TheBanyanTree: Sacred Timing

[sash]

Thursday was pretty hectic.  I was fighting a cold so had gone to bed
early Wednesday night.  That meant I didn't prepare the potluck dish OR
pack my clothes for the sweat lodge on Thursday.  THAT meant I couldn't go
straight over from work.  I would have to go home first, cook, gather my
things, and head over.

I was OK with that.  Usually I go straight over from work.  I can chop
wood, help put the hides on the lodge, spend some time with the fire. 
This week, though, I needed to rest a little bit, spend time with my
ferret, and just be ready to pray.

I really needed to pray.  I also wanted to tie some prayer ties and
prepare a bundle to place on the altar.

Picture a fire - like a campfire - with wood stacked off to one side,
water buckets nearby (but not too near).  Directly to the West of the fire
(at this lodge site) and about 15 feet away, there is a small dome - about
the size of a bubble tent.  A framework of willow covered with felt and
plastic, this is the lodge where the ceremony takes place.  Between the
lodge and the fire, the intercessor lays a path of sage or cedar or
tobacco.  This Spirit trail connects the fire to the lodge, and noone
crosses this line except the firekeeper in the course of his duties. 
Between the fire and the lodge.

Directly on this path and just outside the lodge is the altar where the
sacred items are kept.  The pipe and the drums.  The medicine, the
antlers, and the gourd.  This is also a place where items can be placed to
connect them to the lodge and to invest them with the prayers from the
ceremony.  The items are not there for display - they are almost always
wrapped in a red cloth.  These are your own prayers, after all.  They are
also not brought into the lodge where the conditions might damage them and
where their physical presence might distract you.  Not everyone places
items there and you don't need to do so each time you have a lodge. 
Sometimes, however, there is a item or a picture or a tool that you want
to have in that flow of energy between the fire and the lodge.

This night I wanted to carry my prayers for Germanicus - my sweet
adolescent ferret who has just been diagnosed with lymphoma.  I carry no
illusions about this disease.  I know that he will probably die from it
and I would not ask spirit to change that.  But there is much energy in
the lodge and prayers are powerful things.  Acceptance of this parting,
understanding of his needs, grace as I walk through this with him, knowing
how to ease his transition.  Those are all good things that spirit could
grant.  Just the act of offering those prayers would turn my feet toward
them.

I wanted to place something on the altar for my little furkid.  His
medicine needed to be at home in the fridge, but I placed one of the tiny
syringes on the square of red flannel.  His collar could no longer be
around his neck - so swollen he could barely eat.  I set it also on the
cloth, but it didn't look right.  I wasn't sure what else belonged on the
altar for him.

I bustled about getting everything else ready, leaving the cloth open
until I could decide.  Ed had tossed the mail on the counter and I had to
move it to work on the salad, so I flipped through.  Bill, junk, junk,
junk, looks like a birthday party invitation for Ned.  Then there was a
lumpy envelope for me.  I smiled when I saw the address.  One of my
precious writing friends.  How do they know when I'm having a tough day?? 
I had only a couple minutes before I had to leave, so I grabbed the
envelope and headed to the bathroom.  Multi-tasking, you know.

Into my hands fell a stone.  A grandfather of many, many years with a hole
in his center.  It was threaded on a piece of hemp with a single wooden
bead.  I read the note through blurry eyes.

I knew all along that my friend, the vet tech, was going to help me with
my ferret's journey.  We were both thinking of her vast, scientific
knowledge and experience.  And yes - we are consistantly this clue-free. 
Fortunately, we are amusing in our cluelessness

The grandfather, wrapped in the red cloth with the slender plastic
syringe, weathered an incredible storm as we two leggeds sang in the
lodge.  The Thunderbeings danced over us and sent hail down upon us.  The
stones sang and moaned, delivering their heat, bearing their sacrifice,
modelling surrender and patience and stability.  The moon rose just before
midnight and still we prayed.  So many prayers for so many people in
strife and chaos and confusing.  So much thanksgiving for so many riches
that we often forget to even notice.

The grandfather - my holey stone - is hanging in Germanicus' room.  Twice
blessed - by the prayers of my spirit community and by the love and
support of this amazing, spirit filled space.

- sash