The gift of fire

 Meeting in Circle with the Wilderness Guides Council

Fire is the element of the east, the direction of springtime. When I first sat in circle at the Wilderness Guides Council, on Monday, April 13, I deliberately sat in the east. This is a part of the wheel that I am least comfortable in. Magic happens here, and the unpredictable, for it is in this direction that old forms are broken down so that something new can emerge. It is the direction of creativity, death and rebirth, and has the gift of vision of the eagle flying high in the sky.

I am typically more comfortable in the west, the place of introspection and Flicker featherdarkness. So it felt risky to take my place in the east and own this part of my spirit. There were about 25 guides sitting in the circle, and I listened as they discussed the business of our annual meeting. Things like the budget and who would be carrying on which duties in the year to come. They have a “mask of the ancestors,” and one of the duties is to be the keeper of the mask. It is made out of the pelvic bone of a large animal, and is decorated with feathers and beads. The meeting lasted a long time—about 5 hours—and about 4 hours into it one of the feathers blew off the mask and landed in my lap. It was an orange flicker feather—which I have written about previously in this blog. This was the first magical gift of the east. It seemed like a blessing and confirmation that I am a member of this group. The ancestors confirmed it. And my own heart did too—sitting listening to these people who care about each other, the earth, and the sacred ceremony of the vision fast, I felt my own desire to continue on through time with these people. The gift of the feather confirmed it. I put the feather in my emergency kit, which I always carry with me when I’m out on the land. May it keep all the fasters safe!

The Sweat Lodge

CampfireAfter the Wilderness Guides Council (of North America) gathering ended, we had about 24 hours to prepare the grounds for the International Wilderness Guides Gathering—a week-long gathering of guides from around the world. I helped out a little, setting up the garbage and recycling bins. But the main thing I had volunteered to do was to help with the campfires, to make sure they were put out safely at the end of the night. But somehow this turned into a new job—helping tend the fire for the women’s sweat lodge, which was going to take place the following Saturday. What an honour! I agreed to help, and thought I’d better get an idea of what was involved. So I went to the first sweat of the IWGG gathering, held on Tuesday, April 14th. This was the second gift of the east.

Meeting the Grandfathers

When I got to the place of the sweat lodge, located under the magnificent oak trees, Grandfatherbeside a creek, I sat down with the others who were waiting, took off my shoes, and nestled my toes into the sand. I had not been in a sweat lodge since about 1993, and I was looking forward to seeing how the heat felt to me now. Munro Sickafoose, the netkeeper for the WGC, was pouring water for the sweat. This meant he was running everything that happened inside the sweat lodge (from the human incarnate end—spirit was really running what happened). A beautiful man named Dirk Johnston was the firekeeper, who ran what happened outside of the sweat, preparing the fire to heat the rocks, and transporting them into the sweat lodge. These heated rocks are called the grandfathers, and the firekeeper communes with these rocks and in a sense is responsible for how the sweat goes. It is a sacred and mysterious duty.

It turned out that I was the oldest woman at the sweat lodge, so Munro asked me to sit beside him in the lodge, since his wife wasn’t there, and to put cedar on each grandfather stone as it came into the lodge. I felt very honoured to do this. We were taught what to say as we entered the lodge: Aho matakwe-asin! All my relations! After entering we crawled on our hands and knees in a clockwise direction to take our places around the edges of the lodge. There was a pit in the middle, ready to receive the grandfathers. When we were all inside, Munro asked Dirk to bring in 9 grandfathers. Dirk brought in the first rock, glowing red and clearly visible in the darkness of the sweat lodge. He said “Aho, matakwe-asin! Grandfather, come on in!” Munro guided the pitchfork and placed the rock in the pit in the middle. Now it was my job to sprinkle a little bit of dried cedar leaves on the rock. The herb sparkled as it struck the heated red stone, and the scent began to tickle our noses, creating an immediate feeling that something sacred was happening.

Glow rockSo it went, as Dirk brought each grandfather in. “Aho, matakwe-asin! Grandfather, come on in!” As I sprinkled the herb on each one, I offered a blessing to it. And I fell in love with these glowing grandfather rocks, and with this sacred ceremony from the first peoples of this land.

Munro told us there would be four rounds. The first round was for calling in the ancestors and spirits. The second round was for praying. The third round was for healing. And the final round was the “going home” round. At the beginning of each round, more rocks would be brought in. During the round, Munro would pour water on the rocks to create steam, increasing the heat in the sweat lodge. To be continued…

Learning and transformation — ouch!

Relaxing after the fast, in Tucson: Georgie & Kate (Ukraine) and Lerato, Scotch, & Leana (South Africa)I wasn’t always a happy camper at the 4th International Wilderness Guides Gathering, held in Arizona’s Chiricahua Mountains this April. Previous gatherings have been held in Germany, South Africa, and the UK. People from these countries attended, and many more besides. The gathering was hosted by the Wilderness Guides Council, a North American organization of which I am a member. It was wonderful to meet fellow guides, and to feel I belong to this group of people who are passionate about connecting with the earth and helping others undertake the rite of passage known as the vision fast or vision quest. However, there is a shadow side to every event, and any kind of learning and expansion frequently involves discomfort.

The next gathering, in 2012, will be in the Ukraine. It is wonderful to know that wilderness work is growing strong in many places around the world. The Ukrainians’ plea to host the next gathering was magical. Georgie drew the sign of the four directions in the earth, and it seemed obvious that the Ukraine is the place of the east, where the next gathering should be. Those present could clearly feel the strength of his desire to support wilderness work such as the vision quest to take root again in the Ukraine, where it has been virtually lost as a practice among the people there. It was very moving to witness the gathering of about 120 people sit in council together and reach the decision to meet in the Ukraine next time. Siberia is reputed to be the birthplace of shamanism, and my family has roots in the formerly German Mennonite community of Zaporojie, in the Ukraine, so I was especially moved to know that the guides of the world will gather there to help rebuild lost connections to the ways of the earth.

After the gathering, Tom Quinton (from Big Sur) offered a guides’ renewal fast, which I went to, and there the basecamp was also held by Gillian Wilton from South Africa, and Heorhiy (Georgie) Kushnir from the Ukraine. The nine guides fasting were from Canada, the UK, the US, the Ukraine, Germany, and Australia. Wow! Has such a thing ever happened before?

Over the next few weeks I will be writing about my experiences at the guides gathering and the renewal fast. I am going to begin with my first journal entry:

2009 April 12, after dark, everyone else asleep…

Cow poo and prickly things at my fasting siteHere I am at the IWGG in a campground in the Chiricahua Mountains. At the moment I hate it. It’s very cold. There’s a bunch of people crowded into each campsite. Corinna is snoring away so I’ll have to wear earplugs. I just put them in but they haven’t fully expanded yet. Just as I was settling in I found a giant spider in my tent and had to remove it…

And thus the trip began with the discomfort that severance from the clean, familiar, and warm comforts of home always brings. This was the lesson I learned on one of the first medicine walks I ever did, and it continues to be something I forget and relearn. Spending time in nature, on uneven surfaces, with bugs and temperature fluctuations and prickly things, is UNCOMFORTABLE! Every time, I need to find a way to GET OVER IT! Afterwards I remember the beautiful connections with people and the land, the ceremonies, the animals, the inner growth. But at the time, I am mostly focused on the DISCOMFORT. I guess this is the way of the ego.

One last glimpse of winter

Kat on a cold tin roofI seem to be a little reluctant to make the turn into spring. So here’s one last look at the winter of ’08. This is my sister Katherine, shoveling snow off the roof of her shed in Horsefly, BC. This picture was taken in March! That’s a lot of snow. That’s her dog, Sam, in the snow below.

I’m going to Arizona to meet with a gathering of wild folks who call themselves wilderness guides. The gathering is in the Chiricahua Mountains, in bear country! After the gathering I am staying to do a guides renewal fast. Four days and nights of fasting from human company, food, and built shelter. It feels like I have been going through the severance phase already, as I tied up all the loose ends here at home and prepared for the trip. Today after I dropped Donald off with friends who will be looking after him I noticed the sadness of leaving the familiar and comfortable behind. I missed my kitty!

Severance is an important step on the journey, because we have to let go of the familiar to leave an empty space for something new to emerge within us. But it is not a comfortable place to be in. Yet we must sever ourselves from our people to cross the threshold of the vision fast ceremony. We must leave the safety and comfort of the coccoon in order to grow, learn, and ultimately bring our gifts back to our people.

So I must sever from this blog until my return. Be well, dear readers, and may you blossom in the spring sunshine.