I was at Wolf Run this weekend past with Pam, Naazima
Ali, and Gail Dickert. Gail, is the director of Frog Pond. Her spiritual
insights and intuition are sharp, clear and refreshing. I could go on and on
about that young woman but I won't. Naazima Ali is a Black Cherokee woman Pam
and I have know a few years. Together the three of us have done strong
spiritual work together. Bear came to us in those very mountains and taught us
one night a good story. The four of us were in the mountains for one reason: to
build a new sweat lodge. The storm that wracked the Washington DC area was a
magical light and drum show. It was a display of power I've never seen before.
I've seen wind blow, and water fall, but I've never seen a Thunderbird fly
through the trees stirring the wind making a sound from its vocabulary. The air
was full. It was strong and warm. It embraced me as I felt around gathering my
story stones and crystals I'd earlier formed into Medicine Wheels here and
there where the ceremonies occur. Very little light from the tea light lantern
split through the growing darkness but I managed to 'save' the stones.
Pam and I had made four bedrolls around the fire circle
and wrapped them in large tarps. "Do we leave them? What do we do?"
We decided to retrieve them as the rain pelted us with humor. I buried mine
under the tarp covering the woodpile that stands behind where I like to sleep
around the fire. The women dragged one into the small Prayer House nestled in
the trees leaving me with one large bundle in hand and stones in another.
Somebody laughed out loud. We all did. It was a joy being outside in the turbulences
of rain, wind, thunder, and force.
Earlier gathering the stones I didn't realize how close
Bear was to me until the force of the Thunderbird stirred urgency within Bear
to seek cover, and whatever play he had in mind with me went away as he broke
small trees running away and up to the place he lives not too far up the
mountain from our lodge site. On the opposite side of the lodge space Deer
broke for cover. Now with the four of us giddy with the joy and excitement of
Wind's Power we got drenched walking the path through the woods to the Hunter's
Lodge. Inside we laughed, and talked about things, ate a good meal and eventually
settled down and slept with the sounds of rain playing and drumming.
Much later in the night I awoke startled by the thoughts
of love for Songs. As silent as I could on sleepy feet I walked outside in the
dark barefoot down a stony path and stood still listening to the murmur of Moon’s
light and the current of feeling good in the darkness. Not everything heard can
be spoken, and not everything spoken should be translated or uttered. In the
dark I saw the light of Moon, and the stillness was movement and songs came
from my heart of hearts and lifted towards the Songs that have always stirred my
creativity and love for Songs into a lifeway.
No comments:
Post a Comment