I am sitting inside a pitch dark dome at 10:30 pm. The
only glimpses of light that once in a while reach the place are the result of
silhouettes that come and go, opening and closing the heavy curtains behind
them.
I am enjoying the experience of just being here until the
moment I start thinking… Are there spiders around? I slip the shoes back on and
focus on the soothing drumming sound that resembles a heartbeat and is
gently leading me to a lovely comforting place inside my mum’s womb. I
feel protected and cared for and somehow lose track of time and even space.
Swirling white and golden filaments can be seen in front of me. 'Is this really
happening I wonder?' I stretch my hand and try to touch them but they evaporate.
Once I come back to the physical realm I realise that the drumming has ceased and
the room isn't only pitch dark but also incredibly silent. 'Am I
alone here?' Heart starts racing imagining all sorts of demons but somehow manage to quiet the dragon as I
stand up and find my way out.
Outside the bonfire is still burning and my shamanic partner
persists in drumming to the last flames. There are a couple of people chatting
in the circle but oblivious to the fire. I can see a
few ambulating through the grounds showing up from around bushes
and tops of trees as the night falls upon us in the forest. I stand there with
E observing the flames until the cold takes over my humanity I walk inside for
a warm shower before falling asleep in the dorm. Can't recall when
was the last time I shared one.. luckily I brought the earplugs as
sound sensitivity makes me a nervous sleeper if I hear snores in the
vicinity.
Sunday morning I am told to connect with the energy of
the plants, trees and nature. We are let to wonder for an hour under a drizzly
sky. The grounds are beautiful and lively and I decide to follow the opposite route to the
previous morning. My final destination is the majestic tree near the arches that I sat by the
earlier day in meditation.
To connect with the elements we are told to use a rattle a
drum or a song. ‘Singing? Are you mad…I can't sing!’ I grab a
tiny rattle and follow the path along the lake in a slow pace and
contemplative mode.
I am stopped by a beautiful bushy tree whose branches reach
all the way down to the lake, connecting earth and water in the gentlest way.
I sit down by the lake edge just beside the tree’s root and
before I notice a humming melody has originated in my chest and is being
vocally expressed.My tree doesn't want to be rattled, she wants a song. As if it was an alien voice I am surprised by that
discovery. The humming continues with different tones and I feel it reverberate
in my heart. It feels good! At the distance another humming echoes mine. It is
an exquisite experience that my self conscious mind has been denying to my
adult persona. ‘Did I sing as a child? I am pretty sure I did.’ We used to sing,
dance and even choreograph our own theatre shows for the parents and
neighbours.
I return to the room full of people in wonder and
exploration mode, the shamanic journey continues until later in the
afternoon.
The energetic dancing, drumming, journeying and connecting
for over two and a half days finally takes over me and I pass out on
Sunday evening happily convinced that Shamanism isn’t a distant practice
but very much something that has been within me ever since I first read those
Castaneda books in University. Fifteen years passed and I am reminded of the
Anthropological curiosity that lead me to go beyond the initial fear of death
and darkness as a youngster and the search for that truth and strength that
lies within. The Journey of self-discovery lasts a whole life time. Looking
forward to find what lies around the next corner in the forest or that rabbit
hole in the trickiest lands. The lioness in me has never been this
fearless!
