Living My Life Like It's Golden, Pt. II: Sacred Ritual - Page 3

We got seated in the yurt, some on chairs, others like myself on zafu, or meditation pillows. Upon entering the space, I made a beeline for the coal-burning stove, next to which was a mudcloth-like rug and two chairs. When I announced my intention to take one of the seats, Toni, a participant and facilitator shook her head, saying "there's where Malidoma is sitting." I'd figured as much, but hey it was worth a shot. I grabbed a cushion and parked my bad ass on the floor with everyone else. One thing I noticed from that vantage is that the law of nakedness extends to feet. At nude beaches and other venues, it's always the people that you don't want to see naked who are always the first to strip down. Shoes had to remain off and outside of all the Zen Center structures, even the rooms for overnight guests. But that didn't mean you couldn't wear socks. I saw some ugly toes that night, real ugly. Woof.

Across the way from me were a few drummers. Again, some were participants who'd brought their drums and others were there specifically to drum, particularly the next day. Drums figured prominently in the events that were to take place and eventually led to my newest acquisition—a djembe—but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Malidoma and the woman who was introduced as his partner, sat front and center, or at least what goes for front and center in a round space. For an hour or so he regaled us with his unique blend of sagacious knowledge and irreverent humor. He is softspoken but in a way that allows his speech sound like it's directed intimately to you rather than simply being difficult to hear. He made some general comments, similar to the one's I'd heard from his mouth this past March. I received his words differently though. A relaxed yet simmering excitement was present that was different from the delight I'd experienced hearing him speak in a Jewish Temple, with a couple hundred people seated in pews. His talk then was also more structured: during the temple lecture, Somé had been "the respected indigenous healer" who came to deliver an interesting talk about theoretical ideas, i.e. the kind that you think about and possibly internalize. In the yurt, Somé came across more as an older brother with thoughts to share about actionable ideas, i.e. tips and suggestions culled from personal experience that might come in handy but hey it's up to you, take 'em or leave 'em, I mean who am I to tell you what to do? It's your experience. The effect was both daunting and comforting. He was telling us that he couldn't tell us what we would experience because we would make the experience. He told us that he wouldn't tell us how to the make the experience because the experience would be made and only then would we know how it had occurred. I thought, "what the fuck is he talking about? what is he doing? correction, what are we going to do? how can we do anything if we don't know what it is we're supposed to do?" Hold that last question.

Article Author: mpho

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