Wednesday, September 7, 2011

September 2, 2011

Allow me to tell a story now. It’s just past 11pm. We have my sisters and my nieces here as usual, plus the people and pets that come with them, who have joined us for the holiday weekend. I am in bed, thinking about the day and how much homework I have to do in the morning. I can hear my sisters singing at the campfire. They range in their song choices from sweet to sacreligious, but I can hear them, I can make out their individual voices like they are my own. I can see the glow of the campfire, and smell the comforting smoke. I taste tears in the back of my throat, and I remember.

The year 2000, I moved back to the Twin Cities from my failed experiment called “college”, with no direction and no hope. I fell into despair. I was enticed to go to a spiritual retreat and participate in “The Sacred Hunt”, for lack of a better description, this is an intense ritual/ceremonial/physical experience where fasting and physical activity are engaged in order to seek the divine. I planned from January to participate in this event in August of that year. The week of the event, I fasted, I prayed, I went to the sweatlodge, I cried, I anguished, I thought about driving home. And then it was time to hunt. The elder who gives the blessing before the hunters go to the woods for their travail, grasped my shoulders and said, “Do this for your Sisters.”

I know that she did not just mean those heathens outside with the angelic voices, she meant all women. You see I’ve been a big sister for a long time, and I’m good at it. This is what I bring. Some women are good wives, good mothers, good daughters, I am not; I am a Sister.

The trappings of these elaborate type of ceremonies no longer hold an appeal for me. They have been hijacked by people who don’t care much or want to have understanding and knowledge about them. The elder who looked into my eyes and spoke the words of the Divine to me, is actually a drug addict, still revered in some similar groups, but essentially pitiful. But the truth of my Sacred Hunt remains.

My sisters singing to the dark night, by a cozy fire, living in harmony and always with me, is my secret dream. Serving and sacrificing for my world of Sisters is my life’s work and calling.

1 comment:

  1. I remember this hunt.I will always remember you and the powerfulness of this ritual. But all things have a time and a place. The time for this ritual has passed. We have both moved to very different places now but I am honored to have been there when the magic that was worked brought you to this place now. You are right , you are a big sister. But you are also my sister and that of many others in the community. Blessed Be

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