Ceremonies of Reparation: Ceremony #10

 

Ceremonies of Reparation

 

For those interested in the background of these ceremonies, please refer to the September 8, 2021 blog entry.

 

Ceremony #10, May 30, 2022

 

BACKGROUND

It is another drizzly and rainy morning.  I have driven to a forested area, next to the Cowichan River, that has served as a temporary and transitional “landing place” twice in our moving history.  The first time, we camped for almost three weeks in Stoltz Park after leaving the land from ceremony #3.  Being in a tent, in the fresh cool air, waking to the sound of birds and the rising of the sun, sleeping when the sky grew dark – it recalibrated something in me.  I was so grateful for the safety of this “landing spot”, albeit temporary.  The second time we were held by these lands was not intended to be temporary, though it quickly and clearly became so.  We, along with many others, were given notice to leave the land of ceremony #5.  For those who may be unaware, housing of any kind (including places to “park” your home) is desperately difficult to find in BC, and affordable housing is even more challenging.  We looked for months, and in an act of hope, we put out a plea on social media.  A woman who did not want to advertise her rental of an RV pad answered our plea and said her former tenant was leaving, would we like to see the spot?

 

Of course, looking back there were numerous “red flags” – however, we were also in a desperate situation.  Her property was incredibly close to the park, which, at the time, felt soothing, though ought to have been the first clue to the temporary nature of our time there.  We stayed a total of 2.5 months.

 

In a mere 2 weeks, a shadow force flowed through. It is sometimes difficult to explain – other than to say that we are each susceptible to the influence of forces, thoughts and intrusive energies or spirits.  Sometimes these intrusions are from our own “shadow” – negative thoughts take hold in parts of us that carry wounds, and will, at times, rule our behaviour and perspective.  Sometimes intrusions come from outside of ourselves – someone else’s negative thoughts or projections take up residence in our psyche and spirit, affecting how we think, feel, and behave.  Sometimes, the spirit of something else can take hold of us, affecting how we interact with the world and ourselves (for example, alcohol is called “spirits” for a good reason.  The Spirit of alcohol can alter a person so significantly when it is “in control” that they no longer “seem themselves.” Loved ones may remark “I don’t recognize him/ her/ them when they are drinking…”)

 

On one particular day, an ill-wind passed through the property, followed by a sudden outburst by the landlady toward my husband. When he stepped into the RV to tell me what happened, his face had turned sallow, his heart was distressed, and he simply said, “I don’t feel safe to be out there right now.”  Within a short time, I was sent a strangely accusatory email with projections “warning me” about him – “did I know he had asked for some sawdust?”  And “please confine yourselves to your fenced area.” After that, we were under constant surveillance, our power turned off daily and checked to make sure we were not drawing too much.  We decided the best way to preserve our sanity and health was to “remain quiet,” look for a new location, and move as soon as possible.

 

We did not spend much daylight time directly on the property.  I would take walks off-property in the neighbouring park and forests. Nightfall was actually quite cherished – once the various residents were settled for the night, we would venture outside to look at the night sky, enjoy the trees, and relax and breathe.

 

On one particular walk, I ventured into forest on a little-used path.  After only walking a short distance, a fallen tree coated in oyster-mushrooms caught my attention.  I walked up to it to admire the sight, and as I stood, I felt the energy of something that had a commanding, authoritative presence.  My eyes took a few moments to see what was “speaking.”  Almost directly in front of me was a single spire of Devil’s Club.  Devil’s Club often has single long and lanky spires with one or two large leaves on the top.  The spires have sharp spikes that coat the branch from base to top.  They also have a distinctive earthy and pungent scent.  I was shocked at how I had not actually seen her until this moment.  And then, as I looked around, I noticed a significant patch of her was growing a little farther away.  Each year, I request of the Devil’s Club to harvest one spire.  I instinctively knew, however, she was not offering herself for harvest.

 

As I turned to my right, there was an old fallen tree that was partially disintegrated into soft detritus. It formed a little hill or mound, and at the base of the mound was a tattered eagle feather.  I reached for the feather and knew that it was a gift – not for me, but for the Devil’s Club.  I turned to the spire, addressed her, and let her know I would return in a few days with the gift in-hand.  Once home, I tied a few pouches of tobacco to the eagle feather, tidying up the tatters and removing the dirt from the spine.

 

And, in a few days, I returned with the feather.  As I gifted it to the Devil’s Club, tying it to the spire, she began to speak.  “You may harvest one branch, but not from here. Walk deeper into the forest, listen, feel, trust.  You will know when you’ve reached the one for harvest.”

 

And so, I followed instructions.  I was not well-equipped to walk the spongy, wet, swamp muck that housed incredible amounts of life and plants.  I attempted to step on fallen logs, find dry places to walk, and avoid getting my feet and sneakers sucked into the muck.  However, the plants kept pulling me here and there, and I was sucked-in more than once.  Then, suddenly, there she was.  A spire of Devil’s Club that had previously broken mid-spire yet remained attached and alive and began to grow upward again, so that the upper portion of the spire was now u-shaped.  She reached out to me at heart and eye level, and simply said “take me.”  I left an offering of herbs, and with a little effort was able to snip the spire at the place of the break.  Walking back out of the muck was a lot easier than finding my way in.

 

This experience was powerful and important – it reinforced that despite some of the shadow forces that we encounter, there are also gifts and support for clear-heart-seeing.

  

CEREMONY: May 30^th, 2022

 

A few weeks before ceremony, the daughter of dear students asked to have some time together making motanky, so we all met at the park for our creation session.  This time together, surrounded by trees and nearby river energy, was infused in the doll.  She is a simple motanka, made with love. The style of the Motanka, for this ceremony, was less important to me.  What was important was the energy of connection that was infused in it because it was this human-heart-connection that I felt was missing from our 2^nd time living/ staying in the area.  I prayed the Motanka serve the land, plants, and all inhabitants, infusing connective love, respect, and kind-regard to the relationships held by those lands. 

 

One pysanka was made during spring rites (the egg written with stars and galaxies ~ symbols of “eternal power” and connection to the cosmic forces), and the other pysanka (the egg written with depictions of trees, Devil’s club, stars, water, and Berehynia (old form of the Great Mother, goddess of life and death, controller of destinies, and also of rain (which brings fertility) was written with another beloved student.  The support and love of each of these people are infused into the gifts for the land. 

 

The day before the ceremony, my husband and I drove to the nearby park.  We stopped our truck on the roadside leading to the park entrance.  He was scouring the ground to see if there were any leaves that he could pick-up for garden mulch.  He, instead, found a little newborn fawn curled in the tall grasses, so close to the road yet well hidden, waiting for mamma deer to return.  I felt this was a beautiful omen before ceremony day.

 

When I arrived, it was a drizzly/ rainy and very wet day.  I walked into the forest and looked for the fallen mushroom-covered tree.  A very similar tree with oyster mushrooms caught my attention.  In fact, most details including a nursing-log mound were the same.  However, I knew this was not the place I had encountered the Devil’s Club.  For one, there were no Devil’s Club spires here.  The tree of the first encounter had been leaning and half-fallen over.  This dead tree was still standing.

 

I gave greeting and thanks and began to walk.  Three times I wandered on and off-path to and from this look-alike site, seeking the original Devil’s Club patch, and each time it eluded me.  And so, I decided to make offering and prayers at the near-duplicate site.

 

The motanka and Berehynia pysanka were buried at the base of the nursing-log mound.  It was the first time I could feel that they wanted to remain quite close to the surface, and so I simply covered them with some of the forest detritus and moss.  I walked in a fourth attempt to find the original site and was called off-path to a particular stump.  I knew I needed to gift the cosmic pysanka to this stump.  I was gently surprised to find the stump was hollow, and walking to the back of it, I found a lovely cave-like opening leading into the centre of the hollow.  I placed the pysanka inside, made prayers and then left.

 

As I began to drive home, I saw something out of the corner of my eye.  A wobbly grey-brown creature was taking its very first steps.  Though clearly just-born, it was quite tall and my eyes did not register, in the 3 seconds of passing by, any other details. The image was seared into my mind and as it replayed over and over, I was trying to understand and name what I saw.  Then it dawned on me.  Every year, a large herd of elk stop in the region to birth.  The little creature was perhaps twice the size of the newborn fawn, a greyer colour, and there were no “spots.” It must have been a newborn elk!  And with this sighting, I knew the ceremony was complete.