Here I sit in the silence of the early morning as the night melts into the new day. I see yesterday’s warmth rising from the still waters meeting the coolness of the night, leaving clouds of condense hovering over the surface of the water. As I look ahead, there is the place that I have called home my whole life emerging from its night-time rest.

As I sit on the bow seat, I run my hands softly over my paddle resting across my canoe. I smile at the memory of how I talked my father into making this boat with me. It is made of birch, strong and quick. Especially suited for hunters and warriors.

From the time that I could speak, I said I would be a warrior one day just like my father and he would laugh. That only made me stronger in my conviction and his demeaner would always soften a bit. He would then share stories both mythical and personal. I loved those moments. We stepped briefly into a whole mystical world of the warrior that made me feel electric. Energized after the adventures that felt more real than anything, I was ready to take on the world which was usually was some chore for my mother. My favorite chores were collecting nuts and berries or working in the garden because then I could work and day dream about the stories my father told me. Of course, I added in my own challenges and quests that the trees, birds, frogs , snakes, turtles, salamanders and any other passers by played a crucial role in. I would often get lost in my own imagination to the annoyance of my mother waiting on something that I was meant to bring back. It would all come eventually- just a bit delayed. Thankfully, my mother took this knowingness about me mostly into consideration when assigning me my tasks for the day. Each day was a new day, some days I was useful in weaving baskets or repairing fishing nets. Other days sitting still was just too much of a challenge and I would get lost in the forest protecting the village by fighting off monsters and other enemies or simply spend time in the garden with my grandmother.

She would teach me all the wonders of the the earth and plants and that if you become very still, you can hear, see, taste the wisdom and their medicine. This was very helpful when I would have trouble focusing. Still focus is necessary too, she would say, so that you can learn to direct your creativity effectively and then we would dance together to the clapping of the tree leaves celebrating our joy.

Oh yes, the trees they have a soul. I have deep conversations with the grass, trees and flowers all the time. You would be surprised at what they have to say and if you don’t get the message in that moment, they visit you while your body rests at night, when there is less resistance.

My grandmother would tell me similar stories to my mother and my father. But like all stories, you make them your own so though the stories were in essence the same, it was like listening to a new story each time it was told. You see stories are personalized and evolve with the person who is telling it. When you tell stories, you share a piece of your own soul, your own journey and your understanding of life interlaced with the universal meaning. It keeps us connected to the Source of inspiration and each other while living our own truths and blazing our own paths on this open and closed eye dreamscape.

While my fathers hero stories were initiations that included bears, bison and mountains. My mother’s and grandmother’s hero stories were filled with dark caves, tree portals, wild rivers oceans, and aquatic creatures.

What they all had in common were the ancestral wisdom and the lessons and messages from the spirit guides. They always took on different forms in each story. Shapeshifting being one of their many abilities. My grandmother always received her wisdom, through the plants and animals while my father through the great eagle and the great fire. My mother through the wind, the rain the sun and the moon. My other grandmother, the ocean and its inhabitants. Although we did not live near dolphins and whales physically, she carried their wisdom for the whole tribe. We even share our longhouse with a turtle , named after the turtle which all of creation is built upon- Hah-nu-na.

We shared our longhouse with many living beings that would come and go as they pleased. They were here before we were, they helped us to build this landscape. We are guests here, learning from nature and she through us. That is why we do not take anything for granted and honor the gifts the Earth Mother bestows upon us and we in turn learn how she wishes us to care for her as we grow together.

I feel touched by these fond memories and I feel the tears well up in my eyes as this is where my journey will split from this place. My heart is sad but it is also full of anticipation and excitement. There is somehow a peaceful knowing that this choice was destined and as I paddle my canoe into the unknown, I trust that the great wind spirit and my other guides will help me over the rapids to stiller waters where I can build my new life.

Why am I leaving this idyllic and familiar space, you ask? As I mentioned, from the moment that I could walk and talk, I wanted to be a warrior. In my tribe that honor is gifted to a few chosen men. My father and brothers being part of that group. I am so proud that this lineage runs also through my veins, however, this is not the task bestowed upon me. At least not in this clan. Here the men are the hunters and the warriors and the women grow the crops providing nourishment and care for the houses and villagers. All perfectly wonderful but not for my wild warrior heart.

We are a matrilineal tribe, meaning decent is traced trough the mother. Although the chief is a man, he was nominated and is supported by the clan mothers. I am in the line of the clan mothers. Each women carries a very specific medicine that can be called on in council. However, we are also simply humans on a journey learning who we really are and in that lies also the possibility of individual interpretation, unique perspective and limitations too.

Although my request was not immediately rejected as it was taken to council, in the end I would not be granted the title of warrior nor would I be able to use this medicine as a council women either. Our people had not gone to war with other tribes in a very long time, however, the path of the warrior remains a training of passion, perseverance, precision. All deeply important in the human exploration. The warrior fights the enemy without, overcomes the enemy within to live a purpose-full life in alignment with the Great Spirit. This training is useful for everyone regardless.

I did make a compelling argument, however, this is where parts of our humanness can resist new perspectives and possibilities. Or it is exactly how it was meant to be for the growth and learning paths for all those involved. I guess it depends on how you wish to look at it. What is your point of aim?

In short, they were not ready to change the traditions that we have followed for thousands of years. I must add, that not so long ago, but way before I was born, we broke off from a larger tribal group to follow our hearts and the wind. I think, however, there may have been a glitch in the tribal memory web with this decision. So, although I am sad because it could have been different, perhaps in the greater picture, that I do not have full vision of, it is perfect because it is as it is.

Now I must focus on that which is in my power and that is my choice. It would be a choice that would change the course of my life in this moment and all the future now moments. It would also add a new branch to the lineage tree. It is not a commitment to be taken lightly but one that will take a great deal of inner clarity as the fear of the unknown can sneak in, if you allow it, and take over your spirit. If you are pulled too far into that hole, you will most likely need a medicine women or man to come and guide you out. Someone who is no longer phased or distracted by that darkness and knows the way out. Of course, they will never tell you what you should do, but they will hold the space of clarity steady while you wobble yourself into your truth.

The decision of what steps I would take are all written in the stars as we all have a destiny or soul path to follow. However, there is often a process for our human parts to come into alignment and find the courage to leap into what feels like the unknown. I don’t think we jump completely without fear, but we jump despite it.

I started fasting when the elders went into council and would start my vision quest when the decision was brought out. I went to stay in the hut surrounded by Cyprus Trees. The area around the hut is guarded by the four sacred medicines protecting the four directions. Tobacco at the eastern door, Sweetgrass at the southern door, Sage at the western door and Cedar at the northern door. All conduits of purification and protection. Sweetgrass, what we also call the hair of Mother Earth, brings the gentleness and compassion during times like these. I brought with me some things to help me on my journey inward such as a drum to sing to myself and the earth and to call on ancestors and spirit guides and the rhythm is a helpful way to lead you out of darkness. If you can face that inward, you can recognize it and face it outward as well. We carry both light and shadow and both have a function that we must learn to master.

At the end of my quest, I sat with my grandmother to share my dreams and visions. Sharing it with her helped to interpret and integrate what had seen and experienced on my own.

We then put together a medicine bag that I will carry with me. A medicine bag is meant to give, remembrance, guidance, healing, protection to those who carry them.

The bag may contain items from the plant kingdom, the animal kingdom, the mineral kingdom, and the human world. For example my bag might include seeds, a shell, an arrowhead, and some type of charm made from tree bark.

The last part of the ritual was the Sweat Lodge. If you are not familiar with the Sweat Lodge, it is like entering the Womb of the Earth Mother. It is sacred space to be confronted and to be guided and to help release unwanted energies, as well as release outdated beliefs to help heal spiritual, emotional, or physical wounds.

Outside of the lodge is a sacred fire altar and the sacred fire where Grandmother and Grandfather rocks are heated for the sweat. If you want to enter the spirit world weather it is when we leave our physical bodies by dying or simply for healing and purification, we must go through the fire. An offering to the fire before entering the Sweat Lodge symbolizes leaving all impurities and resistance of the physical dream at the door to better be able communicate with the unseen world. For me it was symbolic of leaving behind my old life and stepping into a whole new one.

Of course, I will take the wisdom and lessons of and from my family’s heritage both the spoken and unspoken. I may not be physically present here but can always call upon them in my dreams as we are intimately connected.

The night before my departure, there was a celebration with song and dancing around the fire. It is important that one is sent off in joy and not sorrow as that will affect the journey of the one that must leave. There were stories told, and healing dances and songs and wishes offered to the fire. I was given provisions, skins for warmth and shelter. We had nursed a wolf back to health, that my brother found on his vision quest some years ago. She was gifted as my companion. Her name is Satun-ta-tag which means to listen because she always sits and perks up her ears when you speak. She carries the medicine of loyalty, communication, understanding and intelligence.

After my sweat lodge, there was a Raven waiting for me that now follows me around. He represents creativity, mischief and magic. I have named him Sun-ke or heart. I think he will travel with me as he has become my friend.

So, as you see, I have not been sent off alone. I will depart with an abundant heart as I step into the mystery of the future carrying with me all I need to stay true to my alignment.

Hah-nu-na, the turtle, swam next to my boat for a bit and then disappeared under the water as I glided further and further away. I look to my right for one last goodbye and I glimpse my grandmother step into the morning sunshine. She slowly raises her hand in honor and I do the same. I then turn my canoe completely the other direction and with my back to the past, disappear into the mist.

References:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GsAGT5BbmDc&ab_channel=CollegeofLiberalArts%2CUniversityofMinnesota
https://www.cheroenhaka-nottoway.org/about-us/cheroenhaka-language/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GsAGT5BbmDc&ab_channel=CollegeofLiberalArts%2CUniversityofMinnesota
https://www.cheroenhaka-nottoway.org/about-us/cheroenhaka-language/