28 Jul Dancing to the Beat of a Different Drummer
On a small but loving reservation in Gallup, New Mexico, my family is gathering to kick up some dirt, dance around a tree and lay down some prayers to answer the prayers of many.
Tree day was this past Tuesday. It signals the beginning of an evolutionary process some call the continuum. In the continuum, events don’t occur in a linear fashion–you’re young, then you’re old, there is today and then tomorrow–everything is happening simultaneously. Maybe we have to separate those experiences out, so as to not get overwhelmed. Humans created time to segment. But I believe the soul craves something more unifying and cozy.
Tree Day
is the day when the sacred forms a circle around people, calling us into communion. A tree must be found. We must hear the tree calling. Piling into cars and trucks, we head to the gathering of the tall ones. The forest.
Until the moment we enter the forest to select a cotton tree, there is joking and laughter and a lot of water drinking. As we stand on the edge of the elders’ gathering (the forest), reverence takes the lead. Quietly we enter. The drummers begin drumming and the songs are sung. The wise ones convene, converse, look, search and stop at the tree that has given itself to the ceremony.
I love Tree Day because people are filing in from all parts of the world. Some are folks I’ve not seen for a long time; relationships are reforged and love flows. So much joking and hugging and pretending like we’re going to be okay without food and water for four days. We’re in it together. Except, again, this year I’m not there. I’m here blogging on it. My heart misses them and the ceremony, and so it goes. I write so I can belong.
When the tree is erected, you are confronted by the majestic. It is the living example of Namaste (the God in me sees the God in you). Prayer ties are wrapped from the middle of the trunk to the branches. Eagle feathers sway from the tree, indicating future events. Everyone gets excited–you know, that feeling of being on the precipice of the unknown. The context may be the same, but what occurs is always different.
Night falls and everyone hustles to fashion their crowns, wrist and ankle bracelets from newly picked California sage. Pipes are cleaned for the next day. Everyone gets whatever food and liquid they want to be their last for four days.
Headlights blind you as more cars creep onto the Rez. It’s time to go to bed, to get a little sleep if you can before they wake you. Women are squeezing into the teepee, making space for each other, and the men settle in the open-air arbor. You can always hear the petering of laughter from the teepee and the arbor as the quiet takes over.
The tone is getting serious.
Contentment.
The Fire Keeper has lit the fire and it will stay lit until it’s time to head home.
Tomorrow comes very quickly. Already a prayer has been answered.
Aho,
Melanie
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