Seven Teachings, Fires and Generations
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The Seven Teachings
Alone in the stillness, the Creator dreamt of a world. From that dream came the Four Elements: Earth, Water, Fire, and Wind. Then followed the Four Directions—North, South, East, and West. Together, they formed the structure of all life.
The sun, moon, and stars were set in the sky to guide the cycles of day and night.
The plants were created to nourish the world and heal with medicine.
The animals—each with a sacred purpose—were sent to teach and provide.
The humans were given the responsibility to care for the Earth.
But before the humans were shaped, the Creator formed Wanabozho—a being made from the Four Sacred Elements, part spirit and part human. Wanabozho was sent to walk among all beings. He was given the task of naming the animals and plants, experiencing the struggles of being human, and carrying the teachings down to the people.
As time passed, the people began to forget the teachings.
They turned away, and the Earth fell out of harmony.
Seeing this, the Creator sent a great flood so that life could begin again.
The world was reborn—plants and animals returned.
The people were given another chance to live in harmony.
But still, they needed guidance.
So the Creator sent Seven Grandfathers, each carrying a Teaching: Courage, Truth, Honesty, Respect, Humility, Love, and Wisdom.
Each one was a gift—not rules, but relationships; ways of being. They were reminded that all things are related—and that balance comes through the teachings.
The Seven Fires
Seven Prophets appeared during times of great change; each lit a fire—representing a time in history. The Seven Fires tell the story of the Anishinaabe journey, the arrival of settlers, the loss of language and culture, and the powerful resurgence happening today.
The First Fire
A prophet came and told the Anishinaabe people to follow the sacred shell, the Miigis, which would guide them to a new homeland. Their journey would take them west through seven stopping places. They were told they would recognize the true land when they reached a place where “food grows on water.”
The Second Fire
Another prophet warned that the people would lose their way, becoming confused and forgetting the direction of the sacred shell. Yet, a child would be born with the light—someone who would help the people remember who they truly are.
The Third Fire
Finally, the people would reach the place where food grows on water. This would be a time of joy, stability, and cultural flourishing. The Anishinaabe would settle near the lakes, building their lodges and growing strong in language, medicine, and ceremony.
The Fourth Fire
A two-spirited prophet came with a warning: a light-skinned race would arrive across the great waters. The rivers would be poisoned, and the fish would no longer be safe to eat.
The Fifth Fire
A false promise would follow. The people would be urged to give up their old ways in exchange for survival. Some would accept this, believing they could take what was offered without losing themselves, but this path would lead to great sorrow and disconnection.
The Sixth Fire
Those who accepted the false promise would suffer, the sixth prophet said. Elders would no longer teach; people would grow sick; families would break apart; and children would forget who they are.
Sacred bundles and scrolls would be hidden away, kept safe until the time came for the people to remember.
The Seventh Fire
The final prophet was young and carried a light in his eyes. He said that during the Seventh Fire, new people would rise—people who would seek out the old ways and ask the Elders to teach them. Though some Elders would be afraid and some silent, the new people must remain strong in their search for truth.
At this time, humanity as a whole would face a choice: to continue down a path of destruction, disconnection and imbalance or to embrace peace, a world that honors the children. If the latter path is chosen, an Eighth Fire will burn—a fire of peace and unity.
The Seventh Generation
“It is sacred to remember our connection—to the generations before and to those yet to come.”
We are told to consider the impact of our actions seven generations into the future. This means thinking beyond today—beyond ourselves. The choices we make now will shape the world that our great-grandchildren inherit. We are also the Seventh Generation prophesied in the Fire Teachings—the ones who would rise up, reclaim the language, bring back the songs, the ceremonies, and the healing ways. These teachings are more than stories of the past; they are instructions for the future. They show us how we lost our way—and how we can return.
These teachings invite all people—of every background—to come together in this sacred circle.
The Missing Piece
In treatment and in early recovery, many report feeling like something is missing—like there’s a gap between addiction and recovery. Some feel like mainstream recovery programs fall short of making sense.
Methods like the 12 Steps work for most, but to others, they don't apply to their life and the problems they experience. There often is a missing piece. A lot of the lessons from the 12 Steps are valid and useful. There’s no negative outcome from learning acceptance or responsibility—it’s just sometimes framed in an outdated way. The book was written by two white gentlemen in the 1930s. It doesn’t always make sense because it doesn’t apply to our current problems. It also clashes with our understanding of the Creator and the spirit world. Both ways are similar and often run parallel, but they differ enough to be noticeable—especially when there’s a strong religious component.
Anishinaabe culture is more of a way of living than a strict way of being. Traditional culture is accepting of difference and prefers diversity of thought. Ojibwe tribes differ slightly, as do the Lakota—evidenced even in the alternate spellings: Dakota, Nakota. The ideas are the same but differ in small ways. They sound the same but are spelled differently.
We all get along nowadays because our cultures are close enough to mix together. We are no longer fighting against each other. We are now, as a whole, working together to take back our individual cultures. Ojibwe stay Ojibwe, but we now share a common bond with outside tribes. We work together to revitalize Indigenous culture as a whole, and then return to our individual tribes with that shared energy.
When we celebrate the warriors of the past and the leaders of the present, we bring together a shared sense of unity—because we know it’s a matter of survival. If we stay on the rez and stick to ourselves in the city, we will dwindle. But together, we hold each other up and keep our cultures alive—not by waiting to be saved, but by realizing we were spared to live another day. We live so we can help others stay alive, so we can take back our culture and our traditional way of being.
The obligation to do better and help the community is often a result of getting sober—especially in places like South Minneapolis, which celebrates the culture and has a cultural corridor in the heart of the community. Getting sober in this environment brings cultural pride and a sense of belonging. Getting sober on the reservation is also like this. When the culture is incorporated into a person's recovery, they not only experience holistic health but also feel a flame lit—a purpose given.
When we get better and see others suffer, we often dedicate our lives to helping them. The fight was not alive while drunk, but clear-minded, the dust settled and allowed us to see the full severity of our problems and their consequences. When we see clearly after a long period of blindness we witness a new world.
The Seventh Fire has been lit. We are meant to keep it alive, to continue to feed it until everyone is warmed—even in the darkest and coldest recesses of the streets.
This prophecy shifts the focus from just surviving to having a role in something bigger. It helps answer the question: Why am I here, and what am I healing for?