Talking Stones

               We respectfully refer to the hot stones coming into the lodge as Grandmother and Grandfather, Stone People, or Old Ones. The stones are a living repository of ancient wisdom, and they communicate with us in a variety of ways.   The hot stones come in on the end of a pitchfork, and the person bringing them in does his or her best to put them in the pit instead of somewhere else.  Nonetheless, they sometimes roll outside the pit where people are sitting, causing a scramble.  Last Friday night the first stone landed in the north, right in front of my husband Charlie.  Its end popped off, revealing a glowing red interior, and rolled onto his towel.  The stone seemed as if it were looking at him with a big, red eye.  The glow gradually faded to gray.  Charlie said it was telling him that he needed to pay attention.  

               In traditional Lakota lodges, the stones are placed with utmost care in all the directions, with the first one in the center.  This stands for Wakan-tan-ka, or Creator, at the center of all that is.  In our lodge, we let the stones and spirits decide where the first one will go.  The directions represent different powers, or medicine.  The direction of the first stone lets us know what the emphasis of the lodge will be that night.   One time the stone-getter efficiently scooped up three of them from the fire at once and tossed them in the pit.  They scattered in a line, from southeast to northwest.  “I don’t have the slightest idea what this means,” I said, knowledgeably.  It was after sunset when we got out, and one of our lodge members looked up and said, “Look!  It’s just like the stones!”  There, from southeast to northwest, glowing in a bright line across the sky, were three planets: Jupiter, Mars and Venus.  I was awed.  I’ve pondered it ever since, and I still don’t know what it means – this reflection of earth and sky.

               The stones and the spirits seemed to be trying to tell us quite a lot last Friday.  In the third round, one stone shot off a hot fragment which hit a participant in the lip.  He knew what it meant. “The stones are telling me I need to stop talking.  I don’t think I like that.”  The stones and spirits have taught me about a love that doesn’t pull punches, but not any more than necessary.  I feel like I can trust a love like that.  It’s helped explain my life.  At yet another point in the lodge, an incoming stone rolled right at someone.  Really, you don’t know how fast you can move when either a hot stone is coming your way or you discover a rattlesnake.  She exclaimed, “That woke me up!”  I suspect it was an important life message.

               The stones also get us to pay attention by making noises after dippers of water are poured on them.  One time a Hopi man came to the lodge, and played a whistle made from an eagle bone.  Bald eagles don’t make a noble screaming cry like a hawk.  Instead, they have a little cheeping twitter.  This is what the eagle bone whistle sounds like.  Sometimes the sound of the eagle comes out of the stones after water has been poured.  Usually I feel like I put one foot forward after another into the darkness in this world, never knowing where I’m going or if I’ve got it right.  When I hear the eagle bone whistle in the stones, I take it as loving validation and I give thanks to the spirits.

               Another way the Grandmothers and Grandfathers tell us things is to just tell us.       One time I was out on vision quest in the desert, inadvisably in August.  It was a fantastic place, loaded with the spirits of the people who once inhabited that area.  It was also very hot.  The temperature cooled down some at night, and there was a slight breeze out at the rim of the cave.   I wanted to sleep there, but right overhead was a big, hanging rock with a crack around the top.  I became obsessed with it.  I imagined how it would be if it fell on me during the night.  I would be squashed.  How would it feel?  Would I know that it happened, or would it be too fast?   Maybe they would never find me.  So I put my pad in the back where it was hot and tried to sleep.  While I was lying there, a thought that was not mine entered my head, “It’s not ready (to fall) yet.”  I heard the truth along with the words, and made the decision to go with it.

               I am utterly disarmed by the caring love of Something bigger than I am, and my allegiance is total.  Back when I was young, insane and self-destructive, the way Creator captured my attention was to send me a thought after a near-miss: “I can’t do anything with you if you’re dead.”  It seems like such a small thing to turn a life around.