What is being Indian?

My daughter asked me about our nationality. I told her we are Native American, otherwise known as First Nations, otherwise known as Indian. Well, What tribe are we from she wanted to know. Trust that I had those same questions all my life. There is nothing new under the sun, Nothing. The best I could tell her was I don't quite know. I know from photos there are "brown" people. My dads maternal side originated from Oklahoma, and my grandmother on my mothers side spoke rarely of our gene pool. Some times she would state we were black foot indian. It was upon metaphysical experiences that I can proudly say, yes I am Indian. But what really is being Indian. It is not just a race, not just a color, not just a culture. It is in the soul. It is something that calls to your spirit, and most often ~ the Elders are what calls to you. I remember that day I first went to the Elders. I called them ancients at that time. I was in an ambulance being rushed to the hospital, and then was in the hospital. My mother was by my side. I love her for showing that to me. I love her for being there when I asked, and when I needed. But, I wasn't there. Not really, I had left to meet with the Elders. They are large beings. Human shaped, but much much bigger. I remember in my daily life I called them titans. But no, they were just really big. Like giants to us. There we three of them. Sitting in a room surrounded by books. Lots and lots of books. But these books were of course much bigger than our books. As were these beings. It looked like thousands and thousands of books. I wondered about the books, and I heard ~ these books are the entire history of everything. Everything, everywhere. They were stacked floor to ceiling, on shelfs and overflowing on a desk. The elders speak telepathically, no voice is needed. It is like things are just forced into your head. I felt pressure in my head with this, and then their words just flowed. I had a teaching I was receiving. Not only of long ago truths, and long ago history but a separate teaching, other than what was being sent into my head. I was standing in a hallway, to my right was a beautiful rainbow door, with rainbow flowers, and a rainbow doorstep. To my right, was a black spiral door. Dark and dull in appearance. I was asked to chose one door. I looked at the beautiful exquisite rainbow door, and then over to the dark dense spiral door. I reached for the doorknob and was pushing the door open, about to step through ~ when I returned abruptly to my waiting body in the emergency room. What door did I chose? I chose the dark dense spiral door. But why? Because it is not the beauty and awe of what is in appearance on the outside that matters. It matters what is felt with the heart. When choosing, the rainbow door with all its beauty and glamor was empty and cold inside. I knew this because I felt with my heart. Behind the dark, dense spiral door though ~ I felt LOVE, a lot of love. People laughing, I could now hear them, and I wanted that. I wanted to go where the love was. So I grabbed the handle, and was opening the door .... but just then, a force so much stronger than myself was whisking me away, forcefully back to where my body lay in the hospital bed. Upon awaking, I felt tears on the side of my face, I looked up and saw my mother standing there. She said welcome back! I asked her what she said to me, but she wouldn't tell me. I told her I wasn't here, and she said ~ I know. But she was glad I was back. I kinda was too. Kinda. I know I have much more things to do while here. A lot of growing in my spirit path. Mending family fences, healing physical and emotional hurts. Righting wrongs, and saving my bloodline from generational curses. Its alot. But I can handle it, I am well equipped. I am this families matriarch ~ and I am honored.