Native spirituality guides alcoholics path

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Ray Cardinal sits on the bench where he decided to end a life-time of self-destructive behavior. He remembers how he felt that day. And once again, he feels lonely.

It's been two years since that pivotal moment at Urban Manor, an Edmonton-based home for hard-to-house alcoholics and substances abusers. Cardinal, a Cree from Alberta's Saddle Lake Reserve, was suffering the effects of yet another disorienting hair spray hangover.

"I was literally sick and tired of living. I just let go and said 'You can have me whoever you are'. Then something inside me took over and said "Try it my way'."

He's sorry to say his experience wasn't more dramatic.

"I wish I could say I saw a ray of light or something," he says, laughing. "But I wouldn't want people to go looking for it." He hasn't had a drop since.

Cardinal's alcohol addiction began in his early teens. At 16, he suffered the first of what would become a series of alcohol-related accidents. He climbed into a car with his young cousin. both drunk, they went for a joy-ride which led to a high-speed police chase and ended with a devastating car accident. Cardinal's hip was permanently damaged; today, he depends on crutches to walk.

Drinking, he says, was a disease that affected him physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.

It overtook his ambitions. He was just short of credits needed to complete high school. He enrolled in two drafting courses- one at Southern Alberta Institute of Technology and the other at Keyano College in Fort McMurray - but left both incomplete.

Cardinal's not exactly sure why he drank. But he says he was continuously aware of how he wasn't a part of the "dominant society."

"When I grew up I had to deal with racism. Kids made fun of the color of my hair and my skin. I studied European history and I was taught my culture was a culture to be civilized." He felt this discrimination deprived him and his people of basic rights which include "belonging and security."

In his early 20s, he found himself in a common-law relationship and had a child, but found he couldn't handle family responsibilities. He hasn't seen his son, Jason Quinney, in five years.

Cardinal ended up on Edmonton streets, panhandling for money and pushing shopping carts up alleys to look for bottles to cart to the nearest depot.

If ever given warm clothes in the dead of winter, he'd take them to pawn shops. He was usually too intoxicated to feel the cold. When a passer-by offered him a warm lunch instead of money, he'd accept - but only out of respect. It wasn't food he wanted. He was too ill to have an appetite.

"My whole system would crave a drink and if I didn't get any, I'd either end up in hospital or a detox centre, Cardinal remembers. "Between 1980 and 1991, I spent most of my time either in jail or in hospitals with alcohol poisoning."

He often drank until he was unconscious and was checked into detox centres 37 times. His broken front teeth and scars from knife wounds speak to the unmerciful ways of urban street life. "I became a marginal man," he says.

Cardinal and his drinking friends, or "street family," would consume hair spray, vanilla extract and Lysol spray.

"They have a much higher percentage of alcohol. It would be cheaper for us to buy a $4 bottle of hair spray and water it down with a gallon of water."

But the flip side of these "cheaper" alcohol products is that they're extremely dangerous. They're not regulated for consumption. And they contain dangerously high concentrations of alcohol as well as chemicals that can poison the human body. Many of Cardinal's drinking buddies have died from alcohol poisoning.

Kenny Dumont, one of his closest friends, was one.

"When I met Kenny, I could see a lot of him in me," Cardinal says. "He had polio as a child. We both had physical handicaps."

To this day, Cardinal draws strength from Dumont, who supported him during the first stage of his sobriety.

"I'm glad for what you're doing with yourself, Ray" Dumont had said. "But with me, it's too late." Four months later, he died from alcohol-related diseases.

Staying sober was no easy task, Cardinal says. "I went cold turkey. But a few days later I went into withdrawal and became very scared and angry." He knew he needed medical attention so he checked himself into the Boyle-McCauley Health Clinic where he was nursed by a women he will likely never forget.

"Her name was Lois. She spoke to me with real feelings and caring," he says. having been a street person for so long, it was hard for him to trust.

Lois Jack says she distinctly remembers Cardinal checking into the clinic. "Ray's weight was dropping. He was retaining fluids. His gums were bleeding. He was having withdrawal seizures. These are all classic symptoms of alcohols. And he was scared. He knew that if he didn't change he wouldn't survive," she says.

Jack attributes Cardinal's success at staying sober to his "inner spirit."

"Both Ray's intelligence and his inner spirit are what pulled him through all of this," she says. "We just helped guide his path. We showed him things he could hold on to along the way." If the inner spirits of people like Ray can be woken, Jack says, they too can recover.

Today, instead of waking up wond4ring where he's going to get his next drink, Cardinal thanks the Creator for blessing him with another day. He also gives thanks o his father and his late mother for supporting him throughout his life.

My Creator kept me alive for a reason. I've gone back to my Native spirituality and I'm being directed through that." He's currently working with a men's healing circle at Edmonton's Boyle Street community services Co-op Ltd. and he goes regularly to traditional sweats.

As well, Cardinal attends a 12-stgep Alcoholics Anonymous program. "The 12th step is to help those who come looking for direction. I feel I have a responsibility to help urban Natives."

Contrary to what some professionals may recommend, Cardinal still visits Urbn Manor, He hasn't forgotten his past, nor has he forgotten his old friends, even if they were drinking buddies.

Susan Shaw, Urban Manor director, says it's not always easy for past residents who have chosen sobriety to return. "But Ray is welcome because he doesn't judge anyone. The residents here are very proud of him."

Cardinal says his lesson in life is best revealed in a story he heard one evening at a lecture.

A man stands by a river in front of a tall tree. Water begins to rise around him so he starts to climb the tree. He continues to climb, with the water rising around him, until he can't go any further. He sees a canoe floating towards him from the distance. But he doesn't reach for it. Three more canoes float past. He doesn't reach for any of them. The water keeps rising.

In the end the man drowns. And he asks the Creator - Why did you let me drown?" The Creator responds - "I sent you four canoes."

Ray Cardinal says he's convinced someone is taking care of him. but at the same time, he knows he has a responsibility to take part in his own destiny.