, in their
curiosity and willingness to learn.
As my cultural metamorphosis became less detectable to myself,
it became more obvious among friends and relatives of my own
culture. Yet I could never become fully Indian. A Peyotist made
this clear to me by saying: "This way helps us to become
more Indian and it helps you to be more like George Morgan.
" At first Peyote enabled me to see the Indians as I wanted
to see them: in an idealizing light. But eventually I learned
from Peyote that their culture had its own snags and
contradictions, and my view became more balanced. In time, Peyote
aided me in understanding and respecting my own culture. For
instance, Indians have a sharing culture; we do not. Peyote
helped me to understand the advantages and pitfalls of sharing.
Of course, any discerning mind might in time come to the same
understandings; one does become wiser with age. With Peyote too
it takes time to learn about life and cultural differences;
wisdom cannot be hurried .
By reconciling the opposed cultural values in my mind, I
diminished their hypnotic influence and escaped the clutching
grip of ethnicity. An identity crisis ended: the tenuous swinging
door vanished; I stepped out of both cultures and took a deep
breath of fresh air in a cultural void. I could now enjoy both
cultures, and I could move freely and safely through them. To
arrive at this point along the Peyote road took me years of
relentless effort .
The Peyote religion also advanced my formal education. One
morning as I sat by the sacred fireplace I felt an urgent desire
to journey to the land where Peyote grows and study the plant's
environment and trade channels. That impulse was prompted by
substantial price increases for the plant and occasional supply
shortages which troubled the Indians. My university training in
geography and plant ecology had prepared me to study the
biogeography and economic history of Peyote. As there was a gap
in the literature, I decided that this study would become my
doctoral dissertation, and I felt that the knowledge gained from
it would help Peyotists to secure a dependable supply in the
future. I spent several months over a period of 2 years in the
Texas brush country studying Peyote. I learned about the plant's
life cycle, habitat, growth rates, and geographic range past and
present. I also studied the history of Peyote trade between the Peyoteros
(a group of Spanish-American Peyote traders) and the Indians.
I sincerely believe that Peyote guided me in this study, for I
met no obstacles in seeking information about a delicate and
somewhat secretive subject. I also believe that Peyote protected
me from harm in the rattlesnake-infested thorn brushes. The
details of my study are too complicated to relate here, but the
thesis is of value in understanding the present problems of
Peyote supply and how they arose. If Indians make the effort, as
they surely will, there should be a dependable supply for their
needs in the future. In a strange way I feel as if Peyote
selected me to do that study, for other Peyotists with artistic
talent have been inspired through Peyote to paint religious
paintings connected with the ceremony; others have done beautiful
beadwork.
I would not casually suggest to anyone that he attend a Peyote
ceremony. It is difficult to sit through an all-night ceremony.
And Peyote is not easy to swallow: it is extremely bitter, even
to experienced Peyotists, and occasionally nauseating, especially
for beginners. A person of sincere intent would be welcome: it is
a church. He would find hospitality: Peyotists are courteous and
respectful. But it is well to remember that Peyote is not a
plaything; Peyotists say that "if you play around with
Peyote, it will turn around and start playing with you. "
The Native American Church is not for the curiosity seeker: it is
a serious religion.
The Peyote road has shown me many wonders, and I believe it is
the same for other Peyotists. I shall continue to follow that
adventurous path, that sublime way of life.