wîhkask

In my travels as a young man searching for meaning in my life I’d often go to ceremonies where I would sit with Elders, offering to help them with their work in exchange for knowledge. They would be happy to see me. In those days not many people wanted to learn. All the elders I’d meet would light a braid of what looked like common grass. I loved the sweet smell of the smoke and found comfort in it. In my language, nehiyowîwin, or Cree, I was told this was called wîhkask. Its meaning is derived from the two syllables; ‘wîhk’ which refers to a fragrant aroma, and ‘kask’ the actual strands of grass. It has a distinct fragrance when it is lit. At first it looks like common grass woven together in three strands to make a braid. However, under careful observation, wîhkask is identified by the purple and pink roots and long upper strands of grass that have a golden, green sheen to them. Once wîhkask shows itself to you it will become your friend for life. You will always find it when you look for it. I learned that wîhkask is one of the main incenses burned by the nêhiyowak, or Cree people at their various ceremonies.

These ceremonial gatherings would happen both indoors and outdoors depending on the season and also depending on the kind of ceremony. One time when I attended such a gathering at the Red Pheasant First Nation band hall, a young man walked toward me carrying a small cast iron frying pan with glowing embers from the fire outside the hall. As he approached, he fanned the embers with an eagle wing and then placed some shredded wîhkask on the embers. Sweet grass is also what I know it to be called. He, like me, was given a responsibility as oskapewis (apprentice), and this was one of the jobs he performed. This oskapewis stopped directly in front of me and fanned the smoke towards me. I accepted the invitation, and using my hands like the eagle wing, I fanned the smoke towards my head and other parts of my body. I remember feeling as though I’d entered into some place special. The fragrance made me feel welcome and very calm. I felt comforted and safe amongst people whom I’d just met. After the ceremony I felt energized. There was such a feeling of community, acceptance and unconditional love. This would be one place I know I’d return over and over again. It was as though I’d found and become part of their family. I realized that you don’t have to be related to be a part of something special. That’s spiritual to me.

‘miyahkasikan’ is another name for this plant which, when broken down, means two things; ‘having fragrance’ and ‘being grass/plant’. I learned that its role was to bring people into one mind as it journeys in a circular pattern around the band hall when a ceremony or spiritual gathering commenced. This was explained to me by John Moosomin, one of my first teachers and mentors. He would often say to me ‘go get the miyahkasikan’. This meant the plants that he’d picked all summer and he’d use for smudging or preparing a space. I’d fetch it and another ceremony would begin.

I was taught by my teacher and other nêhiyowak elders when and how I ought to pick this special and sacred plant ,wîhkask. The best time to harvest wîhkask is in July and throughout the summer. I learned from my elder when you pick wîhkask or any medicinal plants to be drug and alcohol free, as well as having a healthy and positive attitude. Giving thanks is necessary for taking some of wîhkask’s family members before you place your tobacco offering down on the earth. This must be done before harvesting it. wîhkask is animate, meaning it has its own spirit and can hear you. By acknowledging it and offering tobacco you are inviting wîhkask and its family to be part of your ceremony. It’s good to be specific in your request when asking for wîkask’s help.

I was told a story by one of my teachers/elders about a lost young man who had been wandering out in the grasslands. While lost, he became very tired from his arduous journey and laid down on some grass to rest. As he slept, the grass he was laying on spoke to him. “Use me Younger Brother, I am ‘wîhkask’, it said. “Use me to smudge your body and tell me what it is you need in your life”. wîhkask had gifted him with its teachings, the protocol and taboos. Upon awakening he was surrounded by the sweet and comforting smell of ‘wîhkask’ and all its family. He observed the protocol, picked some sweet grass and brought it home to his people. Some days, often at the most unexpected time when you are out walking, you will smell wîhkask on the prairie wind. Usually this happens when you need direction or help in your life.

ahow ekosi. Thank you.

©Joseph Naytowhow

(originally published for the Native Law Centre, University of Saskatchewan, 2020)