Showing posts with label Lakota way. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lakota way. Show all posts
Monday, May 28, 2012
Native Vision Quest & Family Camping
In honor of the humblecha (native vision quest) happening this weekend on the Sundance grounds here in Indiana, I have to share with you this special piece I wrote after attending one two years ago when I was pregnant.
I didn't make it out to the grounds this year - on my moon and not feeling up for the challenge of camping for only one night with my 18-month-old and 4 year old. My husband went solo instead, and managed to get two powerful sweats in and have some amazing discussions with the Sundance Chief.
Here is what happened when my family attended the humblecha two years ago.
I love camping as a family. I love reconnecting to nature, forgoing time-sucking technology, letting go of cleanliness standards, and just having fun in the moment with the ones I love. Sure, there are many down-sides of camping, but I always return with a glow that makes it all worth it.
The camping we do usually involves non-camp ground facilities, and our eclectic band of Saltcreek Sundancers. This Sundance community is a special group of friends mostly from Indiana, but also from Europe, Canada, and all over the US, who have gone to the week-long Sundance in Hoosier National Forest for the past 10 or so years.
This time we are down at the sacred Sundance grounds for a humblecha, native vision quest. Once of year, they allow people who are called to do so, to go up "on the hill" and stay alone for 2 - 4 days praying and looking for their vision. The Sundance chief guides them and looks after them. The people who go on the vision quest make special prayer ties and have done special preparations. It is a sacred rite, and their is a certain way to do it.
When we arrive at the Sundance grounds, it looks so strange. Normally, during the Sundance, we are welcomed by the red-shirted Sundance volunteer security peeps and look down onto a wide grassy-field dotted with parked cars. Bounding down the hill this time it is eerily quiet. Instead of tents popping out of the woods, and kids zipping along the grass, there is a deserted prairie-like field of waist high grass.
Like an iron buffalo (ha ha), our truck makes it through the grass, past the wood skeleton of the sundance arbor. Visions of the colorful Sundance tree with all fifty or so Sundancers circled around singing with all their hearts, seemingly haunt the arbor's sacred space left alone "to breathe" for the rest of the year.
Back within the safety of the forest, we see signs of people, and our Sundance friends welcome us with open arms. First order of business is to set up camp (thankfully avec big tent and queen mattress) and thankfully with a little help from our friends. And yes, hullelujah, there are two nice clean port-o-pots!
Next order of business is to get out the big drum, gather the singers, so we can sing the sacred Lakota songs for the ones who are up on the hill.
That is why we are here, to support those four people who are searching for direction and answers on their vision quest up on "the hill." The vision-questers have prepared for this weekend for many months, and the Sundance Chief has aided countless people (native and non-native) through this native rite.
Although the Chief has put the people on the hill in the sacred way, and has said many prayers and sung sacred songs for them, "the people" have come together now, with one voice, to call out more sacred songs. I like to think that our singing helps raise the vibration of the forest, and helps to call upon more spirits. I hope it helps the vision-questers to feel the love of our Sundance family and to bring their mind to a sacred place.
What I do know is that a half-hour into the singing, my little 2-year-old son is acting like he snuck a whole chocolate bar and washed it down with a can of (forbidden) cola. He is wired to say the least.
My son is familiar with the sacred songs from them being blasted from our stereo, or from last year's Sundance, first-hand at the sweats or ceremonies we have be to since he was in utero. He loves banging on our drums and belting out a stripped down song, "tunkashila wama tunkashila" over and over again.
When the drum came out, my son was mesmerized. There he was sitting along the other men around the big buffalo hide-drum holding special drumsticks, preparing and praying before they started to sing. My son, then stoic and serious, looked like a boy ready to take on the responsibility of being a man.
He didn't quite get to join in with the drumming, but sat on my lap taking it all in. He sat and and sat until he pulled me to my feet to join the other ladies dancing and singing. We stayed here dancing and singing until his little friend Teddy arrived and he went away (pulsating) to play.
In the evening, the Chief led a sweat for the 30 or so people who wanted to join. It was such an honor to be in a big sweat, full of experienced "walkers of the red road", and led by the Chief. Normally at the Sundance, the women and men sweat separately. For some reason, at our Sundance, the man are exponentially more experienced and trusted with more responsibilities than the women. The men dominate the dance. The women are humble, and tend to be pushed aside at our Dance. It is very obvious. So as a women, sweating with "the experienced" men was a definite treat.
And what a sweat it was! First we honored the rocks, and then honored our Chief. When we honored the four directions, and said the spirit invitation song. Then something extraordinary happened. The pitch dark sweat lodge was lit up with white spirit orbs, and lightening-bug-like spirit lights floated around the top of the lodge.
Rattles were rattling whizzing about
eagle-bone whistles sang
other-worldly-sounding bird songs started to sweetly chirp
a rush of air, a flapping of large wings
a unmistakable growling-hiss of cat that made your hairs stand on end
horse hoofs clack-clack-clacking
the walls of the tents shaking like someone was grabbing it from the top.
I am used to seeing these sorts of things in a lowampi ceremony done in a black room, but never have I heard of it happening in a sweat.
When you are in the sweat, it is like you are back in the womb, and in direct contact with the "invisible world", or the "great mystery" or the "divine" or whatever you want to call it. There is a shift that happens when you start the sweat, and its something that you can only feel in your bones and gut.
For me, things of this nature have always seemed real. I may have small moments of "is this for real!" but overall, experiencing it, seeing it, hearing it, feeling it and knowing the background of these people and the Chief, (who are not there to impress and make believers out of anyone), always leads me to the same conclusion. The things we heard and felt in the sweat sound silly put on paper. But it is the truth of what we experienced, or anyone, when you start to walk down the path of the "red road" that has any true medicine.
Beyond all the strange sights and sounds of the sweat (which acted to solidify that the spirits are in deed out there looking out for us), the sweat was a beautiful time for the Chief to give us guidance, and for us to pray for the people on the hill, and the people in our lives that needed help.
In our prayers out loud, I hear my husband say a little prayer for me and the baby inside of me, and the whole lodge meets his prayer with "a ho". As all the voices come together for that "a ho" it is like their voices help strengthen my husband's prayer, and it hits me like a lightening rod right through me. I am filled with so much love for my husband and appreciation of being involved in these native ways.
When it's my turn, I manage to squeak out my prayers, knowing the spirits are listening, and my community is sympathizing to my humble prayers in my small voice.
Three rounds done and it's not too hot in there, like the unbearable heat of some of the sweats. But I am pregnant, and worried about over-doing it, thereby harming the baby. Between rounds, I catch glimpses of my son sitting quietly in a camping chair in front of the fire. I know he is in good hands with Rachel, but I find my mind now overcome with worry that maybe she is tired and needs to leave, or feeling guilty for leaving her with three kids, or worried that my son will soon be upset. In order to put my women's mind at ease, I sneak out of the sweat before the last round, kissing the earth and saying mitakuye oyasin - all my relations - on my way out.
This is why I love my life and love camping so much.
In it's unrefined idealistic state (I say this because there is also lots of drama to go with it) I feel so blessed to feel like part of a community, and one that is trying to help others, pray for others, and to better themselves.
Camping to me is much more than going out in the woods with a tent. Camping to me and my family means it is a time to have fun and to reconnect with each other, with friends, with the earth, and with spirit.
Namaste ~ Wopila
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Sundance and The Loss of Ritual in Western Culture
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| Our marriage ceremony in the Sundance arbor |
This week, my household is packing up and getting ready for our family trip to the woods for a Lakota Sundance. It is a week long camping adventure my husband and I have been doing, apart or together, for about a decade. It is an important part of the year for us, perhaps the most important.
I always leave the Sundance feeling reconnected again- reconnected to myself, my family, to others, to nature, as well as to that "great mystery" out there. It has become like our yearly "tune up".
There are many native american tribes through out Canada and the USA that still surround the cottonwood tree for a Sundance, usually done around the time of the summer solstice. There is an intense preparation time to get ready for the ceremony, then it is a time of purification, prayer, healing and renewal for the participants.
It is a bit weird, I will say, to participate so deeply in something (to the point of being married) that is so outside of my own culture. I was brought up, and still identify with "western culture." I will never exchange my culture for the native american one, but I seek to learn from their ways and honor it as much as a full-blood Westerner can.
I have tremendous respect for the ways traditional people create opportunities to mark the seasons. I am fascinated by their use of ritual and ceremony. I have always felt the loss of the absence of this in Western culture.
Recently, I had the privileged of listening to a talk on the summer solstice by Storytime Yoga founder, Sydney Solis. In this talk she hit it home to me about the significance of ritual and the importance of celebrating the seasons. I have transcribed and edited her talk below:
Traditional peoples mark [the summer solstice] as a time of renewal. Western culture just keeps marching on like the past has happened, and marching on towards the future. But there is a eternal return, a continual cycle, and to mark it with ritual, such as with summer solstice time, creates a very powerful psychological shift.
In western culture we consume ideas. We do a lot of thinking and watching, but when you physically get out there and participate, when you move your body and dance and honor the life, when you eat together, then this conscious act becomes so powerful.
Traditional peoples would say, if you do not do a ritual, if you do not participate, then things go away. We see in our modern society extinction of animals, depletion of resources, depression, suicide. We have kind of of lost our way. Not to revert to old ways, but to find new ways to bring it into our current lives. We live in a sophisticated society that never going to be the old ways.
It is essential for humans to have connection and meaning in their lives. We are to identify ourselves with that mysterious force that moves in cycles, and we are to move in harmony with those cycles. Myths and rituals guide us to that inner world and depth of our being.
Old times, there was a season for everything, cycles, festivals for everything. Everything had a rhythm, and everyone participated and had a role. But our culture has alienated itself. We don't directly participate with nature, and therefore we are alienated from ourselves.
Our modern society has less nature and more technology. There is a mechanical loss of humanity, or soul.
[During the summer solstice time] focus on slowing down and enjoy life. Focus on the simplicity and beauty of nature to awaken inside.
Because everything that is on the outside level is within you as well. When we really connect to things, we begin to influence it. We live in harmony with it. And it becomes what we want it to become. We influence the outside.
Our dreams influence things, our positive thoughts influence. So does your joy and celebration when you honor things. You effect change.
About Sydney Solis:
Sydney has more than 375 hours of training in the Anusara tradition. She completed a 200-hour Anusara training with her teacher Bhakti and Level I teacher training with Anusara founder John Friend. She studied yoga therapy with senior Anusara teachers Jeanie Manchester and Anthony Bogart, Ashtanga yoga with Richard Freeman, and Yoga Nidra with SreeDevi Bringi.
Check out Sydney's site, www.storytimeyoga.com, to learn more about how you can find her award winning book: Storytime Yoga: Teaching Yoga to Children through Story, or subscribe to the Little Lotus Storytime Yoga Kids Club.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
House Haunting at Our House
I first noticed our "visitor" immediately after bringing home our new baby daughter. Like a nice wife, I decided to spend the first nights on the couch with the newborn baby. What I didn't realize was that I was being watched.
A month or so prior, I took a trip home to visit my mom. My husband went with my son and some friends to a special native sweat in Kentucky. They had a fun time, and stayed overnight at the host's house. The host happen to mention that they've had experiences at their house with a ghost. Apparently, the previous owners had a young daughter who had died a few years earlier.
Our friend Mike, a medicine man helper who is very attuned to the spirit world, said he felt the ghost's presence as soon as he stepped outside of the sweat that night. He spoke of feeling her sadness and isolation.
At one point on the way back from the sweat, my son threw a kicking and screaming tantrum until he looked up and stopped crying and laughed. "A pink bunny," he said. Mike and the others looked at each other and thought, uh oh.
"I think that little girl ghost followed us home," said my husband to me one night a few weeks after their trip to Kentucky. "Why," I asked. My husband spoke of hearing strange mischievous knocking sounds. "Oh," I said and didn't think twice about it. Besides, I was the stay-at-home mom who spent most of the time in the house, and I hadn't noticed a thing.
It wasn't until the middle of the night, while sleeping on the couch with my baby girl nestled at my side on the inside of the couch, that I realize my husband may be right.
The last couple nights, my daughter had slept on her boppy pillow at one end of thc couch, and when she woke up, I sleepily nursed her and then put her back on her pillow to sleep. By the middle of the third night, however, the baby has been a little fussy and I have been comforting her back to sleep as we lay on the couch together.
I am in that "in-between" state of half sleep/half wake when I sense a shadow enter the far side of the room and float towards us on the couch. I feel an energy take a hold of my baby and feel her (as clear as day) being lifted up in the air. My whole consciousness jumps awake and I instinctively send huge waves of peace and love to the shadow. I am able to wrestle the baby back to my arms.
I bolt upright, the baby stirs a little, and I put her back to sleep on her pillow where she finally falls into a deep sleep. I turn on all the lights, adrenalin pumping, hands quivering, and light some sage to purify the room.
I manage to calm myself down, trying to reflect on what just happened. I realize that it must of been a spirit or ghost that connected with us. The vibe wasn't bad, nor is it good, it is neutral. But none the less, it was scary. Although, it didn't take the baby away from me on a physical level, I felt the baby being taken from me on some sort of level. I feel sick revisiting that feeling over and over again. It felt as real and potent as if it was my husband lifting her up.
What gets me the most is that I have no control over this situation. Normally, I feel quite safe and secure locking doors, living in a safe place, to make sure strangers don't enter my house at night. But what in the world does one do to keep ghosts out? This is a whole new world for protective services.
As well, I don't like the idea of some ghost stealing my newborn daughter's spirit away! And what for? What are they doing to her? Are they being nice? I am supposed to protect her. I feel so heart-broken that I can't protect her. How many times has it picked her up without me knowing. So many unknowns. I am such a rational person, and I hate the mystery of it all. I start to think that the ghost is stealing her spirit away and then going to enter her body. I think about all I went through the last nine months carrying this little baby just to loose her. I start to think other crazy things too.
Thankfully, not long after, my husband gets up for work and asks why it smells like sage. I tell him to sit down and feel better after I tell him the story. He says that it probably was the little girl ghost, and that she probably just wanted to pick up the baby. Little girls like babies, he said, that is just what they do.
That makes me feel better, but I am still not liking the idea of a ghost in our house. All day I am a little uneasy about the whole thing. Around ten or eleven o'clock everyone is sleeping and I am on the couch again. The lights are dimmed as usual, and all the hairs on my body seem to stand on end. There is a "spooky vibe" to the whole room all of a sudden. I admit, I am totally spooked out. But I am an adult, and it is silly to be scared. Especially of a little girl ghost.
I start thinking about how sweet little girls are, and try to calm myself down. Then all the scenes from the movie "Exorcism" start to play in my head and I turn to the only thing I know for protection. Softly, out load, I start to pray. I pray to Buddha, the enlightened ones, to Tunkashila, the Great Spirit, Grandmother earth, my guardian angels. I ask them to look out for us, especially to protect my new daughter. My prayer last about a minute, and I finish off with "mitakuye oyasin," the dimmed lights turn up an obvious notch.
That is it. Enough of this toughing it out crap. I stand up and go into my bedroom where my husband is sleeping. He senses my entry and half awakes. I stand there like a scared little girl, and whine, "I'm scared." I tell him what happens, and he says to just sleep in the bed. I grab my daughter and happily sleep next to my husband, baby in the middle. My husband has more experience and confidence in the spirit world than I do, so I am feeling much better.
In bed, it takes me a while to fall asleep. The walls creak, and the tv cracks from time to time. It is not usually this noisy I think. But I am confident that it's just my imagination. My husband wakes up after a load crack a couple times but falls back to sleep quickly. In the middle of the night I wake up and have to go to the bathroom. Hesitantly, I leave the room, and happily note that the energy of the living room is now perfectly fine. No ghost vibes. I fall back to sleep fast.
When my husband and I talk again that evening about it, he mentions that he heard a lot of noise, like creaking and cracking, after I came to bed. I heard it too but it seemed like just the house being a house. No, he said, I was in that "in-between" state and it was intense. He tells me that the little girl was in a wheelchair, and that she probably was still in her wheelchair in her ghost form. "It sounded like she was trying to get into our [small] room but her wheelchair kept hitting against things," he confessed to me. Great, just great, I think.
A week goes by and I learn to fall asleep really fast and not to think about things too much. Until one night, for some reason my daughter and I are sleeping at the foot of the bed together, which happens to be the side closest to the door. Again, I feel the baby being lifted from me. This time I scream my husband's name, but my eyes are closed and I feel more like I am trapped in a dream state. I become a wild women with my screaming and eventually I wake up out of it.
Another week goes by and my husband is talking to Mike on the phone about what to do with the ghost. Mike wants to come to the house and do a ceremony to invoke his helper spirits and other enlightened spirits to come and help "Terry", the ghost, cross over.
That night, after the phone call, my husband is watching television with my daughter fast asleep on the couch wrapped up in blankets on her pillow. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the baby flip forward off the couch, pillowing falling on top of her. Luckily, bundled as she was, the baby is fine, and barely stirs.
There was no way for the baby to have fallen off the couch. He said it looked like someone hit the pillow causing it to flip off. He figures, Terry overheard the conversation about trying to get rid of her, and like a little girl, acted out.
"Not cool," I think. No one hurts my baby. Get Mike over here now!
Thankfully Mike does come. He fills his crow pipe, and we all sit down in a circle. He says he senses her presence. There is a chair there for Terry to sit and join us. Mike starts by talking to Terry. He says that he is here to help her, and not to be afraid. This isn't about us wanting to kick her out, but it is about helping her get to where she needs to be. He knows that she is sad, and feels trapped. He understands why she has followed us to this house.
Apparently, Terry's parents were not very nice. The neighbors admitted to finding dead animals, carcases all over their property. Mike thinks that the animal spirits of that land were mad, and could of put a curse on the family for disrespecting the animals.
When Terry saw Mike, my son and the other visitors having childish fun at her house, it was probably the first kid she has seen. She liked their light energy and followed them home.
"I want you to have the experience of becoming a mother yourself," says Mike. "I know you want to, but it is not okay for you to go and pick up the baby." We are here to help. He tells her to please follow the spirit helpers and go to the light. It is a beautiful place, and people who know will meet you there. That is where you need to go in order to be all you can be.
Mike invites her to sit on the chair and be with us, however he senses she is hiding somewhere in the house. He takes the sage bowl and smudges off the house looking for her. He says he finds her hiding in a corner in my son's room.
Back in the circle, he starts to sing sacred Lakota songs which invites in his spirit helpers and tunkashilas. We all take turn saying prayers. We all say that we love her and want to help her. We don't want her to think we are kicking her out. We are not. We are trying to help her cross. Mike also has special protective tobacco we smokes on us to help protect us all.
After, he says, he cannot feel her anymore. He thinks she may have run away. He goes around the house looking for her. He says he doesn't feel her. I don't know exactly how things work, he says, but he hopes the spirits have grabbed her and taken her back. And I hope so too.
And that was that. He leaves us to wait and see.
I hate this not knowing. I am a bit scared of her. If she flipped a pillow then, what will she do to us now? Oh God oh God...
So far so good though...
A month or so prior, I took a trip home to visit my mom. My husband went with my son and some friends to a special native sweat in Kentucky. They had a fun time, and stayed overnight at the host's house. The host happen to mention that they've had experiences at their house with a ghost. Apparently, the previous owners had a young daughter who had died a few years earlier.
Our friend Mike, a medicine man helper who is very attuned to the spirit world, said he felt the ghost's presence as soon as he stepped outside of the sweat that night. He spoke of feeling her sadness and isolation.
At one point on the way back from the sweat, my son threw a kicking and screaming tantrum until he looked up and stopped crying and laughed. "A pink bunny," he said. Mike and the others looked at each other and thought, uh oh.
"I think that little girl ghost followed us home," said my husband to me one night a few weeks after their trip to Kentucky. "Why," I asked. My husband spoke of hearing strange mischievous knocking sounds. "Oh," I said and didn't think twice about it. Besides, I was the stay-at-home mom who spent most of the time in the house, and I hadn't noticed a thing.
It wasn't until the middle of the night, while sleeping on the couch with my baby girl nestled at my side on the inside of the couch, that I realize my husband may be right.
The last couple nights, my daughter had slept on her boppy pillow at one end of thc couch, and when she woke up, I sleepily nursed her and then put her back on her pillow to sleep. By the middle of the third night, however, the baby has been a little fussy and I have been comforting her back to sleep as we lay on the couch together.
I am in that "in-between" state of half sleep/half wake when I sense a shadow enter the far side of the room and float towards us on the couch. I feel an energy take a hold of my baby and feel her (as clear as day) being lifted up in the air. My whole consciousness jumps awake and I instinctively send huge waves of peace and love to the shadow. I am able to wrestle the baby back to my arms.
I bolt upright, the baby stirs a little, and I put her back to sleep on her pillow where she finally falls into a deep sleep. I turn on all the lights, adrenalin pumping, hands quivering, and light some sage to purify the room.
I manage to calm myself down, trying to reflect on what just happened. I realize that it must of been a spirit or ghost that connected with us. The vibe wasn't bad, nor is it good, it is neutral. But none the less, it was scary. Although, it didn't take the baby away from me on a physical level, I felt the baby being taken from me on some sort of level. I feel sick revisiting that feeling over and over again. It felt as real and potent as if it was my husband lifting her up.
What gets me the most is that I have no control over this situation. Normally, I feel quite safe and secure locking doors, living in a safe place, to make sure strangers don't enter my house at night. But what in the world does one do to keep ghosts out? This is a whole new world for protective services.
As well, I don't like the idea of some ghost stealing my newborn daughter's spirit away! And what for? What are they doing to her? Are they being nice? I am supposed to protect her. I feel so heart-broken that I can't protect her. How many times has it picked her up without me knowing. So many unknowns. I am such a rational person, and I hate the mystery of it all. I start to think that the ghost is stealing her spirit away and then going to enter her body. I think about all I went through the last nine months carrying this little baby just to loose her. I start to think other crazy things too.
Thankfully, not long after, my husband gets up for work and asks why it smells like sage. I tell him to sit down and feel better after I tell him the story. He says that it probably was the little girl ghost, and that she probably just wanted to pick up the baby. Little girls like babies, he said, that is just what they do.
That makes me feel better, but I am still not liking the idea of a ghost in our house. All day I am a little uneasy about the whole thing. Around ten or eleven o'clock everyone is sleeping and I am on the couch again. The lights are dimmed as usual, and all the hairs on my body seem to stand on end. There is a "spooky vibe" to the whole room all of a sudden. I admit, I am totally spooked out. But I am an adult, and it is silly to be scared. Especially of a little girl ghost.
I start thinking about how sweet little girls are, and try to calm myself down. Then all the scenes from the movie "Exorcism" start to play in my head and I turn to the only thing I know for protection. Softly, out load, I start to pray. I pray to Buddha, the enlightened ones, to Tunkashila, the Great Spirit, Grandmother earth, my guardian angels. I ask them to look out for us, especially to protect my new daughter. My prayer last about a minute, and I finish off with "mitakuye oyasin," the dimmed lights turn up an obvious notch.
That is it. Enough of this toughing it out crap. I stand up and go into my bedroom where my husband is sleeping. He senses my entry and half awakes. I stand there like a scared little girl, and whine, "I'm scared." I tell him what happens, and he says to just sleep in the bed. I grab my daughter and happily sleep next to my husband, baby in the middle. My husband has more experience and confidence in the spirit world than I do, so I am feeling much better.
In bed, it takes me a while to fall asleep. The walls creak, and the tv cracks from time to time. It is not usually this noisy I think. But I am confident that it's just my imagination. My husband wakes up after a load crack a couple times but falls back to sleep quickly. In the middle of the night I wake up and have to go to the bathroom. Hesitantly, I leave the room, and happily note that the energy of the living room is now perfectly fine. No ghost vibes. I fall back to sleep fast.
When my husband and I talk again that evening about it, he mentions that he heard a lot of noise, like creaking and cracking, after I came to bed. I heard it too but it seemed like just the house being a house. No, he said, I was in that "in-between" state and it was intense. He tells me that the little girl was in a wheelchair, and that she probably was still in her wheelchair in her ghost form. "It sounded like she was trying to get into our [small] room but her wheelchair kept hitting against things," he confessed to me. Great, just great, I think.
A week goes by and I learn to fall asleep really fast and not to think about things too much. Until one night, for some reason my daughter and I are sleeping at the foot of the bed together, which happens to be the side closest to the door. Again, I feel the baby being lifted from me. This time I scream my husband's name, but my eyes are closed and I feel more like I am trapped in a dream state. I become a wild women with my screaming and eventually I wake up out of it.
Another week goes by and my husband is talking to Mike on the phone about what to do with the ghost. Mike wants to come to the house and do a ceremony to invoke his helper spirits and other enlightened spirits to come and help "Terry", the ghost, cross over.
That night, after the phone call, my husband is watching television with my daughter fast asleep on the couch wrapped up in blankets on her pillow. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the baby flip forward off the couch, pillowing falling on top of her. Luckily, bundled as she was, the baby is fine, and barely stirs.
There was no way for the baby to have fallen off the couch. He said it looked like someone hit the pillow causing it to flip off. He figures, Terry overheard the conversation about trying to get rid of her, and like a little girl, acted out.
"Not cool," I think. No one hurts my baby. Get Mike over here now!
Thankfully Mike does come. He fills his crow pipe, and we all sit down in a circle. He says he senses her presence. There is a chair there for Terry to sit and join us. Mike starts by talking to Terry. He says that he is here to help her, and not to be afraid. This isn't about us wanting to kick her out, but it is about helping her get to where she needs to be. He knows that she is sad, and feels trapped. He understands why she has followed us to this house.
Apparently, Terry's parents were not very nice. The neighbors admitted to finding dead animals, carcases all over their property. Mike thinks that the animal spirits of that land were mad, and could of put a curse on the family for disrespecting the animals.
When Terry saw Mike, my son and the other visitors having childish fun at her house, it was probably the first kid she has seen. She liked their light energy and followed them home.
"I want you to have the experience of becoming a mother yourself," says Mike. "I know you want to, but it is not okay for you to go and pick up the baby." We are here to help. He tells her to please follow the spirit helpers and go to the light. It is a beautiful place, and people who know will meet you there. That is where you need to go in order to be all you can be.
Mike invites her to sit on the chair and be with us, however he senses she is hiding somewhere in the house. He takes the sage bowl and smudges off the house looking for her. He says he finds her hiding in a corner in my son's room.
Back in the circle, he starts to sing sacred Lakota songs which invites in his spirit helpers and tunkashilas. We all take turn saying prayers. We all say that we love her and want to help her. We don't want her to think we are kicking her out. We are not. We are trying to help her cross. Mike also has special protective tobacco we smokes on us to help protect us all.
After, he says, he cannot feel her anymore. He thinks she may have run away. He goes around the house looking for her. He says he doesn't feel her. I don't know exactly how things work, he says, but he hopes the spirits have grabbed her and taken her back. And I hope so too.
And that was that. He leaves us to wait and see.
I hate this not knowing. I am a bit scared of her. If she flipped a pillow then, what will she do to us now? Oh God oh God...
So far so good though...
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Is it possible to respect someone being disrespectful?
This is a question that comes from my friend's Facebook post. It is so easy to judge others, especially when they seem so ignorant and disrespectful. But as Steve, the Sundance Chief explains, it is of utmost importance to respect others. It is how we become better people.
I was just in a sweat a week ago, and the Saltcreek Sundance Chief/Medicine man talked a bit about what it means to have respect for others. He said, all people, animals, plants and the earth should be shown respect. This is how we create a more beautiful and sacred world. And also how we grow as individuals.
He said, if you look at the word respect, it doesn't necessarily mean to honor or hold in high esteem. It also means to look at attentively, observe closely, or show differential regard for. So to respect something/someone, you first need to pay attention to it, acknowledge it for what it really is. With pure mind, you do not need to judge. Instead you see it for what it is.
Each and every person in this world deserves respect. You may not hold them or their actions in high esteem. But, as I see it, you respect that they are a fellow human being on this earth, who has lived a certain life with certain life experiences which made them who they are today. You respect that they live by certain rules and a moral code that they deem important and appropriate for them. Yes, they may be misguided, and act disrespectfully, but that is their choice, and perhaps they didn't have as great as karma/teachers/experiences to teach them otherwise.
The Chief talked about respecting his ancestors, and appreciating the lives they lived, and the medicine, the teachings they gave us, and "native ways" that they passed down. But that many of their actions he doesn't hold in high esteem. He has learned from his ancestors mistakes, and vows never to repeat their mistakes. He gives them utmost regard in his daily life, and shows so much respect for his ancestors because he knows what the full meaning of what paying respect means.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Our Camping Commune
I love that we go camping as a family. I love reconnecting to nature, forgoing time-sucking technology, letting go of cleanliness standards, and just having fun in the moment with the ones I love. Sure. there are many down-sides of camping, (like a whole morning spent packing, the piles of laundry, the bugs, the rain, the sleeping arrangements...) but I always return with a glow that makes it all worth it.
What I love the most about when we camp is that it is more than just my family and me camping along-side anonymous neighbours. The camping we do usually involves non-camp ground facilities, and our eclectic band of Saltcreek Sundancers. This Sundance community is a special group of friends mostly from Indiana, but also from Europe, Canada, and all over the US, who have gone to the week-long Sundance in Hoosier National Forest for the past 10 or so years.
When we go camping, I usually don't know all of the details: "What do you mean we can't take the big tent with the queen blow up mattress? Oh we are portaging across the lake. It's the day of, why are you telling me this now?" Or today I ask myself, "will there be toilets?" (no one else will know, so why waste my breath.)
This time, we were camping at the Sundance grounds off-season. The grounds are in a special place of the national forest, and is protected by the National Forest Service (NFS). The NFS has kindly granted permission for this site to be used for the Saltcreek Sundance, and related special events, but otherwise (I believe) it is not allowed for any other use.
When we arrive at the grounds, normally we are welcomed by the red-shirted Sundance volunteer security peeps and look down onto a wide grassy-field dotted with parked cars. Bounding down the hill this time it is eerily quiet. Instead of tents popping out of the woods, and kids zipping along the grass, there is a deserted prairie-like field of waist high grass.
Like an iron buffalo (ha ha), our truck makes it through the grass, past the wood skeleton of the sundance arbor. Visions of the colorful Sundance tree with all fifty or so Sundancers circled around singing with all their hearts, seemingly haunt the arbor's sacred space left alone "to breathe" for the rest of the year.
Back within the safety of the forest, we see signs of people, and our Sundance friends welcome us with open arms. First order of business is to set up camp (thankfully avec big tent and queen mattress) and thankfully with a little help from our friends. And yes, hullelujah, there are two nice clean port-o-pots!
Next order of business is to get out the big drum, gather the singers, so we can sing the sacred Lakota songs for the ones who are up on the hill.
That is why we are here, to support those four people who are searching for direction and answers on their vision quest up on "the hill." The vision-questers have prepared for this weekend for many months, and the Sundance Chief has aided countless people (native and non-native) through this native rite.
Although the Chief has put the people on the hill in the sacred way, and has said many prayers and sung sacred songs for them, "the people" have come together now, with one voice, to call out more sacred songs. I like to think that our singing helps raise the vibration of the forest, and helps to call upon more spirits. I hope it helps the vision-questers to feel the love of our Sundance family and to bring their mind to a sacred place.
What I do know is that a half-hour into the singing, my little 2-year-old son is acting like he snuck a whole chocolate bar and washed it down with a can of (forbidden) cola. He is wired to say the least.
My son is familiar with the sacred songs from them being blasted from our stereo, or from last year's Sundance, first-hand at the sweats or ceremonies we have be to since he was in utero. He loves banging on our drums and belting out a striped down song, "tunkashila wama tunkashila" over and over again.
When the drum came out, my son was mesmerized. There he was sitting along the other men around the big buffalo hide-drum holding special drumsticks, preparing and praying before they started to sing. My son, then stoic and serious, looked like a boy ready to take on the responsibility of being a man.
He didn't quite get to join in with the drumming, but sat on my lap taking it all in. He sat and and sat until he pulled me to my feet to join the other ladies dancing and singing. We stayed here dancing and singing until his little friend Teddy arrived and he went away (pulsating) to play.
In the evening, the Chief led a sweat for the 30 or so people who wanted to join. It was such an honor to be in a big sweat, full of experienced "walkers of the red road", and led by the Chief. Normally at the Sundance, the women and men sweat separately. For some reason, at our Sundance, the man are exponentially more experienced and trusted with more responsibilities than the women. The men dominate the dance. The women are humble, and tend to be pushed aside at our Dance. It is very obvious. So as a women, sweating with "the experienced" men was a definite treat.
And what a sweat it was! First we honored the rocks, and then honored our Chief. When we honored the four directions, and said the spirit invitation song, something extraordinary happened. The pitch dark sweat lodge was lit up with white spirit orbs, and lightening-bug-like spirit lights floated around the top of the lodge.
Rattles were rattling whizzing about
eagle-bone whistles sang
other-worldly-sounding bird songs started to sweetly chirp
a rush of air, a flapping of large wings
a unmistakable growling-hiss of cat that made your hairs stand on end
horse hoofs clack-clack-clacking
the walls of the tents shaking like someone was grabbing it from the top.
I am used to seeing these sorts of things in a lowampi ceremony done in a black room, but never have I heard of it happening in a sweat.
What I love the most about when we camp is that it is more than just my family and me camping along-side anonymous neighbours. The camping we do usually involves non-camp ground facilities, and our eclectic band of Saltcreek Sundancers. This Sundance community is a special group of friends mostly from Indiana, but also from Europe, Canada, and all over the US, who have gone to the week-long Sundance in Hoosier National Forest for the past 10 or so years.
When we go camping, I usually don't know all of the details: "What do you mean we can't take the big tent with the queen blow up mattress? Oh we are portaging across the lake. It's the day of, why are you telling me this now?" Or today I ask myself, "will there be toilets?" (no one else will know, so why waste my breath.)
This time, we were camping at the Sundance grounds off-season. The grounds are in a special place of the national forest, and is protected by the National Forest Service (NFS). The NFS has kindly granted permission for this site to be used for the Saltcreek Sundance, and related special events, but otherwise (I believe) it is not allowed for any other use.
When we arrive at the grounds, normally we are welcomed by the red-shirted Sundance volunteer security peeps and look down onto a wide grassy-field dotted with parked cars. Bounding down the hill this time it is eerily quiet. Instead of tents popping out of the woods, and kids zipping along the grass, there is a deserted prairie-like field of waist high grass.
Like an iron buffalo (ha ha), our truck makes it through the grass, past the wood skeleton of the sundance arbor. Visions of the colorful Sundance tree with all fifty or so Sundancers circled around singing with all their hearts, seemingly haunt the arbor's sacred space left alone "to breathe" for the rest of the year.
Back within the safety of the forest, we see signs of people, and our Sundance friends welcome us with open arms. First order of business is to set up camp (thankfully avec big tent and queen mattress) and thankfully with a little help from our friends. And yes, hullelujah, there are two nice clean port-o-pots!
Next order of business is to get out the big drum, gather the singers, so we can sing the sacred Lakota songs for the ones who are up on the hill.
That is why we are here, to support those four people who are searching for direction and answers on their vision quest up on "the hill." The vision-questers have prepared for this weekend for many months, and the Sundance Chief has aided countless people (native and non-native) through this native rite.
Although the Chief has put the people on the hill in the sacred way, and has said many prayers and sung sacred songs for them, "the people" have come together now, with one voice, to call out more sacred songs. I like to think that our singing helps raise the vibration of the forest, and helps to call upon more spirits. I hope it helps the vision-questers to feel the love of our Sundance family and to bring their mind to a sacred place.
What I do know is that a half-hour into the singing, my little 2-year-old son is acting like he snuck a whole chocolate bar and washed it down with a can of (forbidden) cola. He is wired to say the least.
My son is familiar with the sacred songs from them being blasted from our stereo, or from last year's Sundance, first-hand at the sweats or ceremonies we have be to since he was in utero. He loves banging on our drums and belting out a striped down song, "tunkashila wama tunkashila" over and over again.
When the drum came out, my son was mesmerized. There he was sitting along the other men around the big buffalo hide-drum holding special drumsticks, preparing and praying before they started to sing. My son, then stoic and serious, looked like a boy ready to take on the responsibility of being a man.
He didn't quite get to join in with the drumming, but sat on my lap taking it all in. He sat and and sat until he pulled me to my feet to join the other ladies dancing and singing. We stayed here dancing and singing until his little friend Teddy arrived and he went away (pulsating) to play.
In the evening, the Chief led a sweat for the 30 or so people who wanted to join. It was such an honor to be in a big sweat, full of experienced "walkers of the red road", and led by the Chief. Normally at the Sundance, the women and men sweat separately. For some reason, at our Sundance, the man are exponentially more experienced and trusted with more responsibilities than the women. The men dominate the dance. The women are humble, and tend to be pushed aside at our Dance. It is very obvious. So as a women, sweating with "the experienced" men was a definite treat.
And what a sweat it was! First we honored the rocks, and then honored our Chief. When we honored the four directions, and said the spirit invitation song, something extraordinary happened. The pitch dark sweat lodge was lit up with white spirit orbs, and lightening-bug-like spirit lights floated around the top of the lodge.
Rattles were rattling whizzing about
eagle-bone whistles sang
other-worldly-sounding bird songs started to sweetly chirp
a rush of air, a flapping of large wings
a unmistakable growling-hiss of cat that made your hairs stand on end
horse hoofs clack-clack-clacking
the walls of the tents shaking like someone was grabbing it from the top.
I am used to seeing these sorts of things in a lowampi ceremony done in a black room, but never have I heard of it happening in a sweat.
When you are in the sweat, it is like you are back in the womb, and in direct contact with the "invisible world", or the "great mystery" or the "divine" or whatever you want to call it. There is a shift that happens when you start the sweat, and its something that you can only feel in your bones and gut.
For me, things of this nature have always seemed real. I may have small moments of "is this for real!" but overall, experiencing it, seeing it, hearing it, and knowing the background of these people and the Chief, (who are not there to impress and make believers out of anyone), always leads me to the same conclusion. The things we heard and felt in the sweat sound silly put on paper. But it is the truth of what we experienced, or anyone, when you start to walk down the path of the "red road" that has any true medicine.
Beyond all the strange sights and sounds of the sweat (which acted to solidify that the spirits are in deed out there looking out for us), the sweat was a beautiful time for the Chief to give us guidance, and for us to pray for the people on the hill, and the people in our lives that needed help.
In our prayers out loud, I hear my husband say a little prayer for me and the baby inside of me, and the whole lodge meets his prayer with "a ho!" or some noise to help strengthen his prayer, and it's like a lightening rod zooms through me. I am filled with so much love for my husband and appreciation of being involved in these native ways.
When it's my turn, I manage to squeak out my prayers, knowing the spirits are listening, and my community is sympathizing to my humble prayers in my small voice.
Three rounds done and it's not too hot in there, like the unbearable heat of some of the sweats. But I am pregnant, and worried about over-doing it, thereby harming the baby. Between rounds, I catch glimpses of my son sitting quietly in a camping chair in front of the fire. I know he is in good hands with Rachel, but I find my mind now overcome with worry that maybe she is tired and needs to leave, or feeling guilty for leaving her with three kids, or worried that my son will soon be upset. In order to put my women's mind at ease, I sneak out of the sweat before the last round, kissing the earth and saying mitakuye oyasin, all my relations, on my way out.
This is why I love my life and love camping so much.
In it's unrefined idealistic state (I say this because there is also lots of drama to go with it) I feel so blessed to feel like part of a community, and one that is trying to help others, pray for others, and to better themselves.
Camping to me is much more than going out in the woods with a tent. Camping to me and my family means it is a time to have fun and to reconnect with each other, with friends, with the earth, and with spirit.
Namaste ~ Wopila
In it's unrefined idealistic state (I say this because there is also lots of drama to go with it) I feel so blessed to feel like part of a community, and one that is trying to help others, pray for others, and to better themselves.
Camping to me is much more than going out in the woods with a tent. Camping to me and my family means it is a time to have fun and to reconnect with each other, with friends, with the earth, and with spirit.
Namaste ~ Wopila
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Honor thy Mother
It's Mother's Day, and I am brooding. Perhaps, I am just expecting too much: a little breakfast, a little hand-made card, a flower picked from the garden? Nope, nothing. "You are not my mother," my husband said. True, but I am carrying his child, and caring for his two-year-old. This is my day. Mother's Day. But I am not feeling very honored or even especially loved.
That said, there is also a lot of chaos and change going on in our home. We just made the big move two states north to Indiana a week ago. There are boxes to be unpacked, endless social calls to return, friends to see, and a billion and one things we need sort out.
I do have one special thing planned today though. My friend Holly is hosting a "women's group." I have no idea what it is, or what to expect, but I do know that I am going to get a break from being a mom and wife, and get out of our up-turned home. Whoopee!
Holly lives 20 minutes out of Bloomington, at a sweet house on a hill with acres to roam. When I arrive, Holly and Rachel are down at the teepee. Trudging through the brush, making my way over to the teepee, I can't help but think this may be a serious spiritual gathering, and I can't help but to dread it. I have been through so much the last week, including narrowly escaping flooded Nashville. I just want to laugh and have fun with my girlfriends.
Within minutes, I am deeply focused inside the teepee making prayer ties with Holly, while Rachel is outside singing Lakota prayer songs while attempting to light a fire. I instantly serrender to the sacredness of this moment. I realize, that in fact, this is exactly where I need to be. This, is what I have been missing back in my "old life" in Nashville.
Holly has created a sacred space in the middle of the Teepee, including rocks and little trinkets important to her, as well as a picture of India's living saint "Amma," who is known as the mother of India. Cedar and sage are flowing, and just approaching the teepee I could feel the sacred power she intentionally created.
Eventually the women of this circle converge within the circle of the teepee, making five women, all mothers. Holly sings the beautiful Lakota song invoking and thanking the sacred four directions. This song sung amongst my sisters, instantly transports me back to my earlier days, sitting amongst 20 women in a sweat lodge. Years ago, with Hollie by my side (another newbie), I was being introduced to the Lakota ways at the Saltcreek Sundance.
I remember being completely overwhelmed by the immensity of being surrounded by such strong female energy in such a sacred, pure, and real manner. Sweats are intense. They are hot and make you suffer, and bring you directly in touch with the great spirit, should you wish to open up to it. There is a sense of connection with the others you sweat with. When they sing or speak, you don't see them, but feel their souls flowing as they sing or pray with their entire being. Something wonderful happens in there.
As a society, we are constantly bombarded with male energy. Men are typically stronger. By nature they are more aggressive and externally focused.
Female energy, in contrast, is more subtle and internal. "Some people confuse such subtlety with weakness; in truth, it is stronger than the most aggressive physical force imaginable. True human dignity does not shout; it is a strong, steady voice that speaks from within. The nature of a woman, while subtle, is not weak. And the nature of a man, while aggressive, is not brutish. For man and woman to be complete, they must each possess both energies."*
As a female, in a man's land, it is tough to stay solid and true to yourself. I have been sweating and praying with my own family, and other friends, which naturally is dominated by men. Not to say that I am not thankful. I am very thankful. I have learned so much about the native ways from my husband and his male teachers. But, hearing the female voices lift up and join together in Lakota prayer songs, it instantly put me in line with the divine mother, and her very powerful energy. Flowing in that teepee was the Divine Mother, as well as all those great female forces that did Her work, and who are doing Her work:
Athena, Ceres, Demeter, Devi, Durga, Gaia, Ha Hai-i Wuhti, Hecate, Ishtar, Isis, Juno, Kali, Kuan Yin, Lakshmi, Mother Mary, Persephone, Sarasvati, Shakti, Tara, and Venus. Goddess forms are many and beautiful.
As women, as mothers, we joined together today, Mother's Day, to honor the divine mother, as well as honor the divinity within each of us. We told her of our struggles, gave her our heart-felt thanks, and made prayers for ourselves and our loved-ones. We are connected by our human struggles and efforts to find our way through the daily muddle. Sometimes we forget the way, or forget that we are wise and holy, and possess that divine spark from the Mother within ourselves. We forget what an absolute beautiful, powerful creative force She is!
Coming together in this way helps us women to remember. It helps to keep us humble, but helps us to remember our own inner strength and essential power.
We pray to the Spirit for help in creating a stronger feminine alliance to balance the male-ego-dominated native gatherings happening around our area this summer. Without the female energy to balance, we are worried about the "tornadoes" that may be released from the imbalance.
As a mother, I can't help but to think of how I want my children to have something pure and holy left to "hold on to" in their lifetime. Keeping the native ways alive and pure is seems especially poignant today. Not just the native ways, but any other way that we connect to our spirit and to the Great Spirit/Void.
From personal experience, no one "way" has been perfect for me. They have all taught me so much about myself, about this world and how to connect with spirit. It is only because others have perservered their ancestors ways, that we can benefit from the power of ritual and tradition, and from the wisdom.
I am pregnant, perhaps with a daughter, and am reminded about how much I would love to have special female rituals to pass down to her. I would love for her to feel empowered to be a female, and embrace it. I want her to have strong female role-models that are not just power-hungry-corporate-super-moms, or cookie-baking-stay-at-home-soccer-moms. I want her to be surrounded by multi-faceted, creative, emotionally and mentally intelligent females who are passionate about bettering themselves, their communities, and the world.
How wonderful would it be to surround a growing girl with such female gatherings as today, and make her realize the struggles that may come with being a women, but how ravishing and important it is to be female at this time and place. I would love to honor her first monthly menstruation cycle, and spend time with my sisters, in a fun and creative (but sacred way) teaching her all it means to be a women. How wonderful for her to be around elders trying to become better people, better wives and mothers; women who hold high respect for each other, and honor each other.
I have already learned that you cannot always expect to get the respect and honor from the men in our lives. But we can come together as women and honor ourselves.
Women gatherings are important.
Today's gathering is especially important for me. It has reminded me of where I came from and where I am going. I am thankful for the opportunity to give thanks out loud to the Great Spirit, my spirit helpers, my internal divine, and my "sisters", for a successful transition to my new home. It was perfect way to shed my "old skin" and transition cleanly into my new one.
Namaste. Wopila.
*http://www.oppapers.com/essays/Roles/186149?topic
That said, there is also a lot of chaos and change going on in our home. We just made the big move two states north to Indiana a week ago. There are boxes to be unpacked, endless social calls to return, friends to see, and a billion and one things we need sort out.
I do have one special thing planned today though. My friend Holly is hosting a "women's group." I have no idea what it is, or what to expect, but I do know that I am going to get a break from being a mom and wife, and get out of our up-turned home. Whoopee!
Holly lives 20 minutes out of Bloomington, at a sweet house on a hill with acres to roam. When I arrive, Holly and Rachel are down at the teepee. Trudging through the brush, making my way over to the teepee, I can't help but think this may be a serious spiritual gathering, and I can't help but to dread it. I have been through so much the last week, including narrowly escaping flooded Nashville. I just want to laugh and have fun with my girlfriends.
Within minutes, I am deeply focused inside the teepee making prayer ties with Holly, while Rachel is outside singing Lakota prayer songs while attempting to light a fire. I instantly serrender to the sacredness of this moment. I realize, that in fact, this is exactly where I need to be. This, is what I have been missing back in my "old life" in Nashville.
Holly has created a sacred space in the middle of the Teepee, including rocks and little trinkets important to her, as well as a picture of India's living saint "Amma," who is known as the mother of India. Cedar and sage are flowing, and just approaching the teepee I could feel the sacred power she intentionally created.
Eventually the women of this circle converge within the circle of the teepee, making five women, all mothers. Holly sings the beautiful Lakota song invoking and thanking the sacred four directions. This song sung amongst my sisters, instantly transports me back to my earlier days, sitting amongst 20 women in a sweat lodge. Years ago, with Hollie by my side (another newbie), I was being introduced to the Lakota ways at the Saltcreek Sundance.
I remember being completely overwhelmed by the immensity of being surrounded by such strong female energy in such a sacred, pure, and real manner. Sweats are intense. They are hot and make you suffer, and bring you directly in touch with the great spirit, should you wish to open up to it. There is a sense of connection with the others you sweat with. When they sing or speak, you don't see them, but feel their souls flowing as they sing or pray with their entire being. Something wonderful happens in there.
As a society, we are constantly bombarded with male energy. Men are typically stronger. By nature they are more aggressive and externally focused.
Female energy, in contrast, is more subtle and internal. "Some people confuse such subtlety with weakness; in truth, it is stronger than the most aggressive physical force imaginable. True human dignity does not shout; it is a strong, steady voice that speaks from within. The nature of a woman, while subtle, is not weak. And the nature of a man, while aggressive, is not brutish. For man and woman to be complete, they must each possess both energies."*
As a female, in a man's land, it is tough to stay solid and true to yourself. I have been sweating and praying with my own family, and other friends, which naturally is dominated by men. Not to say that I am not thankful. I am very thankful. I have learned so much about the native ways from my husband and his male teachers. But, hearing the female voices lift up and join together in Lakota prayer songs, it instantly put me in line with the divine mother, and her very powerful energy. Flowing in that teepee was the Divine Mother, as well as all those great female forces that did Her work, and who are doing Her work:
Athena, Ceres, Demeter, Devi, Durga, Gaia, Ha Hai-i Wuhti, Hecate, Ishtar, Isis, Juno, Kali, Kuan Yin, Lakshmi, Mother Mary, Persephone, Sarasvati, Shakti, Tara, and Venus. Goddess forms are many and beautiful.
As women, as mothers, we joined together today, Mother's Day, to honor the divine mother, as well as honor the divinity within each of us. We told her of our struggles, gave her our heart-felt thanks, and made prayers for ourselves and our loved-ones. We are connected by our human struggles and efforts to find our way through the daily muddle. Sometimes we forget the way, or forget that we are wise and holy, and possess that divine spark from the Mother within ourselves. We forget what an absolute beautiful, powerful creative force She is!
Coming together in this way helps us women to remember. It helps to keep us humble, but helps us to remember our own inner strength and essential power.
We pray to the Spirit for help in creating a stronger feminine alliance to balance the male-ego-dominated native gatherings happening around our area this summer. Without the female energy to balance, we are worried about the "tornadoes" that may be released from the imbalance.
As a mother, I can't help but to think of how I want my children to have something pure and holy left to "hold on to" in their lifetime. Keeping the native ways alive and pure is seems especially poignant today. Not just the native ways, but any other way that we connect to our spirit and to the Great Spirit/Void.
From personal experience, no one "way" has been perfect for me. They have all taught me so much about myself, about this world and how to connect with spirit. It is only because others have perservered their ancestors ways, that we can benefit from the power of ritual and tradition, and from the wisdom.
I am pregnant, perhaps with a daughter, and am reminded about how much I would love to have special female rituals to pass down to her. I would love for her to feel empowered to be a female, and embrace it. I want her to have strong female role-models that are not just power-hungry-corporate-super-moms, or cookie-baking-stay-at-home-soccer-moms. I want her to be surrounded by multi-faceted, creative, emotionally and mentally intelligent females who are passionate about bettering themselves, their communities, and the world.
How wonderful would it be to surround a growing girl with such female gatherings as today, and make her realize the struggles that may come with being a women, but how ravishing and important it is to be female at this time and place. I would love to honor her first monthly menstruation cycle, and spend time with my sisters, in a fun and creative (but sacred way) teaching her all it means to be a women. How wonderful for her to be around elders trying to become better people, better wives and mothers; women who hold high respect for each other, and honor each other.
I have already learned that you cannot always expect to get the respect and honor from the men in our lives. But we can come together as women and honor ourselves.
Women gatherings are important.
Today's gathering is especially important for me. It has reminded me of where I came from and where I am going. I am thankful for the opportunity to give thanks out loud to the Great Spirit, my spirit helpers, my internal divine, and my "sisters", for a successful transition to my new home. It was perfect way to shed my "old skin" and transition cleanly into my new one.
Namaste. Wopila.
*http://www.oppapers.com/essays/Roles/186149?topic
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