Traveling with Coyote 2B

The eldest of my cousins was one of the most Earth savvy people alive, this was demonstrated in the ways he taught me every day. He had overseen my daily tutelage in the more practical ways of our Ancestors.  He was to go into the Army soon, I realized, trying not to be sad, by refusing to acknowledge this would happen.
It was successful, right now, I guessed.  It was not until now, again on the eve of my first Clan initiation, that my father’s return to Korea also came running into my consciousness.  In its simplest consideration, these men of peace, would live the lives of our ancestors over again.  That was an honorable path.  Now, I wondered, I was learning ceremony, prophecies, and mythological structure.

Of course, I told myself, this had to be part of it.  To participate in these initiations was to return life to peace.  I would be seeing new things into the future of a new world.  We would come close to the Great Coming Together and the memories beyond.

My natural curiosity made me wonder about the 13 Sacred Mirrors, the stories that were our guidelines in life.  It would be good to see prophecies being fulfilled, the Way of We.

Yes, the initiation might well help me understand my dreams and put my feelings of inadequacies to rest.  It would be better when it was seen, there could be no doubt.
I distracted my thoughts by thinking again of the wolf.  Strikes the Enemy had taught me the yang’ai technique, last year.  The silent calling, telepathy, had brought a wolf pup to play with in my early mornings by the pond.

I wondered if the wolf here at the initiation was one and the same.  My cousin, as I had somehow known he would do, tracked the wolf after the lodge was over.  Most wouldn’t be caught in the darkness with a wolf in the vicinity, but my cousin was a master shapeshifter.  This morning, he had brought news to me that the wolf was okay, and not to worry, but focus on the task at hand.  I somehow had diverted my attention in learning the steps and protocols of the energy of the ceremony.

I was learning that major ceremonies, like this initiation, carried an assortment of rituals.  At first, I had assumed that the selection was based on the level of achievement the initiates were in.  Yet, the pattern of the ceremony never changed, year after year.  What changed was my perspective as I grew and retained more, my responsibilities and leadership roles, did so as well.

I opened my heart of hearing to the conversations floating around me.  And then it happened.  By the next day, I had observed everything being done was a progression teaching.  Again, I marveled at the provision efficiency of these group ceremonies.

The rest of the day those approaching the third phase of these teachings were being asked the question by our elders… would they choose the plant or the arrowhead necklace as their Path of Destiny.  I noted that all of our family sported the arrowhead necklace worn as a choker over our thymus.  Other young people were choosing pachua… Grandmother Snake Flower.  I had heard she was a difficult ally to have.

Normally, there would be 4-6 initiates my age, and I wondered for a moment at the number…6 this year.  Then I wondered if the excited and hushed conversations between the elders might reveal the truth.  I worked to refocus my ya’odishiyo… from where we look out, gazing with an overlaying vision screen.

I snapped out of it when one man, a tall, quiet elder, with a flute slung over his back saw me.  A quiver of electricity told me he knew what I was doing.  Grandfather’s entire demeanor reflected his life.  He was a living relic of the Apache Wars.  I gathered that he understood what was happening, not only in my mind, but also my dad’s and Strikes the Enemy’s.

As for Grandpa, he had become a man of peace after a run at hatred and being a renegade.  He even had a price on his head for a while.  He, in the short time I’d known him, carried prophecy as his faith.  He would tell the story every Winter Solstice of being at the Cibeque Massacre with his mother and father, and listening to the Dreamer, Nochaydelklinne sharing his vision of the future.

“That’s a nice offering, Moon Fire!  You honor three elders?”

I smiled to myself as I scooped the little bundles up.  It had been a good day.  My memories were being created in the heart of my family’s love.

It was not unusual; I suppose that I would imagine my cousins’ initiations in previous years.  Here, around a simple fire, in our regalia, with the sounds of nature and humans merging, everything was sublime.

There was comfort in the way I felt.  There was optimism and a future.  It would set the tone of my life.  I took a deep breath.  Could it be I was experiencing what the future could be?  Or was I just beginning to experience my medicine power?  Or were these two thoughts the same thing?  I wished for a moment I could have a marathon discussion with Grandpa.

It was okay, I finally decided.  Grandpa had enough to do right now, but at least I was considering possibilities.  Possibilities about what we were doing, my life unfolding, and my mission.  Right now, was all that mattered, and magic was unfolding.

I rose, put my presents in my backpack, lay down on my blanket, and snuggled down into it’s warmth to gaze at the stars and dream.