medicine walk – Page 2 – Karen's New York Love Affair

What is my purpose?

As you might have guessed from my last entry, this time when I set out on the medicine walk I was determined not to get my feet wet. At least not until after the sun came up! I set out at about 4:25 am, with a cool morning temperature of 1° C. I paused at the threshold I’d chosen, a natural doorway formed by two trees. I offered sage to the spirits of the four directions, and asked them to be with me on the walk. This was perhaps the first time I spoke to the spirits this way, and I was slow and awkward. I informed them of my purpose for the medicine walk. I wanted to find out what the purpose would be on my upcoming vision fast. Though I had many ideas, I had no clarity as to the most important wish to focus on. As my teacher Jed advised, I would hold my question close to me all through the day.

Formalities accomplished, I set out along the dirt road that led through the gates of Monkey Valley. I wondered what magic the day might hold for me. What is it like to step through the threshold into the world of spirit? I felt open, curious, light, and innocent. I followed the road north, taking the right-hand fork that swung around to the east to ford the creek. Sometimes I ford the creek by climbing along an old log fence, but this time I wanted to follow nature’s path, so I went along the creek until I found a log that was wide enough to cross on. When I reached the road on the far side of the creek, I followed the overgrown track that went south down the valley, gradually climbing from the level of the creek to about twenty feet above it.

Suddenly I heard a loud sound. Moose! I looked down to the valley floor, and saw a beautiful ungainly creature running through the grasses below. Was it male or female? It had no antlers, as far as I could tell, and didn’t seem to be pregnant, nor to have a little one nearby. I think the moose had heard my own ungainly passage, for it took shelter behind some bushes. I waited a little while for the moose to emerge again, thinking “Moose is more patient than me.” But I was wrong, for the moose resumed its journey. I watched the glimpses of rich brown limbs and hump as the moose crossed the valley floor and disappeared into the trees on the other side. I am patient! Perhaps this discovery was the first gift of my day’s journey. To be continued…

Walking into a vision

It might not always be obvious, but the purpose of this blog is to share my experiences in the wild, my explorations of what it means to be wild, and my love of the wild. It is also to inform you, dear reader, so that you can explore these things yourself, and perhaps one day choose to do a vision fast of your own. My hope is that through sharing my experiences, you will be inspired to awaken to the depths of your own nature, as well as your own deep connection with the natural world. If you know this connection, and feel it deeply, you too will want to do what you can to protect this beautiful earth that we live on.

Sometimes I share other aspects of my life, but in looking back over the entries I’ve made over the past 28 months, I think there is a cohesiveness to how the different subjects tie together. My inner explorations and the adventures I’ve had in the natural world are two strands of the marvellous thread of growing as a person and soul on this earth, and my attempts to bring the inner maturation into concrete form in the outer world form another strand. This is, after all, the purpose of the vision fast—to have our visions, yes, and then to bring them to life for our people.

My intention now and for the next while is to start sharing specific stories from the vision fasts that I’ve had the privilege of experiencing. Today, I’d like to tell you about one of the first medicine walks I ever went on, in preparation for my first vision fast, which I was going to do with my ecopsychology classmates at Naropa University. This was my second attempt at the medicine walk in preparation for the vision fast. On the first one, which I attempted in mid-May, 2005, I accidentally stepped in springwater and soaked my feet within 10 mintues of setting out. The temperature was still below freezing at that early hour of the morning, and I was afraid I might get hypothermia with my feet, socks, and boots so wet. So my first lesson was: always bring an extra pair of wool socks! And I went back to the cabin at Monkey Valley, determined to try again another day.

The next time I set out on my pre-vision fast medicine walk, it was May 27, 2005. I wanted to prepare myself for the vision fast by trying out my gear, so I’d set up my tarp in a grove of lodgepole pine near my cabin the previous day, and slept outside overnight. I woke at about 4:00 am, with the birds announcing the imminence of the day in loud song. I heard grouse drumming and great horned owl hooting. Many birds were calling me forth to walk the sacred walk! That spring I kept hearing the “come to me” call of an unidentified bird, and she was calling me this morning too. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the astonishing sight of the moon in the sky peering at me through the opening at the foot of my tarp. To be continued…

Medicine walk and 5th anniversary of BC Wilderness Visions

BC Wilderness Visions and the Monkey Valley Retreat Centre celebrates its 5th anniversary of nature programs this summer! The first program was a medicine wheel teaching in the summer of 2005, when 25 people came to Monkey Valley and created a beautiful medicine wheel. Teachers Joyce Lyke and Tracy Leach taught us how to walk the wheel, and people came from California, Wyoming, Ontario, Alberta, and from as far away as the UK to attend this special teaching. The wheel is still there, and last May I lined the spring-to-summer quarter of it with stones. This summer I plan to fill in the next quarter of the wheel.

July also marks the two-year anniversary of this blog! Two years ago my friend John Harper encouraged me to begin writing about ecopsychology and the work I do in nature. Since then I have shared many stories of the land at Monkey Valley, wilderness work, and my happy trails and trials running. Writing this blog has been an expression of my heart as I have shared stories with you of the things that I love. The creativity of writing whatever I feel like in a blog format has felt like a flow of fun and lightness of spirit (with an occasional dash of despair about my unruly ways). I sometimes wonder if anyone reads this blog, but I do hear from one or two readers from time to time! So please join me in celebrating this two-year anniversary, and drop me a note to let me know you’re out there!

This year I am offering a new program at Monkey Valley, together with Angela James—the ChiRunning and yoga retreat July 23 – 25. In addition, it will be the third summer in a row of putting a faster out on the land to fast for a vision, using the ancient and modern ceremony of the vision fast. And, on June 20, I brought the four-shields teaching and medicine walk to Vancouver in a new day-long format.

Two beautiful souls accompanied me to the forest beside the Seymour River in North Vancouver, where we created an altar in a clearing on the bank of the river. Using the form of speaking from the heart known as council practice, we did several rounds. The first round was in honour of our fathers and Father’s Day. It was very moving to express appreciation for the gifts our fathers have given us. The second round was in honour of the summer solstice. Then the participants spoke of their intention for their medicine walks.

Although it was a cloudy day, the land was lush and green, and bursting with salmon berries. Although the participants were to fast from food, shelter, and human companionship during their walks, I left it up to their own inner guidance whether to make like bears and enjoy the berries! While my two friends went on their three-hour walks, I sat beside the river, and drank in the silence and beauty. The water rushed by, green and playful. Sometimes the spumes of white foam curling over rocks looked like little skunks swimming upstream. Swallows swooped low, eating bugs in the air over the river, and one swallow circled, swooped, and darted around in a long loop about five times before seeking new bugscapes. A bald eagle flew upriver high overhead, and a pair of ducks sped downstream in a formation as tight as fighter pilots. What a gift it was to have this unhurried time to watch nature do her thing. As time went on the quieting of my mind deepened, and the trees across the river began to reveal their mysteries in a way that the ordinary waking mind cannot hear.

The richness of my solo time was enhanced by knowing my companions would be back soon, with stories to tell of what happened on their walks. They returned with gifts of stories and berries, and we ate a meal together in the circle before sharing the stories. It was very moving to hear how the land and her creatures had interacted with my friends on their walks. I felt a deep appreciation for this special place, and for the people who were willing to take time to be with themselves in a quiet, intimate way. After we closed the circle, packed our things, and said goodbye to the spot that had held our ceremony, we hiked out through the forest trails feeling a little lighter and closer to our hearts.

Your one wild and precious life

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
– Mary Oliver, 1992

Do you ever wonder what you’re doing with your life, and whether it is truly fulfilling your deepest joy, your purpose here, right now, on this earth, in this lifetime? Do you ever feel like maybe you’re not quite in alignment with your deepest values? Do you seek to find the right balance for yourself between obligations to your self, your people, your work, and your place?

It is a precious gift to have the chance to live in a body on this beautiful earth. I’d like to tell you about two events that celebrate both the earth and our connection to it.

Radical Joy for Hard Times is celebrating our love for the earth through an event called the Global Earth Exchange, on June 19. This is a do-it-yourself kind of event, where you find a place near where you live that has been wounded, perhaps by human activities or perhaps by a natural disaster. Go there on June 19, with a few friends or alone, and create something of beauty in that place. It could be a song, drumming, bringing flowers, planting a tree, picking up trash, or anything else you might like to do to bring beauty to the area. That’s it. Pretty simple. Just letting your heart express its love for the earth by caring for a place that could use a little attention. If you’d like to be a part of the event in a more formal way, there are resources on the Global Earth Exchange web site.

If you are wondering how to connect with the earth and bring your gifts into the world, I invite you to join me on a medicine walk on June 20. I’d love to share with you this ceremonial way of walking on the earth and seeking guidance from the more-than-human world. I’ve reduced the fee to $30, but heck, if money is an issue for you, you can participate for free. Just use the form on the Registration page to sign up, and I’ll contact you with the details about where to meet on the morning of the 20th. Then we’ll carpool to the Seymour River (about a 15-minute drive) and spend a day together in the woods.

Both of these events occur on the weekend of the summer solstice. Connecting with the earth in a conscious way is a wonderful way to mark the turning of the seasons. If neither of these events appeal to you, perhaps you will find your own way to mark the passage from spring into summer.

Returning to my people

I’d like to conclude my story of the medicine walk with telling you about how Ruth and Larry mirrored the story for me, and what has happened since then. As I mentioned in Three parts of the ceremony, the final stage is reincorporation. During this stage, we bring the gifts of our threshold time back to our people. We find a way to manifest our gifts and vision in the world.

The first way we do that is by telling the gift of our story. Having had the privilege of sitting in story council dozens of times, listening to the stories of fasters, I affirm wholeheartedly the value of hearing these stories. It is moving, uplifting, and makes us more human to witness the vulnerable, innocent, desperate, and triumphant struggles of those who dare to fast alone in the wilderness. It is truly a gift, and we tell the fasters not to squander the gift on just anyone. We tell them to share the story only with those who have ears to hear. I am trusting that you, dear blog readers, are such people, people who have ears to hear.

It was wonderful to sit in circle with Ruth and Larry and tell them about my medicine walk. I gave them the gifts I had made for them, and showed them the bouquet. I told them about the four ceremonies I did.

Although I had focused on each of the four directions in my ceremonies, Ruth said that it was strongly a story of the south, of the place of the child, with the strength and passion of the red south energy. She named the many times I used red in my ceremony—the threshold of red beads, the blood, the red cap for the lizard, the red suede wrapping the bouquet stems, the shield with red hearts on it that I gave my inner man.

This is one of the mysteries of the wheel. When we are working with the wheel, we can view each direction through the lens of one direction—in this case, the south. So the energies of the west and inner man can be viewed from the south. The making of gifts for our people, north energy, can be viewed from the south. And the creative celebration of the east can also be viewed from the south. In this way, the eyes of the child and her strength interact with the energies of the other directions, viewing them with her particular concerns, interacting with them with her innocence and ruthlessness.

Ruth reflected that the little girl in me was strong, and that her love of beadwork was a gift she’d brought to the world that helped me survive. That little girl is a survivor, all right! Ruth honoured the way that I held my little girl, and later made a piece of art depicting my hands unbraiding the little girl’s hair. The freedom of the little girl running through nature after I held her in the ceremony is a feeling I have experienced several times since returning from the desert, when I have listened to my experience deeply. The freedom to just be myself, without distorting, contorting, or contracting to be what I think someone else wants. This is the freedom of the unecumbered soul—the birthright of us all.

The other aspect of my ceremony that Ruth mirrored was that I claimed my balls! I hadn’t realized the significance of this at the time, when I was interacting with my inner man in the final ceremony and gave him some balls of warm peachy-yellow stone. In the past when I have worked with my inner man, I have given him a penis but not thought that the balls were necessary. But I guess a man might have quite a different perception! This spontaneous act of claiming the balls is what solidified and completed my intention of claiming my inner father: I am mother and father to myself, and I have the strength and take the time to care for my hurt self.

I didn’t understand the importance of this brief moment of spying a stone and scooping it up, and sliding it under the penis I’d already give the man figure I created. But this has had an incredible impact on my life since coming home from the desert. Even a few days later, when we returned to Big Pine, the confidence and groundedness in my body was palpable. I went on a night run through the town of Big Pine, saw some pink roses drenched with recent rain, and totally ravished them, sinking my face into the petals and drinking up the rose-flavoured water. This is what it feels like to be a man, taking what I want! (I imagine! Any male readers who care to comment on whether this is true for you, please do.)

Other evidence of the incorporation of my inner father continues to manifest. I noticed right away that a particular kind of longing for something from a man had disappeared. I didn’t need it from the outside, because I had it on the inside now. I am speaking of a longing to be seen, cherished, approved of, loved. What I wanted from my father, and sought from lovers. I was no longer looking at men with this same needy eye, hungering and trying to get something from them. There is truly a feeling of completeness on the inside. And, correspondingly, a realization that no man can give me this. This makes me feel freer—no longer driven to try to be what another wants to get the love from the outside. And it also gives any men I might come across freedom to be who they are, not the projection of my father. So freedom all around. That’s a good thing!

One interesting thing I have noticed as I recount the events of last October to you is that I can’t recall what Larry said. I didn’t take notes of the mirroring. Although I vividly recollect sitting in circle, and hugging Larry at the end of the mirroring, I can’t remember any words. I only remember a loving feeling of being held by his warm attention. Perhaps the claiming of my inner father manifested this way as well—I didn’t need to be affirmed by a man on the outside. [Coming back to this later it occurs to me that of course Larry affirmed my story. I may not have needed his words to affirm my words, but the warmth of being truly listened to and heard is something I do need, and that I felt nourished by on this occasion.]

And finally, I hope you will all understand something else from this story. By being more fully who I am, free to be my true self—playful, innocent, strong, vulnerable, confident, dignified, silly, and joyful—I actually am free to contribute my gifts more freely in the world. This is one of the benefits of the vision fast ceremony. It empowers us all to be more fully ourselves, and this is the greatest gift we can bring our people.

Next time I will tell you about a dream I had the night after I returned, which illustrated some of the themes I have written about in a beautiful way.

The medicine walk: getting down to the nitty gritty

Continuing on with the story of the east shield ceremony, I was now near the mouth of the canyon, near the canyon wall on the north side of the wash. The wash was filled with stones, from tiny pebbles to large boulders, but I’d chosen a ceremonial spot that was flat and gravelly. The canyon walls are formed of Paleozoic sedimentary rocks, and the area where I found the yellow flowers is a favourite site for trilobite seekers.

After I danced with my inner man, I spoke aloud to the figure I had made of stones, imagining it was the man I was currently attracted to. I told him everything I longed for, thought I knew, and feared about him. I imagined my first name paired with his last name, and smiled, for this combination forms the name of a spiritual teacher I respect greatly. It reminded me of being in grade school, with the other girls, writing out our names with the last names of the boys we had crushes on.

As I spoke to him, we danced a little more, and I picked up some stones to add to the figure. I found a branch that looked like a tree of life, and I put it in his right hand. Then I found a shield with red hearts on it, to put in his left hand. I gave him warm, round, peach-coloured balls. One leg was a bit shorter than the other, and I put a smaller red and white rock under it. My heart!

I spoke aloud my belief that he needed to walk the path of his own truth, healing, and growth. That was the most important thing, and more important than any relationship he might have with a woman. At this point I put a rock that looked like a road, with a line running down it, under his feet. A little while later, as the ceremony unfolded, I put another small rock to represent my heart, and another to represent a warm stone pussy, on the road.

After I’d done all the talking and dancing, I sat down beside him and asked my inner man to talk to me. First he said, “I love you.” Then that he would protect my inner child. Then I felt a shining golden bliss in my torso, the feeling of our love-making. Then he said he loves me fiercely, in the ancient ways and for all eternity. I could feel the wind blowiong like the wind of eternity, and the truth of it.

I wondered how my own father viewed me, for that is part of the impression that forms our inner masculine. I remembered being a teenager, dressed up to go out, with makeup and a mini-skirt, and my dad saying I looked like a whore. As if there’s anything wrong with that, I said to myself. I remembered how he liked to look at Ursula Andress in her white bikini, arising out of the ocean in Dr. No. Him saying this had always hurt me, but now I knew he was just having a hard time letting his daughter go to other men. I couldn’t recall either parent ever talking about my future as a wife or mother, or hoping that I would have a good relationship with a man when I grew up. Maybe it was expected but unsaid.

I thought about the man I was currently drawn to, and what the attraction felt like. I imagined various aspects of a life together. Just then a plane flew over and made a giant X in the sky! It is so nice when the universe gives really clear messages!

My inner man expressed the fierceness with which I want to be wanted—sexually, romantically, and for who I am as a person. That is how he wants me, and as the inner father I am claiming in this ceremony, that is what he wants for me. Looking back at the ceremony now, I feel that the inner father was blessing me to find this kind of relationship with a man in the outer world. And I also know that the fierce longing is the longing of each soul for our beloved—the mystery that we are, are from, are part of, and long for complete union with. The love between lovers is a beautiful form this takes: the love of the beloved in each other. May it be so…

The medicine walk: ceremony with the inner masculine

I have been writing about my medicine walk in Eureka Valley, California, last October. After I completed the north shield ceremony, which involved gathering the bouquet of flowers and making gifts for my people, I felt that I wanted to do an east shield ceremony. I didn’t know what form this might take, but considered doing work on what I was projecting onto a man I currently felt very drawn to. Or perhaps I could do a ceremony with the little boy inside, or lizard man—two east shield figures I have done work with in the past. Or maybe I would be drawn to do a ceremony on something else that is creative, joyful, and the breaking down of old forms.

In keeping with the movement of this day, I decided to move further down the wash for the final ceremony. I gathered up my pack and jackets, as I still felt the heat of the afternoon and wasn’t wearing all the layers I’d started out with that morning. I began walking down the wash, looking for a place where I felt drawn to do my ceremony. When I came to the small waterfall (now dry), I picked up the bouquet I made earlier. I didn’t quite find a spot that felt really good, but eventually saw a place to put down the bouquet on a flat rock. This became my altar, and I arranged my ceremonial stones for the four directions on it, with a tealight candle in the middle.

I wanted to find a form in nature to represent my inner man so I could talk to him. I scanned the cliff that formed one of the canyon walls, and looked at the boulders in this area, but nothing seemed quite right. Since I couldn’t find a life-size figure, I made a figure of a man from smaller flat pieces of rock, which I laid out on a yellow towel. (Yellow for the east!) First I found a red and white stone to use for the heart, then a big round white stone that I felt inspired to use for the head, and then some flat pieces of slate to use for the torso, arms, legs, and pelvis. I found some dried branches to use for hair, and a yellow stone from the buddy pile to use for the penis.

I offered tobacco from Dirk, the sweat lodge fire keeper and water pourer who had given me this gift in Arizona at the wilderness guides gathering. I sprinkled the tobacco in the four directions, offering thanks to the spirits and asking them to be with me in this ceremony. At first I felt a little shy talking to this figure I had created to represent my inner man, and I sat across the altar from him. Then I stood up to talk to him, and danced to some songs in my head—You Sexy Thing and Beast of Burden.

To be continued…

The medicine walk: bouquets and gifts of the north

For the next part of the medicine walk I’ve been writing about, I wanted to do some work in the north part of the wheel, which involves giving our gifts to our people. It can also involve making gifts, doing concrete physical tasks, craftwork, and so on.

I walked farther down the wash, and found a nice big boulder to lean against, which gave me a bit of shade, but not too much. I wrote in my journal about what had happened so far. Then I went down to the place where I had seen the yellow flowers. They were in a flat area nestled among boulders above a drop in elevation, which would be a waterfall when the rains fell in this dry desert place. Possibly a small pool formed here before spilling over, allowing more moisture to remain here, quenching the flowers with the water they needed to grow. I marvelled at this miracle of life in the desert.

I gathered a bouquet of the yellow flowers, adding some pale green leaves that had a band of red and yellow tips on them, and a sprig of a lush reddish plant. I gave Reiki to each plant, thanking them for these gifts of beauty from their bodies. I bound the stems together with a strip of faux red suede and some black thread. It reminded me of the bouquet my buddy had made for me and left at the buddy pile the first time I fasted in the desert. I had carried that bouquet in my car for about a year after the fast.

I thought of leaving this bouquet on the buddy pile for the faster I was buddying from base camp. Then I thought maybe I should give it to my inner man, to woo him and deepen my relationship to him. At this point I still didn’t know who I would give it to. I left it in a safe place by the yellow flowering plant, because it might get wrecked if I put it in my pack.

I came back up to my nice boulder spot and made a ring of gold and purple for my little girl. The first day the fasters went out I had a long meditation in base camp, and the colours purple and gold had infused my soul. I had somehow chosen these colours of beads to bring along on the trip when I had been packing in Vancouver. I also brought the colours of the four directions.

So now I made the ring, contemplating my association of this particular shade of purple, a mauve colour, with mourning. I had experienced it when mourning at Auschwitz about the loss to the world of the gifts and love of all the people who were killed there. I now felt the mourning of the gifts that were lost to the world because my little girl was hurt and it has taken so many years to heal and begin bringing her gifts into the world. The gold was a celebration of her beingness and our connection, which I had experienced when we interacted by the golden cholla cactus—a merging bliss.

As I worked on the ring I acknowledged and honoured the way she HAS brought her gifts into the world, struggling all the while but doing it in spite of the immense obstacles. She shared her love of beading with the world (through writing the book Complete Beading for Beginners), and this earned awards, recognition, and even enough money to buy a car. That’s a helluva accomplishment for a little girl!

Then I made beaded bracelets for Larry and Ruth, using the colours of the four directions—white, yellow, red, and black. I also made one for my buddy, to leave on the buddy pile. I selected purple too, for Ruth’s bracelet, gold for Larry, and green for the faster. I loved the pattern that emerged from the selected colours, and the mathematical element of combining the beads to make the right length of bracelet. When I was finished, I wrapped these gifts in scraps of the faux red suede, with a small stone for each. Then I noticed a beautiful dried flower that seemed to be a kind of daisy. I snipped its stem, using the scissors on my Swiss army knife, and took it down to add to the bouquet.

It felt so satisfying to create gifts of beauty to give to my people. The knowing of how to do it and the tools to use was very north shield. But the creativity involved was east shield. My thoughts turned to the east shield now as I contemplated the ritual I wanted to do for the east part of my day walk.

The medicine walk: cholla cactus and golden braids

If you have been following this story of the medicine walk, you might be wondering what my longing for a loving relationship has to do with the intention I brought on the walk, and why I chose to ask the lizard that question. I can tell you two things about this. One is that the question arose spontaneously, as did the entire interaction with the lizard. And it is this spontaneous arising in nature that is part of the gift of the medicine walk, vision fast, and other work in nature. One never knows what is going to happen. And what happens is outside the realm of our usual experience. This is why we go to nature in the first place—to gain insight and understanding from a place that is different from our usual thought processes and ways of interacting in the world. As my story continues I will draw together all the pieces of the events on the medicine walk into a cohesive whole that makes sense.

The second piece about asking about my desire for a loving relationship is that this is part of the work with my inner man. I mentioned previously that I am claiming my inner father. Yet the inner masculine is also my inner lover. And the type of relationship I have with both these aspects of my inner masculine will affect the quality of relationships I have with men in my life, especially in the area of intimate, romantic relationships. Looked at one way, this means that the desire for a great romantic relationship is a strong motivation to do the inner work to have good relationships with the inner masculine aspects. But that’s kind of a backwards way of looking at it, as you may know if you are involved in inner work yourself. The gifts of looking within are the goal of the work, and the benefit this may have in our outer lives and relationships is secondary. (Or so the theory goes!) But the truth is, our relationship with ourself is the one constant that is there throughout our life, while outer relationships come and go.

So, to continue my story, I left off at the point where I was sitting near the golden cactus. I noticed it was prickly, to keep other creatures away (like me). And beautiful, to draw them close (like me). Suddenly I wanted to know what it would take. If only I could DO SOMETHING, like flog myself with the cactus, cutting my arms, or run across the desert for miles and miles, to make it happen. I felt my powerlessness. Do I have to move to California or New York to improve my chances of meeting the kind of man with whom I want to have a relationship, who is as deeply committed as I am to the inner journey? Does he have to be on the same spiritual path, or can it be someone like Larry, who runs and meditates and has a deep inner awareness, and holds the sacred ceremony of the vision fast? He can sense himself and his unfoldment, though his inner work has been on a different path than mine. And then there is that mysterious factor of strong physical attraction, which I would want to feel with my mate. When will I find all of this in one man, I wondered.

I felt into the sadness in my chest, and the longing to be seen, regarded as special, loved and cherished—from a lover man whom I felt passionate about. And I felt the helplessness and hopelessness about ever having that. I believed I don’t get to have it, won’t ever get to have it. The hopeless sad powerless longing felt like when I was a child. And cactus was saying don’t look outside for what you want, just do your inner work. (And I remembered Larry saying what we all want is on the inside.) That felt frustrating and unsatisfying too, but I also noticed the feeling tone of feeling powerless to ever have what I want, and hopeless, felt like when I was a little girl, wanting mom and dad’s love and attention and for them to think I was special.

I remembered being about four, having these feelings. Longing for love, closeness, attention. Feeling ugly and unloveable. The hurt of it all. So I started talking to little Karen, telling her I could feel her hurt, and I was there for her, loved her, thought she is beautiful and precious, and that I cared about how she felt. I asked if she could hear me, but she seemed pretty absorbed in her hurt and sadness. She didn’t seem to be aware of me. With my eyes closed, I imagined drawing her near to me, and I unbraided her two braids. I touched her hair, telling her that her hair was beautiful, soft and wavy from the braids, and that she is special. I could see her uniqueness and the qualities in her that are different from most little girls. This showed in her face as a seriousness and strength.

I held her close, telling her she is special, and felt a very full, loving feeling, deep pink, in my heart. The pink fullness was also between us and through us, a unified field of it. Then I saw her as free to be who she was—happy and light, a tremendous force of nature, running through the landscape.

Although this experience wasn’t the union with the masculine that I longed for, it was very satisfying, and seemed to be a piece of the puzzle of healing so that I am ready for a relationship. Reparenting my inner child, releasing her pain, allowing her to be free to be herself. With this work done, I no longer needed to seek someone on the outside to give her the love and attention she had been longing for. To honour and mark what had occurred, I did a small ceremony. Earlier, when I crossed the threshold, I had a nose bleed. I buried the kleenex with my blood on it at the base of the cactus, as a gift of thanks from my body to the earth, and a symbol of letting go of the suffering from the past. I marked the tiny grave with a black stone, and placed a piece of the cactus that had broken off on the flat black stone, together with a tiny red stone.

This concluded the second part of my medicine walk, which I thought of as being related to the west side of the wheel. The inner masculine work is the work of the west. But clearly the work with the inner child is the work of the south. Ruth reflected this back to me later on when I told the story to her and Larry. And she made the beautiful piece of art pictured here, showing the hands loosening the braid.

The work with the little girl seemed like a possible completion of my medicine walk. It was so wonderful to have cared for her in such a way that her suffering was relieved and she was freed to be her true, magnificent self in the world. As often happens when fasting, my thoughts turned to food and I wondered if I should call it a day and go back to base camp to eat! But I had it in my mind to do some further ceremony for the north and the east…

The medicine walk: cell phones and lizards

After the ritual of the south I felt it was time to move. I couldn’t get comfortable in this place. It was too hot in the sun, too cool in the shade. All the rocks felt rough and uncomfortable to lean against. So I gathered up my things and headed down the wash.

I saw a spot with red rocks, which I had noticed on the way up. It was at the mouth of another wash that led to a plateau high above the valley floor. I continued down the wash a little further until I came to a beautiful big golden prickly cactus. I took its picture, remembering another faster who had taken a picture of the same type of cactus.

I wanted to check the messages on my cell phone. (Not a very ancient ritual, I’m afraid!) Leaving my pack and extra clothes near the cactus, I took my cell phone and climbed up to the top of the red rock wash. I looked around and saw a faster below, in another canyon. I retreated below the ridge line to turn my phone on, got a minimal signal, and stood up on the ridge line again to check voice mail, but it didn’t go through. Aha. So this is what the spirits of the place had to say about modern communications!

I climbed back down to where I’d left my pack, and noticed a flash of movement. I’d startled a lizard, who had darted under a little plant. I looked at him and noticed he was a collared lizard with two black stripes around his neck and orange in between. The rest of his body was coloured a softer orange with a grey pattern. He was quite big, and had a long, slender, flexible tail.

I really wanted to give him some water, so I poured some into the lid of a water bottle and sat very still, waiting to see if he’d drink it. I was facing down the wash, with a wonderful view across the basin floor to the mountains on the other side. I tried to be patient and just wait. It seemed quite a while, and I could see the lizard under the plant, absolutely still, with one eye facing me. Eventually I saw his tail moving, flicking slightly back and forth, and then he turned fully towards me.

He came a little closer, looking right at me, only about 18 inches away. He flicked his tongue at me, tasting and sensing me. I looked at him too, and then he went over to the water in the bottle cap. He looked at it but didn’t drink it. Then he scampered over my pile of black jackets, pausing and continuing until he was right up close to me. He looked at me again, straight on. Then he jumped off the pile and ran away, off to my left.

While we had this contact I had been asking the lizard what it would take to have someone love me the way I want to be loved. He seemed to be showing me something about curiousity, getting to know someone, check out what’s offered, and then decide whether it was what I wanted. In the case of the water, it wasn’t what he wanted. And then he took off, after his curiousity was satisfied.

To me, lizard is the creative masculine of the east. But exploring my desire for a loving relationship with a man seems very west. Hmm! This is one of the mysteries of the wheel, how the two opposite poles are related to each other.

I didn’t feel fully satisfied with the lizard’s answer about finding love, so I decided to continue the exploration by having a conversation with the golden cactus. To be continued…