Journey into Vastness 1A

 
 I watched the older child as we harvested feathers, trying to gather my share.  I was mesmerized.  There were things happening that I was finally old enough to participate in.

First was his flawless chanting of the Directions.  He was ten years my senior.  Yet I was so new at this.  I’d attended the final days of ceremony since I was very young.  This moment, however, I was participating in the re-enactment of our stories.  Each year, those who had turned six were able to join the guardians to perpetuate life.

Surely, the excitement of this first would be something to grow and explore.  What would be next?

A brief thought crossed my mind that with a little prompting, I might be able to get Sun Wolf to tell the story about the feathers.  But no, my cousin was not offering up anything until it was in the prescribed timing.  For over a year now, Sun Wolf had tended to the needs of the spotted eagle these feathers belonged to.

I looked more closely at my cousin.  If he could scale the Spirit Cliffs to capture the baby, he must be very powerful.  I tried to imagine what it would be like to climb to the eagle’s nest built into the side of the cliff.  Sun Wolf was thin and lanky, and it was hard to imagine it.  But he did, and the reception he received from our other cousins when he delivered the eaglet to Grandpa in April, demonstrated how proud they all were.  He was the closest in age to me, and now was my guardian.

My curious gaze met his solemn glance, and I got back to the task at hand.  It would be irreverent to talk while gathering the feathers to make our visual prayers.  Probably a little dangerous too.  The eagle, now 19 months old, was perched directly above us – tethered to his stand – could he reach us on the ground below if he was startled?  It didn’t take long before I was chanting, learning the words, as I gave gratitude for the ways of the Sacred Parents.  The eagle would be released during the boys’ dance over the Summer Solstice.  Sun Wolf would then take it home to the tree below the Spirit Cliff, where the juvenile males liked to go hang out, and release it.

I looked at the handful of feathers in my tiny hand.  Would they be used for individual prayer feathers, or the thunder stick?  There were so many possibilities.  The Ancestors would be proud of my meager harvest, no matter.  Thus, it would be prudent for anyone receiving these feathers, if I give my gathering task, it’s just commitment.  Ah, what should I say?  A more experienced apprentice would know the right words.  True, I had heard many, but dang if I could remember now.

Beyond helping Sun Wolf gather the feathers that would become offering, I’d be learning how the altar was made, and hearing the rendition of the Creation Story where each of All My Relations received their Warrior’s Task Assignments.  That’s our purpose.  Why we are here.  Our collective purpose was to be Guardians of Life, which it seemed most of the world had forgotten.  Coyote[1], one of the Ancestors of my clan… was sure doing a dancing around their minds.

My hand grasped the feathers clumsily, trying to gather more.  I saw with purpose that Sun Wolf was placing small duff feathers in a basket.  These would be saved for my ceremony!

When we reached the time when the Crack in the Universe would open, I would be ushered into the Sacred Lodge with others my age that were also going through the initiation. 

The basket of feathers would be taken care of by the Elders in a few days.  It was about to get really busy around our house.  I had already seen elders of Wolf, Deer, Bear and Eagle Clans camping down by the waterfalls in our canyon.

It seemed that this was a very important year, with a lot of hushed conversations.  I decided it was nothing I needed to worry about.  In keeping with my responsibilities, I decided to focus.  It might not be relative, but if it was, I’d find out later.
I was feeling somewhat important after placing my feathers in the appropriate baskets for further sorting. I was very attentive to this process.  Feathers were sorted by sizes, side of body, and even further into wing, body and tail feathers.

“What about this one, Sun Wolf?” I asked.  “It’s all cut up?”

Sun Wolf looked at me for a moment, then jutted his chin toward the feather[2], “Those are the marks of a warrior that has survived and carries great courage.”

Strange, I thought.  Sun Wolf made it clear these were probably more desirable than the pristine feathers in my grasp.  And if these tattered samples of courage were more sacred, what about things of perfection?

Then another thought occurred to me, recalled from the Creation Story… so many times I would account the story before falling asleep at night.  The imagery of Grandpa reciting his version, while fire light danced to his well performed characterizations… Coyote… Sun Wolf… the Mother of our lineage, my cousin a continuance of the power.  The story told of Coyote, the Trickster, being given the task of teaching humanity the fallacy of being locked in the search for perfection.  Perhaps this task also pertained to lineage keepers of the name that followed.  True, the Trickster and All His Relations are a continuing theme in our family.  The greatest teacher was always a coyote.

“Bless us yusn, Giver of All Life, we are the Children of Earth.  Bless us that we may see our path.  Bless us that we may breathe in the essence.  Bless us so we are connected.  Bless us that we are committed in our purpose.  Bless our Mother, esonkñhsendehí, who births humanity and brings forth all of Creation.  Bless us in our walk of many lives.”  Sun Wolf spoke the words as the feathers were placed on the altar.

“Tomorrow you will learn to make your first pahó,” he said in a playful nature.  “There will be many elders and guardians here!”  He pointed down the canyon and laughed, the campfires flickering in the darkness.

I was excited now.  If I watched Sun Wolf’s example, I would learn when reverence was called for, and when I could relax and just be.  I was learning protocol.

“It’s time to enter the Dream,” Sun Wolf’s voice echoed my thoughts.  “Let’s sleep here tonight.  It’s warm enough.”

With a spinning circle, he tossed a saddle blanket on the ground and motioned for me to lay down.  I was very small for six years of age, and I was able to burrito myself in the blanket.  And I watched Sun Wolf prepare a space for himself.

I stretched, my body shifting to get comfortable.  Sun Wolf straightened and looked at me for a moment.

“I gotta check the water at the barn,” he said simply.  Then he was gone, with scarcely a sound in the soft dirt of the path.

I awoke sometime later to find Grandfather Sun overhead, the spotted light filtering through the pine trees.  The day was warm and pleasant.  You’d never know it was November.

I turned my head to look toward our barn.  Sun Wolf had gotten up early to attend to his chores, and mine.  I had been relieved of all responsibilities for the duration of my clan initiation.  In the barn I saw my cousin mucking stalls, and a curious blue jay cocked his head on the fence nearby.  I raised to one elbow to watch.  One of my earliest memories was of a similar scene.  Grandpa had hung my cradleboard on the fence while morning chores were done.  Many said it couldn’t be a memory from that far back, but Grandpa had praised my recall.  I smiled.  Strange, I didn’t understand why people limited their reality – Now I knew, I was about to find the answers to this, and other questions that tormented my young brain.

A motion caught my eye, and I turned quickly to see Sun Wolf returning.  He handed me a glass of water.  This morning, he looked kind of like a grasshopper, and I choked not to laugh.  Sun Wolf was fluid in this movements.  He drank his coffee.

Suddenly Sun Wolf seemed to remember something…. He turned quickly, the piercing stare boring through me.

“It’s time.  You need to get ready!”

He tossed his coffee and started rolling his blanket up.  Again, I got quiet.  It was time to be reverent.  He picked up my blanket and rolled it up.  I scurried into the house to clean up and change my shirt.  Today we would make pahó! 

Still excited, I bounced out the door to the altar and waited.

[1] whom Sun Wolf was named after…
[2] Native etiquette is clear – no pointing of fingers.  It’s disrespectful.