South Vision Quest

South Vision Quest

               The day arrived.  The practical and ceremonial items I was taking were packed up, the fire was going for the sweat that would be my exit door into the spirit world, and I had to decide what, if anything, to eat for breakfast.  Some people load up for breakfast on the day they are going out.  This is under the theory that since they aren’t eating any food for four days, they should get as much food in their system as possible.  Plus, they love breakfast.  Others decide four days is so long it makes no difference anyway, so they might as well not bother with breakfast.  Some feel like they’ve already started, so why not already be fasting.  One person spent the night before he went out sleeping under the stars in his backyard, he was so already started.  I think a compromise is good.  I had some orange juice.

               The sweat for going out is small – just one round with seven stones.  We use stones especially gathered for this purpose for both the exit and return sweats.  The stones assist by emanating information, which hopefully enters our heads and hearts.  My stones gave me a sense that all was well, and I didn’t need to worry.  This was great, because I was very worried.  I didn’t feel like I was going out in the beautiful woods to have wonderful experiences with the spirits.  I felt like I was going in front of a firing squad.

Going on vision quest is an exercise in asking for help.  This can make people feel vulnerable, and is therefore difficult to do.  It is especially hard for people who are used to being the ones doing for others, but who never let anyone do anything for them.  I used to be so bad at it, that people were confused after I asked them.  They didn’t understand what it was I wanted, or even if I’d actually asked them to do anything.  Now, I cowboy up pretty well around that; enough so that my guides and a valued friend showed up at the appointed hour to see me off into the spirit world.

               So early in the morning, all five of us squeezed into the small lodge and shut the door blankets.  It was dark except for seven stones, some of which were still glowing red from the fire.  Purifying smoke from burning herbs filled the lodge, and we breathed steam from the sacred water of life coming off the hot stones.  When the purpose of a lodge is to send someone off into the spirit world, the ceremony is different than usual.  Each person says prayers for the person going out, and gives advice and best wishes.  I pay close, respectful attention under those circumstances.  I know what is said will probably be important, and I’m going to be glad I listened.  My husband, Charlie, informed me that he saw a nonexistent hummingbird fly into the lodge before we started.  He also said, “Don’t be distracted by fear.”  I was having some doubts, so it was encouraging that the spirits had sent a vision.  Not being distracted by fear sounded like a course correction for the rest of my life.

               The first stone that came into the lodge that morning landed in the South direction of the stone pit.  It was already clear to me that this vision quest was going to be about the South.  I had a rather odd flash of awareness that I was little more than all the help I have received during my life from other people and Creator.  I hoped this meant I was giving the heave-ho to some of my fear-based ego.  To us, the South direction stands for innocence, gentleness, and vulnerability.  I’m getting the picture that this is a large part of reality for physical creatures, and I need to accept and understand it.

               Emerging from the sweat, I knew there was no backing out now.  Once a ceremony like this has begun, my sense is that forces are in motion and it is best to complete it.  This is out of respect the spirits and the people who are helping.  There are a lot of powers and energies the spirits have arranged around the vision quest, and it seems best to let that river flow the way it is meant to.  

My site was only a couple miles back into the forest, with about a 15 minute hike from the road.  Sometimes people pick outrageous places to do this, involving major driving and trekking over rough terrain.  Those places are terrific and I really get that.  There is no doubt, however, that sites like this one are easier on everybody. One drawback to be aware of with a nearby site is greater temptation to walk out when angry or afraid.

It is important to pay attention in order to not miss something important, even while driving out.  We were in the middle of monsoon season here in Northern Arizona, meaning it rained every day.  This morning the sun was veiled by high, thin clouds.  One of my guides told me that she got a sense of loving safety from the clouds.  Maybe it was the power of suggestion, but I felt it too.  When we got out of the car, a red-tailed hawk flew from the top of a pine tree, calling out an approving welcome.  A black calf, standing alone, began to moo and walk towards us.  One of my guides exclaimed, “It’s your inner child!”  “It is not!  Don’t say things like that!”  At the moment I couldn’t handle the notion of a little doomed creature crying out from my past, possibly wanting something.  All too likely for a South vision quest.

We crawled under some barbwire fences, carefully hefting my things over top, and started walking.  To me, this canyon feels other-worldly; the trees seem particularly aware, and there are a profusion of birds.  Otherwise, it is silent.  We passed a large juniper tree which seemed unusually alert and welcoming.  I thought of it as the Grandmother tree, because it had a feeling of old wisdom about it.  I mentally thanked it.  Many sites seem as if they have a doorway to them, through which only certain things are allowed during vision quest.  This tree seemed to be serving that purpose, and I was grateful.

I was carrying a cardboard tube wrapped with multicolored prayer ties on a long string which I had been working on for months.  Each tie contained a pinch of tobacco and a prayer offered up to Creator.  We unrolled them; up and down the banks of a wash, through brush and trees; encircling the area where I would be staying for the next four days.  This enclosed area is referred to as a prayer bin. When it came time to go, we would roll them back up and burn them in the sweat fire upon our return.

I made a tiny fire out of dried juniper leaves, pine needles and twigs.  Dried juniper leaves contain a lot of volatile oils that are great for starting fires in damp conditions.  Toilet paper is also very good for this but requires less woodcraft.  I put on dried herbs, and we all sat in circle and smudged ourselves with purifying smoke.  I smudged both pipes and the gourd rattle.  One pipe was the deer antler pipe for South medicine, and the other was our lodge pipe with the stem representing Wakan-tan-ka, or Creator and All That Is.   We passed the lodge pipe around, offering it up with prayers of gratitude and humility to Creator and the spirits.  It is customary on vision quest to have a ceremony like this in the morning and the evening of each day.  Smoking the pipe is optional, depending on whether the person gets a feeling that they should or shouldn’t do it.  The lodge pipe was loaded, but I wasn’t planning to smoke it until we passed it around inside the return sweat.  I did this because both the pipe and I were in the spirit world at this point; and in a certain sense, just shadowy, symbolic visitors. It is hard to describe why it didn’t feel right to smoke the pipe, but it’s best to go with the gut in these matters.

There comes a point when the spirits want to get going with what they have in mind for someone on vision quest, and -- recognizing this -- my guides said goodbye and left.  I looked around.  The sun came out, and suddenly I was happy.  I rolled up my sacred objects in a piece of old canvas to protect them from rain.  I tied the ends of my string of prayer ties together.  Then I decided it felt more free-flowing to leave them open, and untied them.  I figured out where I wanted to sleep:  by the edge of a wash under some ponderosa pine trees.  Then I waited expectantly, paying attention to what was going on around me and to my inner process.  On the first day, most people get bombarded with energies from the spirits, and I could feel it happening to me.  Presumably I was being softened up for something. 

My first experience was wonder and delight at the beauty surrounding me: the lovely little flowers, the sparkling pine needles, and the bird calls in the silence.  I noticed the soft green grass, and the sun on subtly colored limestone.  The clouds in the deep blue sky seemed particularly riveting:  I kept feeling turned upside down as if I was looking down at clouds over the ocean.  There was something that seemed… enhanced about this.  I guessed the spirits were showing me the perspective I had as a very young child.  All right, so be it.  I walked around in the open area to the south, feeling the joy of being out in nature without having to return for days.  This was medicine for my spirit.

A light rain started falling, so I strung my canvas tarp, very low from a fallen tree stump and put my stuff under it.  What I’ve heard about the old ways suggests one should sit out entirely exposed to whatever Father Sky dishes out.  Therefore, I felt guilty about the tarp, but I do it every time the weather is rainy unless I’m in a cave.  Since this vision quest, I experimentally sat out unprotected in the cold rain for awhile to see what it would be like.  I got very cold, very fast.  With all due respect for the old ways, I don’t think it would work because we would die from hypothermia. 

During a lodge a couple of weeks prior to going out, I had been given a large influx of South energy – gentle strength – from the spirits.  I must have needed more than usual preparation, making up for serious deficits.  The energy I was now being radiated with should create change and provide helpful information that would come into play at some point.  At least I hoped it would.

After nightfall I tried hard to feel love instead of fear.  “Don’t be distracted by fear“,   Charlie had said.  What if I missed something important because I was too terrified to notice it?  Plus, being in a state of fear is utterly miserable.  I asked the spirits if they could tell me anything helpful towards my efforts against fear.  I got a sense of a white energy barrier coming from the trees and that everything was completely under control.  I tentatively decided to believe this.  I had seen no animals other than birds that day, as if a “no-critter” zone had been established. I had asked everyone I knew to pray for me at night, and the prayers seemed to be working: staying out of fear was easier than it should have been.

Coyotes started barking and carrying on far off in the distance for a little while; then became quiet.  I asked them if they had a message for me, and immediately got a sense of “magic”.  This told me that things would be done for my personal growth that I couldn’t do for myself.  I was much heartened.  On the other hand, I’ve learned from experience to be cautious of messages from coyotes.  Not because the messages aren’t true, but because whatever it is will be unexpected and harder than it sounds.  Nonetheless, I was grateful.

There was one critter in my prayer bin that night – a mouse.  I heard something running around on my tarp.   Maybe it’s a pinecone, I thought hopefully; ponderosas drop pinecones continuously.  The skittering went this way and that, then upwards against gravity.  No, most likely not a pinecone.  “Shoo!  Get out of here!”  I smacked the underside of the tarp a few times. The mouse came back once more.  It occurred to me that since this animal was here and rather persistently so, it might be significant.  So I asked the spirits about it.  In a flash, I felt a sense of delighted, gentle humor.  A couple of explanations seemed likely for this: (1) the spirits were teasing me about my fear of scary animals in the dark by sending a harmless little mouse; and (2) demonstrating the humor of the South.  When an animal comes close on vision quest, we are encouraged to say, “Welcome, brother (or sister)!”  What I always do is holler at them to go away.  I know I need some work on this.

The clouds cleared during the night and the stars shone brilliantly through the trees.  That sight grabs my core and shakes it every time.  I’m not sure what it is about trees and stars. 

First thing in the morning, predawn, is the time to clean up enough without water to feel like a human.  This is optional, and the guys usually don’t do it.  I personally deem flossing unnecessary since I’m not eating any food.  I get tired of flossing every day, so this is actually something I look forward to.  The people of old did not have toothpaste, baby wipes or a change of socks and underwear.  One person laughs about it, saying she thinks she smells bad enough after a few days to scare off any animals, but I would be surprised if that were true. 

My guides were trading off water duty, and one of them showed up bright and early with a quart of water.  I drank it gratefully.  After we performed dawn ceremony, he departed.  I settled in to watch and wait. 

The morning was beautiful with marvelous clouds gathering as the day went on.  I began to think about growing up in an alcoholic home and its impacts on my life; how my early wonderment with life had turned into anxiety and depression.  I thought about the last several years of living next to a hostile neighbor; a person whose presence I react to by feeling similarly threatened and trapped.  I sadly took note of how much my eyesight has deteriorated over the last year, probably as a result of subconsciously trying to “disappear” the situation.  I thought about how hard I have worked to maintain a positive attitude – changing the things I can – but still have subsided into greater anxiety, depression and paranoia.  I thought about how my blood pressure has gone up.  These recent years clearly paralleled my early experience.  I started to feel depressed and the magic went out of the day.

No matter how open I try to be to whatever happens on vision quest, at some point (usually the second day), I am disappointed.  I secretly hope for amazing transformational miracles.  I want to commune with the spirits and Creator and learn cool things.  Instead, it’s therapy.

I discussed my situation with the spirits; telling them I didn’t know what to do.  I acknowledged that I was on board with whatever they had in mind for me -- which I was -- because I trusted them.  I felt confused.  This whole place confused me.  There was too much going on here that I didn’t understand.  Maybe I was actually being corrected from confusion of erroneous take-away messages from childhood.  Maybe shifting to a healthier perspective would feel confusing.  I felt better after talking about these things with the spirits.

Morning and evening I’d been doing ceremonies honoring the spirits and Creator.  That was another thing I was confused about:  I didn’t know what kind of ceremony was appropriate for this place and this vision quest.  After some experimentation, I settled on starting a small fire with dry juniper branches and smudging myself and the sacred objects with purifying herbs. As the smoke curled up into the air, I offered cornmeal to the six directions, gratefully acknowledging Creator as the source of life.  Then I blessed the trees, spirits, plants, rocks, Father Sky, Mother Earth, and everything else with the spirit of the eagle.  Next, I held the pipe with the Wakan-tan-ka pipe stem up to the six directions, honoring them.  Finally, I held up the deer antler pipe to the trees and spirits, thanking them for the teachings I was being given about the South.  The spirits seemed to pay close, approving attention to all this, so I figured I had a pretty good formula. 

That evening in the deepening dusk, grass insects began to sing.  This is my favorite nature sound and I was entranced.  Then, some distance away, I heard clattering hooves on sticks and rocks.  There was an elk or deer walking around.  I asked if it had a message for me.  Right away, “deer magic” came back to me; so it was a deer, and I was being given deer magic.  This was good medicine, probably having to do with gentle strength among other things.  I don’t really understand it, but maybe I will one day.  I thanked the deer and the spirits.

That night I debated whether or not to sleep under my shelter.  I decided to stay in it because it helped me cope better.  I was being a coward and I probably should have resisted, but thunder in the distance tipped the scale for me. 

As I lay in my shelter, I felt very dried out.  I had attended the sweat two days before going on vision quest which was probably too soon for full rehydration and recovery of electrolyte balance.  I did it to grow and be of service, and because it seemed like the spirits were asking it of me.  My heart rate was up a little and my face was flushed.  I was thirsty.  I was afraid I might die.  I thought about this.  Part of my deal with myself for being out here was need for change.  My need for change was so strong, that I no longer wished to live if there was no change, either in myself or my circumstances.  I considered this, here in this situation where it seemed like death could happen.  I found I still agreed with it, and I started feeling better.  I asked the spirits if they had anything to tell me about all this.  Immediately, I heard an owl off in the distance; not the hooting kind, but the squeaky type.  I asked if it had a message for me, and right away I felt reassurance.  Well, OK!

The rain was getting closer, so I set out a plastic bag, hoping to collect some rain water.  My philosophy about water on vision quest is if it falls from the sky, we are allowed to drink it.  I didn’t collect much, maybe a tablespoon or so: enough to wash my face in the morning.  The mouse came back, and I shooed it away again. 

It started raining pretty hard, and I noticed I was getting wet.  Water was coming through the canvas, which was bad.  The only waterproof item of any size that I had with me was my sleeping pad, so I worked it out from under me and put it over top of my sleeping bag, pulling the bag under it as much as possible.  It worked pretty well; I even got some sleep.  I had no thoughts about critters that night!  I asked the spirits if there was anything about this situation I should pay attention to.  What I sensed was gentleness.  True, I thought.  This site was an island between two washes, and it would have been no problem for the rain to fall hard enough to wash me and my stuff away.  At the very least, water could have run underneath my sleeping bag, getting me totally soaked.  I was really happy this did not happen.  I have no idea why it didn’t.

The night began to lighten up and turn gray.  The trees dripped steadily from the rain.  I got up, cleaned up, and said hello to the dawn.  I was still in the shadow of the canyon walls, but the sun was coming up and the sky was wonderfully blue again.  I hung my camping gear on tree limbs so it would dry.  I thought about the leaky tarp.  Probably if I improved its drainage it would work better.  I started my camping life before equipment was good, so I had some experience in these matters. 

It was the morning of the third day, and one of my guides arrived, soaked to the waist from wet vegetation.  She had a quart of water for me, and also her flute.  She played the song honoring the dawn and Creator that she had been given on her own vision quest this summer.  While she played this beautiful song of reverence, I noticed the sun shining on a nearby rabbitbush.  It was covered with raindrops which were lit up like jewels.  As I gazed at this wonderful sight, I thought, the spirits are telling me ceremonies are important.  “Do this!” they seemed to be saying, “It’s really a good thing with rich rewards!”

Bodies react differently to shortage of food and water.  Sometimes we get diarrhea or constipation.  We always get tired and weak.  Sometimes people wonder, why do I need to go through all this?  I’m not sure, but experience suggests that physical diminishment is part of why it works, and vision quest wouldn’t be as effective without it.  There is also something profound about the juxtaposition of the physical and the divine.  That morning I went up the hillside and successfully delivered a poop about the consistency of an eraser.  I was mighty happy about it, too.

The next thing on the day’s agenda was to scavenge some building materials to improve my shelter.  I located some suitable sticks, logs and rocks up the canyon.  My normal wary and watchful stance slipped away, replaced by happiness with my forest surroundings.  This area is particularly nice because for some reason there is no motorized access.  There was no sign of recent disturbance, and I felt safe from anyone coming around.  I’m so used to it, that I had forgotten how dangerous I think my fellow human beings are.  It seemed impossible, but could there be some way to feel relaxed and at peace while sharing the world with others?  I wondered what the South, with its emphasis on innocence, gentleness and vulnerability could offer in this world of ignorance, fear and aggression.  Maybe it could assist in acceptance of this side of reality and transcending it, loving everyone anyway.

I continued watching the clouds as they progressed from wisps to puffs, and finally, to gray storm clouds.  The wind was steady from west to east.  A storm front bringing heavy rain and high winds blew through.  I watched my tarp uneasily for leaks, but the new arrangement performed well.  This was good!  A glorious band of clear blue sky appeared overhead, followed in late afternoon by another storm.  It was getting harder to stay active and alert.  I drifted off to sleep under the tarp until thoughts bounced me awake:  Better get up!  I’m on vision quest!  Things may happen!  Right!  I got up.

Evening came, and I thought about skipping the evening ceremony since everything was all wet.  From somewhere the feeling arose, no, that’s wrong.  It suddenly seemed very clear that the ceremonies were probably the most important thing I was doing out there.  I’m not sure why.  As best I could tell, it had to do with gratitude and honoring Creator.  So out I went and did an evening ceremony.  The evening sun came out strongly, and rainwater fell off the ponderosas like waterfalls of diamonds.  It seemed like an affirmation of the ceremony and my decision to go ahead with it.  It was like the spirits were telling me, “Wondrous rewards come from following the right road!   The other way leads to nothing.”

The sky was still full of rain in the east.  I turned and looked at it, and close in front of me was a brilliant double rainbow.  It is one thing to know about rainbows and what creates them, but entirely another for one to appear in front of you on vision quest.  It felt like a person was standing there saying, “Pay attention!  This is important!  There is something you need to understand!”  Awed, I watched until it faded, which took a long time.  The east stands for new beginnings.  I hazarded a guess that the medicine of the South, should I take it, would lead me to something good and new.

I decided to go out to the clear area to the south to try to see sister moon.  So far it had been too cloudy.  She was on the lean side of one half and should have been about mid-sky at sunset.  I scanned the sky, but still no visible moon.  But, and this wiped all other thoughts from my mind, a startling cloud formation stretched across the sky from east to west.  It looked like a plant, with the face of a woman with petals around it, lit up pink by the sun.  I watched her as she stretched her leaf-arms to the west, blown inexorably towards the east, her face fading to gray. 

Usually I’m skeptical of cloud formations, but I had a pretty strong reaction to this one.   I think the message of the cloud was a companion to that of the rainbow.  The West symbolizes finding out about the things we don’t know about ourselves.  The figure in the sky, reaching out to the west probably was showing me how I want to hold on to self-defeating behaviors that feel safe, but they will give way to healing, change, new beginnings and being of greater service.  I was profoundly grateful for this encouraging medicine from the spirits.

My fear of being out in the dark was much diminished by the third night.  I listened to the grass insects chirring, watched stars through the tree branches, and snoozed.  Just before dawn, I suddenly awoke, opened my eyes, and looked directly into the bright planet Venus rising in the east.  I couldn’t get over feeling that there was something really significant about this.  I felt connected to her by a line of light – or something.  I watched as she continued her ascension ahead of the sun.   What could the message be?  It felt like fate, or destiny; like I had embarked upon a road that I would not be returning from.

When the sky began to lighten, I got up and did my usual things, including hanging my gear in the trees again.  I trotted in place to warm up until the sun appeared over the canyon rim.  Pretty lively for the fourth and last day!  The sunshine was blissful when it finally arrived.  It is hard to stay warm without eating.

Usually not too much happens on the last day, but I made the attempt to sit up and pay attention because you never know.  As the day progressed, I started feeling nice and mellow except for a little eye pain.  The sun reached the point where all the shade disappeared from my prayer bin, and it was hot.  I found a nice shady grassy spot right outside the ring of prayer ties, laid down on my sleeping pad, and commenced a healing meditation.  I wondered if it was getting towards 4:00 when my guide would show up.  I didn’t know if I should take my shelter down because I could hear thunder all around.

Then I heard footsteps rushing up behind me and received a solid blow to the right side of my ribs.  I could not have been more shocked; my worst fears of animal attack coming true!  “Ahhh!”  I sat up hastily, adrenaline roaring.  I thought I saw a smallish, brindled form disappearing up the top of the bank about forty feet away, into the woods.  On adrenaline rush, I walked around looking for tracks.  I found none, but I saw a rabbit hopping around, head up and ears alert, in the wash below where the animal had disappeared. 

My mind was going crazy.  What just happened here?  Why?  “Spirits,” I said, “this really brings up some issues.”  It brought up issues of betrayal.  Some bitterness settled in.  You can’t trust them, I thought.  You can’t trust anyone.  I continued to puzzle over it.  What could this have meant?  Don’t just lay there concerning yourself about your health?  Why would an animal attack me?  I was lying down with my head in its direction (right on an animal path, I observed).  Perhaps I appeared small and attackable from that perspective.  Usually animals are more cautious than that.  It might have been a bobcat in pursuit of that rabbit, I thought.  Predators get tunnel vision when they are after something.  It probably didn’t even know I was there until I started yelling.  I’ll never know for sure.

But in the meantime, my sense of betrayal and violated trust began to give way to a rising sense of humor.  Not a bit of actual harm had been done; indeed, it was pretty exciting and would make a fine story back at the lodge.  The sense of humor won, and my attacked and betrayed stance melted away.  Once again I put my sleeping pad down – inside the prayer bin – and lay down on it.  Immediately I heard odd noises right behind my head.  “Okay, okay!”  I got up fast and went about packing my things.  Just as I finished, my guide arrived with the blessed half gallon of orange juice/electrolyte mixture that would power me out of there.  After rolling up the prayer ties, we did a final ceremony, thanking the spirits.  They had done more for me than words could express, but I knew they understood.

In the old days, the person coming back from vision quest finished up by entering the sweat lodge and having a sweat.  This was their door back into the real world.  The elders listened closely to the person’s story about what happened, as it would provide important information from the spirit world to help the tribe.  We too, return through the door of the sweat lodge (and from thence to a potluck feast!).  Our words are more likely to be about growth principles, but, nonetheless, we also hope they will be applicable and inspiring to our friends and companions on our journey together.

I’ve pondered the lessons of this vision quest considerably.  The incident at the very last suggested marching orders to me:  first, to stay awake and alert to life and what Creator may be bringing; and next, to receive life’s buffeting with a childlike sense of humor and delight.  I feel different.  The spirits seemed to have removed some of my belief in my own un-lovability; and, by extension, that of the dark side of humanity as a whole.  Perhaps we are all innocent and therefore must be forgiven.  I don’t think I understand more than 1% of what happened out there.  My hope and trust is that it will assist me anyway, and I will know more with time and experience.