Twilight Covening, day 3: main ritual
Nov. 5th, 2003 01:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mattlistener[10/12]
(Text on card in LJ-pic: "Adventure". From the Osho Zen Tarot.)
I noticed a difference in myself in the preparations space, compared to prior years. Instead of getting into an airy, trancy kind of state, I went another direction entirely -- finding myself very grounded, alert, ready for action, plugged into my surroundings. My solid clan experience thus far had left me in a very good mood and highly receptive to whatever came next. It's a blessing my clan was called second (along with the Reindeer), I don't think I could have been readier than that!
Outside, it had gotten dark, and the stars were plentiful. The elder there asked us to have our blindfolds handy, and then took me by the hand to a field of candles, saying "follow the path of light."
Follow the path of light. As I approached the patternless field, made out a corridor starting to my right, and began to walk it, my reaction to those words was very strong. Follow the path of light. That's what I do. I felt choked up, on the verge of tears, but not with sadness. With truth, perhaps. I feel it some as I write, even. Like I'm acknowledging something in myself that has been too-little acknowledged.
I observed my reaction with some surprise, coming out of it mostly, then went around a corner in the path, went back in. I walked the path of light, and felt it, emerging at the other end feeling happy, grounded, alert, plugged in -- even more so than before.
There I was asked to put my blindfold on, the others joining me gradually, silently. We heard a spiritual-journey kind of story that I didn't attend to much, because I was paying more attention to myself, and the feel of the hands to my right and left.
Much of what followed involved going blindfolded through the woods, in a line, hands on the shoulders of the person in front of us. I went right into tai chi walking mode, which has numerous advantages -- my weight isn't committed until I'm sure of my footing, my feet go to the sides as they go forward so I don't kick the feet of the person in front of me, and also I can walk much closer to them, and thus pick up more information through them about what's coming up.
We had done a bunch of blindfold line-walking the year before, so I think people were pretty comfortable with the kind of caterpillar shuffle we collectively got into. However this time we were led a little too fast for that walk, and some of the time we had to stretch out into holding hands ahead and behind. I settled into having my right hand on the left shoulder of the person in front of me, and my left hand on the hand of the person behind me, which was on my left shoulder. This could easily convert to stretched-out as needed.
As we walked between encounters (about which more in a bit), I focused my much-increased attention on sending love ahead of me and behind. "Whoever you are, I'm glad you're with me, and happy to share what I have with you." A warm squeeze, pets with the thumb, subsiding if the person made no response or gave me a "that's enough thanks" kind of gesture back. I think I was in contact with 5 or 6 people at different times; two unreceptive (just mentioned), the other three or four taking it in happily, and sending some back. That too was interesting, receiving loving energy from someone unknown but right next to me.
At one point the line was stopped, and people were led individually off the front. When I was led forward, I was quietly told, "step off into the unknown," and released. At no prior point had I been blindfolded and moving without being in contact with anyone. I took two tai chi steps, spread my arms wide in front of me, and found the wooden side of a cabin. It was at an angle to my path, so I followed it to the left, moving quite quickly with the cabin as a reference, running my hands all over it making little tappy rhythms. I found a tree to my left, ran a hand up it, found a Raven, gave their surprised hand a friendly squeeze hello, bounced along. This bit was over quickly -- I think I practically ran through it compared to most people!
The other thing I did with my extra attention was try to get into rhythm play with nearby Impalas. At one point we were walking along a fence, and I gave it a double-kick before every step with the foot on that side, but we ran out of fence before anyone else came in with anything. At another point we were gathering one by one in a waiting place, still blindfolded, and someone else started a clicky rhythm with some little things. We'd all acquired a rock with ritual significance a bit before, and I came in with a few notes of scraping the rock on the cap of my water bottle poking out of my belt pouch. A few others came in with their rocks, and we had a sweet little jam going for a few minutes. Then the person who'd started dropped out, and he'd been the 1 of the rhythm. I figured he'd been led off alone for the next thing, so I kept up my part. You don't need to hear the 1 after all, just know where it is. Everyone else kept going with me. Then hands were laid on my rock, and I realized someone wanted us to stop so they could address the group (another story). Everyone else dropped out after I did. I enjoyed noticing that it took two interventions to quiet the Impalas down, instead of just the leader.
Somewhere later in the blindfolded journey, our group was drawn into a circle, and formal words were spoken: "This is time out of time, place out of place. Explore as you will in this space, and return when you hear these chimes again. Unbind your eyes." I processed immediately the meaning of that, removed my blindfold, saw lights down the hill to my right, and headed off to explore. When I realized no-one was with me I looked back; every other person in the group of about 10 was still in the tight circle, just removing their blindfolds and catching up to the change in instructions. That was the difference of the state I'd been in since the preparations -- most everyone else was trancy, I was hyper-present. Oh well! I knew what I was about, and went down to explore.
That area came to be referred to later as "Faerie". There were about 30 locations spread out in a wedge down the hill from where we started. Illuminated masks on tree trunks, and in the ground. A reflecting pool surrounded by candles. Candles floating on the water of the lake, connected by strings. A deer skull on a staff, with a horned individual in the shadows beyond. A sparkly bench surrounded by greenery. Black-dressed Ravens lurking on the edges -- "faeries" -- peeking out, throwing pine cones at people, getting into mischief. These focused entirely on folks who responded to them, leaving alone anyone like myself who was doing inward work.
I started visiting everything, stopping at a particular mask that really struck me. It was made of grey-painted bamboo sticks tied tall together, straight stick mouth, critter jawbone nose, critter ribs for cheekbones, blue LEDs for eyes. It was very stern and strong, and immediately fit into the sense of fierceness that I've been working with in recent months (loving fierceness, in myself). I thought of it as "Hrm", and enjoyed its fierceness for a while. I continued on, visiting everything else at least once, came back to Hrm some more, and finally went back up the hill thinking time was almost up. There I was told I could wait nearby, or explore more as I wished, returning at the chimes. I got the sense from the speaker that there was a great deal of time left, so I went back to spend it with Hrm.
This time I started playing around with my perceptions. I tilted my head to the side, and immediately my perception of the face changed to goofy, on the verge of laughing at some private joke. Back to center, fierce -- the kind of fierce that passionately takes a stand for what I believe in, or leaps at someone whom I need to know I'm with them right now. I tried getting down on my knees, looked up, and read -- horrified! The mouth was now gaping open at me in a silent shout of terror.
This astonished me. I stayed with it. "Why are you afraid of me?" I asked the mask. Terror coming back. "Why are you afraid of me?" "Why are you afraid of me?" No change. I took it in. "I have done injury in the past," I admitted, "and may again in the future. But I am at peace with your fear. And I know you are at peace with my fear."
And at that, I didn't see terror in the mask anymore, just fierceness again. I stood up, tilted my head for another look at the goofy underside, made my thanks and went back up the hill.
My best sense of what that was all about: if I'm going to be bringing out more of my fierceness of feeling, I'm going to scare some people. A big step toward being at peace with that.
That was the climax of the journey for me. In the ritual design, the climax was after Faerie, when a group of us was standing blindfolded, arms around each other. A speaker in the middle spoke powerfully of the journey thus far and invited each to say, when she laid her hands on us, what kind of being we were in that moment. I came out with "I am a being of wavy, lovey energy." She'd also said to be a witness when others were saying what kind of being they were, and to "let them hear you" -- those four words emphasized. So I responded with some kind of affirming, acknowledging sound to each person, whatever felt right for what they'd said. I was the only one who did so. I carried on anyway. Fierceness and tenacity.
As I arrived at the ending space and took in what was happening there, one of the women from my clan caught my eye. She gave a funny look, came over to feel my hand, and then abruptly gave me a warm, enthusiastic hug, saying "It was you!! You have the most loving, compassionate hands, thank you." Turns out she'd been in a very unhappy, disconnected place earlier in the journey, and then found her center again in the second half through the touch she got from me in the blindfold-walking line. Wow! Lovely affirmation there for my way of being, plus a new connection -- she said later she really hopes to see me at Feast of Lights. I'd like to see her, too.
Intent for the future: practice approaching people without words. Everything points to this.
-----------
(Anyone just joining -- my prior entries about Twilight are a bit further down.)
(Text on card in LJ-pic: "Adventure". From the Osho Zen Tarot.)
I noticed a difference in myself in the preparations space, compared to prior years. Instead of getting into an airy, trancy kind of state, I went another direction entirely -- finding myself very grounded, alert, ready for action, plugged into my surroundings. My solid clan experience thus far had left me in a very good mood and highly receptive to whatever came next. It's a blessing my clan was called second (along with the Reindeer), I don't think I could have been readier than that!
Outside, it had gotten dark, and the stars were plentiful. The elder there asked us to have our blindfolds handy, and then took me by the hand to a field of candles, saying "follow the path of light."
Follow the path of light. As I approached the patternless field, made out a corridor starting to my right, and began to walk it, my reaction to those words was very strong. Follow the path of light. That's what I do. I felt choked up, on the verge of tears, but not with sadness. With truth, perhaps. I feel it some as I write, even. Like I'm acknowledging something in myself that has been too-little acknowledged.
I observed my reaction with some surprise, coming out of it mostly, then went around a corner in the path, went back in. I walked the path of light, and felt it, emerging at the other end feeling happy, grounded, alert, plugged in -- even more so than before.
There I was asked to put my blindfold on, the others joining me gradually, silently. We heard a spiritual-journey kind of story that I didn't attend to much, because I was paying more attention to myself, and the feel of the hands to my right and left.
Much of what followed involved going blindfolded through the woods, in a line, hands on the shoulders of the person in front of us. I went right into tai chi walking mode, which has numerous advantages -- my weight isn't committed until I'm sure of my footing, my feet go to the sides as they go forward so I don't kick the feet of the person in front of me, and also I can walk much closer to them, and thus pick up more information through them about what's coming up.
We had done a bunch of blindfold line-walking the year before, so I think people were pretty comfortable with the kind of caterpillar shuffle we collectively got into. However this time we were led a little too fast for that walk, and some of the time we had to stretch out into holding hands ahead and behind. I settled into having my right hand on the left shoulder of the person in front of me, and my left hand on the hand of the person behind me, which was on my left shoulder. This could easily convert to stretched-out as needed.
As we walked between encounters (about which more in a bit), I focused my much-increased attention on sending love ahead of me and behind. "Whoever you are, I'm glad you're with me, and happy to share what I have with you." A warm squeeze, pets with the thumb, subsiding if the person made no response or gave me a "that's enough thanks" kind of gesture back. I think I was in contact with 5 or 6 people at different times; two unreceptive (just mentioned), the other three or four taking it in happily, and sending some back. That too was interesting, receiving loving energy from someone unknown but right next to me.
At one point the line was stopped, and people were led individually off the front. When I was led forward, I was quietly told, "step off into the unknown," and released. At no prior point had I been blindfolded and moving without being in contact with anyone. I took two tai chi steps, spread my arms wide in front of me, and found the wooden side of a cabin. It was at an angle to my path, so I followed it to the left, moving quite quickly with the cabin as a reference, running my hands all over it making little tappy rhythms. I found a tree to my left, ran a hand up it, found a Raven, gave their surprised hand a friendly squeeze hello, bounced along. This bit was over quickly -- I think I practically ran through it compared to most people!
The other thing I did with my extra attention was try to get into rhythm play with nearby Impalas. At one point we were walking along a fence, and I gave it a double-kick before every step with the foot on that side, but we ran out of fence before anyone else came in with anything. At another point we were gathering one by one in a waiting place, still blindfolded, and someone else started a clicky rhythm with some little things. We'd all acquired a rock with ritual significance a bit before, and I came in with a few notes of scraping the rock on the cap of my water bottle poking out of my belt pouch. A few others came in with their rocks, and we had a sweet little jam going for a few minutes. Then the person who'd started dropped out, and he'd been the 1 of the rhythm. I figured he'd been led off alone for the next thing, so I kept up my part. You don't need to hear the 1 after all, just know where it is. Everyone else kept going with me. Then hands were laid on my rock, and I realized someone wanted us to stop so they could address the group (another story). Everyone else dropped out after I did. I enjoyed noticing that it took two interventions to quiet the Impalas down, instead of just the leader.
Somewhere later in the blindfolded journey, our group was drawn into a circle, and formal words were spoken: "This is time out of time, place out of place. Explore as you will in this space, and return when you hear these chimes again. Unbind your eyes." I processed immediately the meaning of that, removed my blindfold, saw lights down the hill to my right, and headed off to explore. When I realized no-one was with me I looked back; every other person in the group of about 10 was still in the tight circle, just removing their blindfolds and catching up to the change in instructions. That was the difference of the state I'd been in since the preparations -- most everyone else was trancy, I was hyper-present. Oh well! I knew what I was about, and went down to explore.
That area came to be referred to later as "Faerie". There were about 30 locations spread out in a wedge down the hill from where we started. Illuminated masks on tree trunks, and in the ground. A reflecting pool surrounded by candles. Candles floating on the water of the lake, connected by strings. A deer skull on a staff, with a horned individual in the shadows beyond. A sparkly bench surrounded by greenery. Black-dressed Ravens lurking on the edges -- "faeries" -- peeking out, throwing pine cones at people, getting into mischief. These focused entirely on folks who responded to them, leaving alone anyone like myself who was doing inward work.
I started visiting everything, stopping at a particular mask that really struck me. It was made of grey-painted bamboo sticks tied tall together, straight stick mouth, critter jawbone nose, critter ribs for cheekbones, blue LEDs for eyes. It was very stern and strong, and immediately fit into the sense of fierceness that I've been working with in recent months (loving fierceness, in myself). I thought of it as "Hrm", and enjoyed its fierceness for a while. I continued on, visiting everything else at least once, came back to Hrm some more, and finally went back up the hill thinking time was almost up. There I was told I could wait nearby, or explore more as I wished, returning at the chimes. I got the sense from the speaker that there was a great deal of time left, so I went back to spend it with Hrm.
This time I started playing around with my perceptions. I tilted my head to the side, and immediately my perception of the face changed to goofy, on the verge of laughing at some private joke. Back to center, fierce -- the kind of fierce that passionately takes a stand for what I believe in, or leaps at someone whom I need to know I'm with them right now. I tried getting down on my knees, looked up, and read -- horrified! The mouth was now gaping open at me in a silent shout of terror.
This astonished me. I stayed with it. "Why are you afraid of me?" I asked the mask. Terror coming back. "Why are you afraid of me?" "Why are you afraid of me?" No change. I took it in. "I have done injury in the past," I admitted, "and may again in the future. But I am at peace with your fear. And I know you are at peace with my fear."
And at that, I didn't see terror in the mask anymore, just fierceness again. I stood up, tilted my head for another look at the goofy underside, made my thanks and went back up the hill.
My best sense of what that was all about: if I'm going to be bringing out more of my fierceness of feeling, I'm going to scare some people. A big step toward being at peace with that.
That was the climax of the journey for me. In the ritual design, the climax was after Faerie, when a group of us was standing blindfolded, arms around each other. A speaker in the middle spoke powerfully of the journey thus far and invited each to say, when she laid her hands on us, what kind of being we were in that moment. I came out with "I am a being of wavy, lovey energy." She'd also said to be a witness when others were saying what kind of being they were, and to "let them hear you" -- those four words emphasized. So I responded with some kind of affirming, acknowledging sound to each person, whatever felt right for what they'd said. I was the only one who did so. I carried on anyway. Fierceness and tenacity.
As I arrived at the ending space and took in what was happening there, one of the women from my clan caught my eye. She gave a funny look, came over to feel my hand, and then abruptly gave me a warm, enthusiastic hug, saying "It was you!! You have the most loving, compassionate hands, thank you." Turns out she'd been in a very unhappy, disconnected place earlier in the journey, and then found her center again in the second half through the touch she got from me in the blindfold-walking line. Wow! Lovely affirmation there for my way of being, plus a new connection -- she said later she really hopes to see me at Feast of Lights. I'd like to see her, too.
Intent for the future: practice approaching people without words. Everything points to this.
-----------
(Anyone just joining -- my prior entries about Twilight are a bit further down.)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-11-05 05:11 am (UTC)i had a terrible time with the fae space - there were certainly ravens playing games with people, but there were also spirits in the place curious and game playing as well*. (ask ted to tell you sometime about settig up that space - wow.)
i'm trying to place which mask was Hrm - do you remember where in the space it was?
*and as is often the case, i tend to attract the cranky ones - it was unpleasant at best, though in talking to lots of people about it i seem to be the only one who had things-out-of-nightmare experience, or the only one who was talking about it.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-05 09:06 am (UTC)Cranky spirits in fae -- ouch. Sounds like you got messed with in an unwelcome fashion?
Hrm was down the hill on the right, one shy of the rightmost location, a bit uphill from the reflecting pool and the monkey face in the ground. Looking at it, uphill was on my left.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-05 06:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-05 09:07 am (UTC)Wow!
Date: 2003-11-05 06:46 am (UTC)Go Herd!
Re: Wow!
Date: 2003-11-05 09:37 am (UTC)Glad to know it, Mark -- thanks!
no subject
Date: 2003-11-05 08:48 pm (UTC)Warm, lovey hands...
Date: 2003-11-07 02:24 pm (UTC)See you at Feast of Lights!
Brightest Blessings,
Anakae