I woke up, hungry from my fast, and heard the howl of a mountain lion right outside my tent. My heart dropped, and the sounds of the birds fluttering away amplified the feeling of butterflies flying in my stomach, desperately searching for a way out. The closest person was 4 miles away, and the closest people past him were another 2 miles. But let's rewind to how I got in this situation in the first place - alone, fasting, in the middle of a desert, sharing camp with a mountain lion.
I went to an incredible high school that fostered alternative education. I went on many backpacking trips through my school's outings program, and even led some. At the end of the year, all seniors are given the choice of participating in a Vision Quest. A Vision Quest is mirrored after an old Native American rite-of-passage, that is meant to be both collective and individual. We were going to go out into the Californian desert with a group of about 14 of our classmates and 5 adult leaders. We were going to spend three days as a group and three days in a solo spot completely alone. It came at a perfect time for us, allowing us the space to transition from adolescents to adulthood. It was never a choice for me about whether or not I would do a Vision Quest - it had been calling me all year, beckoning me to face myself in the wildnerness.
We embarked, the 20 of us, and headed out into the mid-Californian desert. We spent the first day in talking circles, creating a group bond and opening ourselves up to the wild experience. For me, the most memorable talking circle was the female only talking circle. For the first time, I had witnessed and been a part of a group of females who were opening up and being brutally honest, loving, and supporting towards one another. We had the option of fasting, and I chose to not eat during my solo. Because of that, I had been on a special diet for the past month of mostly clean, vegetarian food. We cooked this vegeterian food together, and some of us enjoyed our last meals. On our second day we all went out to find our solo spot. We were each given a topographic map and 3 six liter bottles of water to carry out. I set out through the valley, determined to find the perfect spot. A couple hours into my search I came across a beautiful hill and began to climb up, only to be surprised with mountain lion tracks. I turned around, not wanting to share territory. An hour or so later I had found my spot. It was up a little cliff-side overlooking the valley. I had my own niche, and was the watcher of the desert land. Elated with my spot, I left my water there and set back towards base camp.
We all had to mark on the map where we had chosen for our solo spot. The person closest to us was our "rock buddy". I was the furthest away from the whole group, and the closest person to me was about a 4 mile walk away. My rock buddy, Jonathan, and I picked who would be the morning person and who would be the evening person. Two days later when we set out for our solo, Jonathan and I found a meeting spot between our two camps. Every morning Jonathan was going to go to this site and create a rock pile, and every evening I was going to go to this site and change the rock pile. If one of us were to arrive and find the pile unchanged during the three day solo, it would mean the other person was in danger and unable to reach the pile. This was the security measure for our Vision Quest - high tech huh?
On our last night as a group, we were all getting pretty emotional and nervous. I had a private meeting with one of the adult leaders. Her name was Laura, and she was one of the most kind, beautiful, and nurturing women I had ever met. I told her what my intentions were for my Vision Quest, and I told her my concerns.
My intentions:
- To learn how to love myself.
- To learn how to have a healthier relationship with males.
- To learn how to heal from past experiences.
She looked at me, and looked down at her rose quartz necklace hanging from her neck. Slowly she took it off and said, "My mentor gave this to me when I was your age. I am giving it to you for your solo as protection." Then she offered to share with me some rituals that I could perform during my solo in order to honor my intentions. After, she told me that we all have male and female energies inside of us, and asked me to try and call on my animus, which is the inner masculine part of the female personality. She told me that my animus would always be there for me, and if I could find my animus, I could learn how to love myself without having a male love me. If I could find my animus, I would truly understand that I am a complete being, and contain both the male and female energy within me.
I set off the next day, unsure of what lay ahead. I arrived at my solo spot in the afternoon after saying an emotional goodbye to Jonathan at our chosen rock pile site. I set up my tent and then just sat with myself. It is scary to be alone. It is terrifying, because then you don't have any thing else to distract you from yourself. I had to sit with myself. I had to sit with myself for the next 72 hours and learn to love myself. What?!? How was I supposed to do that?? That night I called on my animus, and felt this presence come and wrap itself around me. I felt engulfed in myself, in this other side of myself that I had rejected for so long. I had been taught by societal constructs that as a female, I was only of value if males loved me. I had never been taught that it was okay to invite in my masculine side. I had never been taught that I was a complete being, just the way I was. I had never experienced the uniting of my male and female energies until this night, and in this night I took one of many steps towards in loving myself.
The next day I woke up, hungry from my fast, and heard the howl of a mountain lion right outside my tent. My heart dropped, and the sounds of the birds fluttering away amplified the feeling of butterflies flying in my stomach, desperately searching for a way out. The closest person was 4 miles away, and the closest people after him were another 2 miles. I waited in my tent for about 30 minutes, and slowly peaked out. For those of you who have not been to a California desert, it is freezing during the night and blazing during the day. The night before it had snowed. As I emerged out of my tent, still petrified, I saw mountain lion paw prints in the snow, circling my tent. I saw them trail off and disappear past the rock behind me. My immediate thoughts were, "I have to get out of here! Oh my god I am going to be eaten by a mountain lion!". However, I ended up staying. Why did I stay? I can't tell you for sure, but something told me that I needed to face my fear of this big cat. I sat in fear that whole day, and for the next three night I barely slept a wink. The strong winds flapped my tent, and every noise I heard sounded like a mountain lion coming to attack me. The week before, my outdoor education mentor, Peter, had me draw an animal card. These are kind of like tarot cards. I drew the "Bat", and the card told me what was going to be the essence of my Vision Quest. The card stated:
Steeped in the mystery of Mesoamerican tribal ritual is the legend of the Bat. Akin to the ancient Buddhist belief in reincarnation, in Central America, Bat is the symbol of rebirth. The Bat has for centuries been a treasured medicine of the Aztec, Toltec, Tolucan, and Mayan peoples.
Bat embraces the idea of shamanistic death. The ritual death of the healer is steeped in secrets and highly involved initiation rites. Shaman death is the symbolic death of the initiate to the old ways of life and personal identity. The inititation that brings the right to heal and to be called shaman is necessarily preceded by ritual death. Most of these rituals are brutally hard on the body, mind, and spirit. In light of today's standards, it can be very difficult to find a person who can take the abuse and come through it with their balance intact.
The basic idea of ancient initiations was to break down all the former notions of "self" that were held by the shaman-to-be. This could entail brutal tests of physical strength and psychic ability, and having every emotional "button" pushed hard. Taunting and spitting on the initiate was common, and taught him or her to endure the duress with humility and fortitude. The final initiation step was to be buried in the earth for one day and to be reborn without the former ego in the morning.
This ritual is very similar to the night of fear practiced by natives of Turtle Island. in this ritual, the shaman-to-be is sent to a certain location to dig his or her grave and spend the night in the womb of Mother Earth totally alone, with the mounth of the grave covered by a blanket. Darkness, and the sounds of animals prowling, quickly confronts the initiate with his or her fears.
If there was ever a card to match my experience, or an experience to match my card, this was it. I was living and experiencing a shaman death - death of the ego. I was left alone, and at night I lay by myself wrapped up in my own fears until I could not fear any more. FEAR. FEAR. FEAR. FEAR. FEAR. That was all that beat through my heart during the nights. For the next two mornings, at around the same time, the mountain lion would reappear and growl at my shadow inside of the tent. FEAR. FEAR. FEAR. FEAR. FEAR. That was the chant of my soul. I truely believed that I had to stay in that spot and face the mountain lion in order to fill myself so greatly with fear that I could fear no longer. People had always told me, "Don't fear anything. There is nothing in life to fear but fear itself. Fear will be your biggest disability in life". However, here, fear was my biggest strength. I feared so much that I feared fear out of my body. What do I mean by this? I mean that once I truly feared death, and believed I was going to die, there was nothing else in life that I was scared of. Feeling real fear of death allowed me to cherish so fully the life I had been given. I wanted to return to my family. And I wanted to love them. Further, I wanted to return alive, and I wanted to love myself. Honoring my own life was the next in many steps towards learning to love myself.
This story will be continued tomorrow...
As I did not bring a camera with me on my journey, my friend Lizzy Elliot graciously has allowed me to use photos from her Vision Quest. All photos were taken by Lizzy.