Mark's Web Site: A quiet place with just a bit of pretension.

I wrote this in August, 2003 shortly after returning from a Quest in Vermont with members of my men's group.  It was the events of this weekend that directed me to study for ministry and serve to guide my path today.  The Quest is a four day event in which we each spend time alone on a site in the woods, fasting, meditating, writing.  I embarked this time with an intention to engage with the spirits however they presented themselves.  I spent the four weeks leading up to the Quest clearing my world, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, so that I could quest freely.  I arrived early and spent the weekend with my friend Wade.  

Friday night, Wade’s cabin

Dream

I was part of a group who were introduced to a sect of people. They were identified by a wrist band that gave them certain powers. We met with some of them at their place, entering through the kitchen and then moving to other areas of the building. When we left, Ted E. and I went to his place. I had forgotten something so I had to go back the home of the sect. As I entered the kitchen several other members challenged me, people I had not met. A heated confrontation ensued. I left and walked to a group of sect initiates in another part of the forest. A young boy was remorsefully beating on a tree with a rock; a large area of bark was worn away making a niche of sorts. Beside him a man was beseeching him to stop. Beyond the tree, an adult male member of the group was hanging crucified from a tree, impaled by spiral spikes. I looked further, and several others were similarly impaled.

Sunday evening, Ellen and Arthur’s house

Ellen Diona is our spiritual guide for our quests. She is a shaman with roots in Celtic traditions and learning in Native American traditions. Each year, in preparation for our Quest, Ellen helps us find or reconnect with our power animals. The power animal acts as a companion through all of our experiences in the woods.

We settle into a meditative state and, while Ellen explains the purpose of the exercise, my Brother Wolf is pacing, waiting to go. When the drumming starts, we are flying westward, over forests, mountains, and deserts. I ask Brother Wolf if he has a message for me. He says, “Get off the porch.” I am reminded of a game I used to play as a child where I would lean or sit on the porch railing and gather all of the energy and momentum that it took to move from that position. But I would not budge. I would savor the tension of the moment, enjoying the sensation of being on the edge of movement. Brother Wolf is telling me that it is time to move off the porch. I ask, “What about Chris and my other obligations?” He says, “Have faith.”

In the next image, I am waiting for the rest of the men to pick me up in a van. A gray van, like the one I am expecting, arrives, and out come a group of nuns. I ask, “Why are you showing me nuns?” and he replies, “Because they are committed.”

The final image is a roof on four posts over a square hole. It had a foul smell. A ladder leads down into the hole. Beyond the first three rungs of the ladder it is pitch black.

When I recounted these images after the drumming ended, Ellen suggested the hole might be a kiva.

Monday morning 2 AM, Wade’s Cabin

I am wide awake. I ask what I must commit to. The reply is that my task is to teach. But what am I to teach? Teach of the connectedness of all beings using the symbol system of the God you know. We were once so closely connected, but Western culture is forcing us to split apart, to dis-integrate our material, mental, emotional, and spiritual beings. I must teach of the connections of life, of earth, of God. I can do this using the personal essay. There are many poets, but so few good essayists. I love writing poetry, but the essay is a vehicle that will allow me to make the connections clearly.

I am not a Christian. Christ was the Anointed One, and Christians are the anointed. I choose not to separate myself by such symbology.

Monday morning, 10 AM, Harmony Hill

The valley that we Quest in is in the foothills of the Green Mountains. The land is owned by a group of like-minded people who purchased it for the sake of maintaining a wilderness. There are four dwellings there, each produces its own power, its own water, and manages its own waste. Ellen and Arthur are the only permanent residents in the valley of some 200+ acres.

The valley is accessed by a single dirt road. About a mile and a half up the road, it is divided by a ridge that runs from north to south. We call this ridge Harmony Hill. My questing site is on the upper end of Harmony Hill. The fire circle is located under a stand of maple trees where the ridge is about ten yards wide. To the north is a meadow that runs up the hill about 200 yards. During the Great Ice Storm of 1998, all of the trees in this area were felled by the ice, leaving a pile of broken timber. With financial help from the State of Vermont, Ellen and Arthur had the land cleared both to open up the meadow to wildlife, and to prevent a bolt of summer lightning from starting a fire.

This morning, as I was setting up my tarp, a red-tailed hawk came flying low over the meadow. It was calling in that high-pitched screech it has, as if to welcome me (or to complain). I said I hoped she wouldn’t mind if I stayed a few days. Later on, I was sitting in the meadow when two hawks came by. One again circled the meadow very low and called out. After a short rain shower, she came back a third time.

It occurs to me that three visits by the hawk can be interpreted to mean that I am to follow the way of the hawk in pursuit of my purpose. Because of their sharp eyes and the long distances they travel, hawks are known as messengers. Shall I then be a messenger of the interconnectedness of beings?

Tuesday, Harmony Hill

The trees in this valley, the souls in the cities, the flies on my feet, all come from the same spirit. It is the spirit that reproduces the DNA of each living thing. It is the spirit that creates the death of these things and adds to the detritus of the forest floor. It is the spirit that causes rocks to form from millions of years of dying DNA and it is the spirit that brings the heat of the planet upward to form the new crucible for the next cycle.

Wednesday, Harmony Hill

I am on Harmony Summit. The light has come and the mist again fills the valley.

Mist rising from the valley
ebbing and flowing like ocean waves
the distant ridges appear and fade
with each passing breeze

Quest rising from my soul
dimming a clearing like valley mists
the selfless essence just out of reach
in silent contemplation

I wonder, does the appearance of the hawk indicate a quest for the spirit of the East? The hawk is one of the animals that represent that spirit of new beginnings, of new growth. But all of my quests seem to be for new beginnings. I pray that this one provides me with a process I can follow that I will not wear as an obligation but that I can anticipate with daily joy.

Thursday, Harmony Hill

This meadow is full of young saplings. They are growing tall in the sunlight that is unencumbered by old surrounding trees. They will compete with each other. Some will be trimmed by the moose and deer, some will be lost to bad footings, some will suffer from being on the wrong side of a more successful tree. But now, it is new and joyous.

The hawk and the meadow point to a time for a new beginning. I can do this. I have value to add to the world, and there is nothing else I must do.

Friday, Harmony Hill

This morning arises again in mist. The woodpecker is busy at work and I am feeling content. Last night I held a vigil from sundown to sunrise. I built a power circle to the north of the fire circle about seven feet in diameter. I placed a stone in each of the three directions, East, West, and North. The South was represented by the fire. When the sun disappeared behind the western ridge, I lit the fire and began my vigil.

I prayed to the Spirit of the East for guidance and protection. East is the spirit of air, and so I gave the stone the gift of three breaths from my body. I then asked the Spirit of the South for guidance and protection. South is the spirit of fire, and so I offered three pinches of herbs to the fire. West, the spirit of water, was next. I offered the stone three mouthfuls of water from my body. To the North, the earth spirit, I offered my staff, made from the top of a red cedar tree. Finally, I asked God to protect me and guide me in my quest.

My vigil is about honoring myself as I honor others. Much of my life is centered on doing for others, and it is a great joy of mine to be able to do so. But I lose myself in all my work. I fail to take care of my health, I eat wrong, I don’t exercise, and I don’t get enough sleep. I fail to care for my spirit – I don’t pray, I don’t meditate, I don’t write nearly enough. I make commitments to do these things, but I never seem to keep them. My vigil is about finding the strength, the courage, and the power to keep commitments I make to myself as I keep commitments I make to others.

My first effort was to explain the dream I had at Wade’s Friday night. It came to me that the child, who was very sad and beating the tree with a rock, is my inner child. That child is sad, and the man pleading with him to stop could not penetrate that sadness. Around the tree, the people impaled on the spikes, in the form of a crucifix, were different aspects of me. I seek to sacrifice myself to atone for this sad child.

I next ask Brother Wolf to descend with me into the hole from my drumming image. It became a narrow hole that led to an entry way. In a small room, I was met by an elder. He told me the child in my dream was the child that Christina and I never had. Its sadness comes from being left behind. I ask the child to forgive me. I suggest to the Elder that there is still time. “That time has passed.” he says.

Also there is Owl Mother, whom I met two years ago in my Quest by the stream. She tells me I am to love a child that has no love. And so she confirmed my relationship with Anthony and Marquis. Finally, I enter a larger room where I can sing and dance.

Coming back to my power circle, I lay down to sleep. I dreamed that I was with my brother Gary on a train going to a hospital for a meeting. We were carrying slices of salami so we could make sandwiches when we got there. When the train arrived, he went ahead and left his salami. I picked it up, angry that he had left it for me to carry. When I confronted him, he was upset that I did so in public. I threw his salami on the floor and told him to carry his own meat. He yelled, “You don’t have to apologize anymore!”

My vigil ended with the rising sun, and I thanked the Spirits and God for their guidance and protection.

Friday, Ellen and Arthur’s

Upon recounting the events of my week, Ellen suggests that I have received a call, and that the initial response of most people is to resist such a call. I don’t know about that. I only hope to be able to fulfill my commitments to myself and others joyously, without feelings of obligation.