THE BEGINNING

When we finally all joined together in the Santa Fe National Forest at our ‘spot’ (found by Luna and Laura 5 days before the rest of us arrived!) we were experiencing a mixture of feelings ranging from total excitement, to depression and fear convincing some of us that we would rather be traveling around the USA in the truck, than sitting out here in the midst of pumice, desert, ponderosa pine, and 13 women for a month….You know, that kind of fear that chases you away from the very thing You’ve always dreamed of doing….

But we did stay, everyone of us, moving through our trial of fear into acceptance of our commitment to live here and come to know the Eagle Canyon, the Butterscotch smelling pines, the 80 foot waterfall, the coyote calls, the passionate purple prickly pear fruit, the life of women on the earth. We found the land stunning and fulfilling all the priorities we had named when choosing a place to go… warm sun, no biting bugs, little rain, caves, canyons, cliffs, water, shade, big trees, big wild animals, no other people, Indian ruins, and much more that we hadn’t even thought of asking for.

We lived in a special area distinguished from the outer world in spirit and physical arrangement, requiring us to slip past the huge Guardian Rock in order to enter the Earth Mission Domain. In passing, the Rock offered a luscious gift… the scent of fresh rain-cleansed air mixed with a dab of sunshine and healthy rock lichen. This particular scent would rise up from one particular small spot on the Rock, but would flavor all the air as we passed. Once past that Guardian, we were immediately entranced into a magical world, (where women cavorted naked or in buckskins studying earth rites and its’ secrets!)

Our living space was near the running steam, whose rocky bottom sparkled with tiny opalescent rocks. Our kitchen was a circle surrounded by logs, apparently a corral in years past, with firepit at one end, and altar in the middle around which we held council, danced hula and folk dances, created stories (like “How Juliana decided to Become Miss Universe” and “The adventures of Amanda Georgette Scruple and Walter Nu-nu”), and ate our meals. We were in a gentle canyon through which this stream ran southward toward the Rio Grande. Huge Ponderosa stood watch. After passing us, the stream ran across the main trail and dropped 80 feet to Shangri-La where lush green plants surrounded a small circular pool. It was a secluded pool, arrived at either by a treacherous slide and rock climb down the Cliffside, (too treacherous for some of us to bother with, or a roundabout walk down a dry streambed and along the edge of some shallow caves. This was the place often of solitude and retreat, as well as a place for story reading, basket weaving, showers and hair washing with yucca roots dug from the hillside.

The main trail, which was blessed with fresh coyote tracks and scat every morning, led up the westward slope to the desert meadow… a fragile land with tiny plants holding tenaciously to the loose dry soil. The meadow was embraced by the northern cliffs rising 200 feet high, with few passable areas, and, at least in our fantasy, with hidden cougar lairs. Juliana compared this scene to a giant Medicine Wheel– the universe. The four directions held in the wheel are often associated with certain qualities, animals, rocks, etc. For instance, North may represent wisdom, clarity, earth, winter, while South represented trust, innocence, emotion.

Juliana saw the northern cliffs as the great protector spirit watching over us. The red cliffs rising high in the East and West were two great arms cradling us. They created our canyon where we sat in circle, and enlightened us to realms of light and dark within ourselves. The south opened wide to a view of the valley and plains far below to where the river flowed, opening us into trust and innocence.

There was no room for doubting the beauty and magic of this land. Indeed, we were overwhelmed and found ourselves for the first week mostly in silence, apart from one another, exploring the cliffs and waters, and drifting through the dreams of this reality so different from what we had left behind, and seeking the way to merge. We were at an elevation of 8000 feet, in an entirely new climate. We were unwinding the patterning and mind conditioning of a society disconnected with Earth rhythm; we were dissolving who we had come to believe we were, waiting and allowing the unexpected process of adjustment to run its course.

Soon though, there were callings for us to come together, to look at what we were doing there. One morning we found ourselves together as a group in the desert meadow, greeting the sunrise. We sang songs of thanks and praise to each of the Directions and finally asked permission of the Spirits of this land that we may live for this time in their home. We made offerings to the Grandmother. Just as we turned to the East, the Sun shone her face over the ridge, and we cheered her on, encouraging her to come spend the day with us.

Every aspect of our lives there held a certain magic and sacredness. Ceremony and reverence was as much a part of digging the toilet as it was part of the greetings to the Spirits. A first-aid talk inevitably became a sharing of our hopes and fears of death. Through tears, fears, angers and hurts, we explored thoughts about dying in a hospital rather than here on the earth, questioned how we could morally and responsibly not to mention legally, deal with an accident out here with one who does not want to be in a hospital. We came to realize that at a time as that we would know our strength and love as a circle of women. We would call ourselves together to converse with the divine Spirit for guidance and safety through whatever choices were made. We did not need to be immobilized by our societal standards or expectations. We had strength and knowing in our Circle to heal or to aide on our passage. We recognized that which is not usually acknowledged as valid in our society.

Time taught us of patience and process while allowing the days to flow as they may, trusting for Truth to emerge. Thirteen women meet very randomly, sporadically, spontaneously, and slowly when there is no leader, and no demands. It could be on par with trying to corral 13 cats. Many hours we sat in council, circled around our altar, processing emotions, listening to our little girls cry, offering mothering nurturing, allowing our tears to cleanse. We also would feel anger and frustration at the lack of movement, at the lack of group activity, or too much group activity, the miscommunications or projections of one’s own issues, the mixture of needs and desires, the splits in the group. After hours in circles of talk, we often found we had no energy for gatherings ritual.. we needed to be alone, and we would move off to our caves or special alone spots.

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