Instead, I have accepted an invitation to join my sister Psalm Isadora on the Pine Ridge Reservation of South Dakota; to remember and honor the indigenous ways through the Sun Dance. Being in ceremony where the warriors make sacrifice to the Great Mystery and the Tree of Life by piercing and tearing off their skin as an offering for the good of the tribe - this is where I am being called to celebrate my “in deepened/deep end dance”.
The dance officially begins today with Tree Day, but since I started my moon a week early this full moon day – I have given myself permission to move slowly and tie up loose ends before I depart. I hear my mother’s voice in the back of my head knowing she would worry about me driving in the dark. But I have my own ceremony to prepare; a strong sense of urgency to bring to completion and honor to what has been in the recent months and leave the space open for a new chapter to emerge when I return.
The relaxed pace gives me the time to put in calls to my Medicine Women sisters – I check in for protocol, what to wear, offerings to bring any other important pieces that I should know before I head out. I finally take to the road after “rush hour” and drive till midnight, stopping at a KOA and texting a picture of the campground address on the plaque to my friend. Since my Mom doesn’t get texts, she would want someone to know where I am in case I turned up missing. As she writes on my facebook wall time and time again – “Drive safely, ‘cause I love you” I hear her voice always, I ask her not to worry, but she can’t help herself… the love of a mother, one can never know until she is one I suppose. I set my iPhone alarm for 5:30 am and climb in the back of my car to catch a few hours of sleep before I meet up with Psalm and Company on the reservation.
As the day breaks, I take care of my morning business and once again head out on the road. Along the way I stop and encounter a decomposing Snake, flattened and outlined by the last of its oozing Spirit and innards. Soon after, I get stopped by the Nebraska Highway Patrol with a warning for driving 71 in a 65. I give silent thanks to the snake for slowing me down by at least 10 mph and giving it’s life to communicate it’s message.
As I turn the corner onto BIA Highway 2 and head down the Big Foot Trail, I am overcome with sorrow and loss. The land and the ancestors are screaming their story in the deafening silence. Those who have come before us, the forgotten wisdom calling, “See me, remember me. Hear me.” I pass the sign memorializing the Massacre at Wounded Knee. Ah, no wonder...
I continue to drive through what appeared to be a Ghost Town, the native people sitting on the door steps, drinking from bottles, waiting for something that has long since gone away – it appears to me that there is little hope of its return – whatever it is. My tears are flowing steadily now and I stop to gather myself at the Gas Station/Subway Restaurant before the last stretch to the Lakota Prairie Lodge. A young girl standing next to me at the sink in the restroom asks if I know anyone that would be interested in purchasing a size one white dress with a flower - she has one for sale. I immediately see the image of a baptism dress – the shadow of the Catholic church and it’s footprint on the reservation. As I leave, another native women calls for me to come see her wares – a single strand of plastic beads make up a bracelet. I am overcome once again with grief for the forgotten wisdom.
I pull into the Lodge at 10:08 and once again silently giving thanks for the slightest glimmer of grace. 108 energy meridians connect to the heart - walk in beauty. Thank you, for the reminder. Through the open window Psalm calls out, “that you ma?” and I walk in as if I saw her yesterday - my sister, my grappling hook to courage and strength. I recount my journey, the sadness, the tears, the sense of loss on the land. Psalm shares the message given by Medicine Man Mike in the pre-ceremonial sweat. “We are here to give sweat and give blood to keep our way of life alive. Pray hard." I think to myself, “hard is an understatement”...
We visit for a bit and prepare to head out for the day. I transfer my tampons into my day pack and everyone gasps at once. Oh no, you are on your cycle??!! You can’t go to the dance… In that first moment, I exclaim – you’ve got to be kidding me? You never told me?!! Everyone agrees that it is the first thing Psalm told them and can not believe I hadn’t heard! And yet, a deeper knowing inside my heart was present. I was called to be there for a reason, this much is clear. We say our goodbyes, Psalm assuring everyone that I would find a sacred spot to bust out my magic rocks and connect in ceremony, “a good witch she is, she’ll be guided”.
I lay down and fall into a deep, deep slumber and awaken hours later. The room, stifling – the windows still open, is like a sauna. I am soaked in sweat and feel so heavy I can barely move. I know I must go out and connect with the land so I close the windows, turn on the air conditioner and take a cold shower before heading out to explore the Badlands.
As I drive East on BIA 2, I pass a hand painted billboard that read, “Our 1st graders are drug free” Wow, what an accomplishment – so this is life on the reservation?! I consider what it must be like for these people and decide that I would probably drink and take drugs too. Who wouldn’t medicate when their Soul has been lost – or rather, stolen. Independence, hmmm.
I enter the park and find an obscure road off the beaten path where I park, open the hatch and climb in the back to fall into yet another deep slumber. I bake in the sun of the Badlands, my Medicine Bundle in my arms, I’m protected and held as lifetimes are released – dead to the world.
Later that evening, after Psalm and the others arrive back to the Lodge she tells me that this is where she comes to do her deep shadow work. Hearing this from the woman who hangs out with Kali on a regular basis, I now understand why I can barely lift my head off the pillow. I drift back to sleep and am awoken in the middle of the night by shooting pain in my left Knee. Wounded Knee…
Psalm is already gone when I rise the next morning. She has brought the matriarch of the medicine man’s family into Sioux Fall’s to pickup more supplies for all of her guests. I hear my own lineage calling me home. I know it is time for me turn around and go back. The week ahead will be full and I can not justify staying. I will continue my ceremony back in Salt Lake. I drive 24 hours to be on the reservation for the same – I cry in the wonder of it all, still knowing this adventure is part of my initiation and connection to this great land with much history to share. I know that I will return another time.
I head west and stop for Ceremony at the overlook above Wounded Knee and then at the Memorial gravesite where the bodies were piled en masse. I leave a prayer tie on the fence, an offering – a promise, a tobacco tie to send a smoke signal to the ancestors of the land. I hear you and I will share your message…
Are you listening?
The Elders are speaking.
In Remembrance of the lives they gave for us to be here
Can you hear it?
Can you hear it?
The Elders are Praying
Remembrance of the sacred ways
Remembrance of the sacred ways
Their Voices Living Through UsHear this messageSit in the stillness of eternity
Clear the lenses of your perceptionClear the filters of your pastUnwind the ancient story
Live in the light of your truth
Find peace within and radiate it out.
There is no time for questioning
Be only a vessel for this wisdom
Deeply guided and supported
Honoring your Connection
Choosing to live so we can live through you
Choosing to live so we can live through you
