by Ana L. Palles

The final task for our Shamanic Practitioner Certification Program was a Vision Quest over two days and two nights in a wilderness area of northwestern Utah. In a six foot circle we were to remain alone with our sleeping bags, water and waste disposal essentials for two days of prayer, illumination, and divine guidance.

Prior to driving out to Utah, all of us spent time preparing for the quest. We spent time in introspection and organizing our homes for our returns, as if we were to welcome back a beloved guest. We knew that we would be different when we got back. Part of my own preparation included receiving healing, blessing and support from three close friends and practitioners. During my vision quest, each of them were present in very different, powerful and, at times, humorous ways. I am grateful for the strength and support they sent me.

It was an adventure that most of us looked forward to with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. For those of us who had grown up in the city, the idea of being alone in the dark in the wilderness was frightening. We knew how to survive in the city and would have no problem walking home from the subway late at night. But place us out alone in the dark and cold with trees, a stream, unfamiliar sounds and creatures great and small, and suddenly we wanted nothing more than to be in the middle of a crowded Manhattan street, a familiar turf where we knew the rules.

Fortunately for us, there were no bears on the property. Unfortunately, there were mountain lions, rattlesnakes and a big, bachelor moose that kept wandering through the meadow sizing us up. We were quite happy that the moose found us no threat, that he had no amorous inclinations towards us, and that he mostly just watched from afar. Snakes didn’t worry me. Frankly, they would rather leave us alone and go about their business. It was our responsibility to watch where we walked and do our best to avoid their burrows.

But the idea of mountain lions did scare me somewhat. I read about mountain lions and was finding that they attack quite silently. They often attack from behind, and you never see them coming. “Not to worry about that,“ commented a sympathetic friend over coffee one day, “you’ve worked long enough in corporate," she exclaimed, "you should be used to that!”  I chuckled as I took a sip of my latte, clearly dealing with this fear was up on the list for me. 

After arriving at our Utah destination, we spent several days in camp preparing ourselves for our vision quest and our fast.  It would entail participating in a sweat lodge ceremony twice.  The first time, just prior to going to our circles and then again, upon our return from our fast as the sweat lodge entrance represents navigating a birth cana. 

I very much enjoyed the sweat lodge ceremony.  Everything was handled with dignity and ceremony as we sat inside the steamy lodge and prayed our intent into the dark.

I think part of the reason I so enjoyed it was that I love steam rooms. A nice long steam on a day spa visit is a joy, sweating all the toxins out and getting the circulation moving. Our leader took small handfuls of herbs and sprinkled the hot volcanic stones with them before ladling them with water. The warmth and moisture felt great on my skin and I took deep breaths of herb-infused air. The combination of the sacred space and the wonderfully scented healing mist made it heavenly. Different herbs were used as each direction was called. I remember Juniper, Cedar and the wonderfully protective and healing Osha root, also known as Bear root taking turns within that circle.

One of the purposes of the sweat lodge ceremony is to leave the past behind, in order to facilitate transformation based upon the intent of your prayers and your quest. Our leader spent a great deal of time working with us on formulating our intent, so that it was clear and structured. I thought about fairy tales I had read when I was younger where the main character is granted several wishes, and even though the wishes are granted literally, they are not what the person had intended. The lesson did not fall on deaf ears. All of us spent some time thinking about our intent and being mindful of it.

We finished the lodge ceremony in silence and our sponsors helped us change from our lodge clothes into the clothes we would be wearing for the next two days while in our circles. So, we donned pants, layered shirts and jackets and then gathered our packs and jugs of water and headed up the hill.

The previous afternoon had been spent ceremonially gathering the sage that would be used by our sponsors to set our circles. I was happy walking the hillside in the late afternoon sun. I had followed a ladybug and let her guide me to various bushes. As a child, I often played with ladybugs and remember laughing at their tickle as they walked across my hands and sometimes landed on my cheeks. I carried these sage stems up to my site and in the cold of the approaching night, they still held a bit of the glow and warmth of the blazing sun.

We were in a waxing crescent moon and the stars were just coming out when we arrived at the site. My sponsor, a powerful and amazing woman, set the previously prepared space for me. She blessed me and braided feathers in my hair for protection and warrior’s strength.

Before she left, she gave me a talisman she had made for me and fashioned with great care in a shamanic manner. The talisman was magnificent and I felt the energy within it as I held it in my hand. It had a wooden handle that was a branch from a tree, the top of which had a hole bored through. A length of rawhide attached a piece of Elkhorn with sage and feathers cupping the Elkhorn in perfect symmetry. The handle was painted with red, black, yellow, and white sacred symbols. The beauty of the work and the purity of the intent with which it was handmade spoke of love and nurturing.

As I settled down in my circle to watch the stars and wait through the night, I held that talisman close to my heart. I watched many, magical shooting stars travel across the sky as I huddled close in my sleeping bag and jacket in the cold night. Our first night of vision quest was on the Summer Solstice.

As I sat shivering, I was grateful that this was the shortest night of the year. Soon the warm sun would rise again and the challenge would be the heat. But for now, I found that being alone in the dark night in the woods did not fill me with any terror. I was not afraid. I sent a silent prayer of thanks to three loving friends back home whose support was palpable.

I watched a moving light in the sky, noticing that its path seemed planned rather than random, moving forwards and backwards. I tried to determine if it was a plane when some sort of ground squirrel or chipmunk decided I was an intruder and began chewing on my sleeping bag. As shamanic students, the only item we could bring for protection was our rattle. It was then that I remembered that some of my fellow students had commented that my rattle sounded eerily like a rattlesnake.

I knew that the little creature would not want to mess with a rattlesnake, so I pulled out my hand and shook my rattle visualizing a snake as I curled it in my palm. The nibbling stopped immediately and there was a mad dash made for the bushes and trees on my right. I had no more little visitors to my circle during my stay. Though, the following morning, I did get an earful of complaints from chattering critters and even imagined a tiny fist being shaken in my direction. It’s quite funny having a little tiny rodent perched on a log, making eye contact and squealing at you for all it’s worth. I am sure if he’d had them handy, he would have thrown rocks straight at my forehead. But, he was a busy guy and soon decided that I’d had enough chastisement.

I got up that morning grateful for the warmth of the sun. I understood perfectly why so many ancient cultures worshipped the sun. I said my own prayer of thanks. I craved the touch of those warm rays on my skin and I felt great joy at seeing the bright glowing disc rising above the mountain silhouette. I easily pictured a smiling face on the climbing sun and realized how grateful I was that our sun rose each day. I thought of the stories of Osiris and Isis and I could understand how those myths had taken life.

As I looked across the banks of the creek, I saw a pair of deer making their way around the edge. The larger one of the two stopped and looked at me, holding eye contact perfectly still. Its smaller mate walked carefully and slowly towards her partner, all the while keeping an eye on my movements.

We remained that way for a few minutes, the deer finally deciding to continue moving. The lead deer was ready to go, but there was some hesitation on the part of its smaller companion. The grass was moist and cool by the stream and it was going to be a hot day. A few quick flicks of the ears and both deer headed off into the open meadow without making a sound. The only indication that they had been there at all was the waving of a few tall grass heads.

I stood up, stretched and bowed, offering prayers of thanks to my loved ones whose support I felt all around me. I was still amazed that I had not gone to pieces in fear throughout the night, so strong was their love that I felt safe. I made it a point to thank my fellow classmates and sent them prayers and blessings that they might all find what they sought. It was a time of endings for us as a group, so I did a personal ceremony to release any burdensome ties still clinging to my friends. I had made some deep connections and as we each went our separate ways, the friendships would shift and reconstruct.

I had kidded around with one of my practitioner friends that we would converse in spirit while I was on vision quest. With such a beautiful morning before me, I decided it was a fine time to attempt having my conversation with her. It was quite an easy and interesting talk. A few weeks later, my friend and I were having lunch when she told me that she had been driving off to an early morning appointment when she suddenly started having a conversation with me while she drove. She told me what was said and it was eerily accurate. We had a good laugh and one of those moments that make you go “hmm.”

At one point, I was sitting drinking my water and enjoying my morning when I turned around and had the strongest sense that I was watching my daughter come down the path. I had been wondering how she was doing, and as I saw what I took for her spirit approach, I realized that she was deliberately projecting herself to check on me. She didn’t stay long and the sense of her presence slowly dissipated. I chuckled and made a note to myself to ask her about it when we got back.

The rest of that first day passed pretty uneventfully. I had a bush in the center of my circle that had a number of black ants climbing in it and laying what I thought to be egg sacks in the stems. These were white globules that hung close to the center stalks of the plant. The black ants didn’t bite and they were quite industrious. I made a deal with them that I would try not to disturb their work or their nests, and if I accidentally squished any of them, they needed to realize it was just that, an accident.

I had no choice but to lie curled up against the bush if I was to stay in my circle. The position I was in would give my chiropractor great cause for wonder as to how I got my alignment so out of whack. But, leaning against the bush during the night did provide a sense of comfort.

I spent a pretty frigid night that first night and decided that I would rework my little camp to setup a warmer night for myself. For one thing, I couldn’t locate my sock liners in the dark and I had also just found a set of gloves tucked in a pocket. I realized that given my height, I had extra length on my sleeping bag that was going unused. If I set it up right, I could fashion a much warmer hood arrangement for myself.

I made it a point to start setting up for the night as soon as the sun began to skim the trees behind me. This way I would have enough light to see what I was doing. At some point in the late afternoon, in spite of my best efforts to stay awake, I had fallen asleep laying on my side and face down against my pack. It seemed to be a dreamless sleep. The type of sleep that feels like it is a sudden exit from consciousness, as if someone simply turned out the light. I had to be totally out, because I really dislike sleeping face down.

I have no idea how long I was asleep before I heard a voice call my name from behind. It sounded like my sponsor. In my mind, I thought that she was by to check on me and saw that I had fallen asleep. I was very happy that I would be seeing her and groggily sat up turning to find her. But, there was no one there. I answered her back a few times, thinking maybe she was off in the bushes, but there was no response.

The sun was going down and I had just a short while to get my little camp ready for the approaching cold. As I lay there looking up at the stars, I wondered if the voice belonged to my sponsor back at camp, holding space for me, my guardian angel, or one of my friends who had been enfolding me in their support. I lay there in deep gratitude for my many blessings.

My plan to stay warmer worked and I was better prepared on that second night. I had no visits from my loud, reprimanding chipmunk friend, but I did see a raccoon silently make its way across the tree behind me. He was young but seemed experienced enough to evaluate danger and move along his path. He looked at me briefly and I could see a set of intelligent eyes dismiss me as no immediate threat.

Sometime during the night, I estimated around two in the morning, something thrashed around in the bushes beside me. It could have been any number of small animals, and I decided it would be wise to pull out that rattle again. I sank deep into the earth I was laying on and shook my rattle all the while visualizing that big rattlesnake.

It must have worked quite well because the next thing I knew whatever it was went plunging off in the opposite direction. I am sure my little chipmunk friend was sitting there shaking his head and thinking the neighborhood had gone completely to pot.

The night sky was beautiful and I found myself wishing I was out there with a telescope. So many shooting stars in the great vastness of space, how marvelous it must have been for the ancients to see so much in that sky. I could see planets and twinkling stars swathed across the tops of the mountains straight in front of me. I wondered if we could see the space station in orbit from here and made it a point to look for something that might resemble it. It was an awe-inspiring sight knowing that I was looking out at a multitude of worlds whose inhabitants we would one day meet. I wondered if perhaps I was out here on this vision quest so that I could reach out and connect across time and space, using the consciousness Bohrs suggested to communicate and ask my questions.

Prior to coming up the hill, I spent time formulating my intent for my vision quest. Simply stated, I wanted to see with clarity and clear away illusions or self-delusions. I wasn’t after ultimate truth; I was after removal of the veils in front of my eyes. I wanted enablement to see the truth when I came upon it. The obvious question asked by my fellow classmates was, what made me think I wasn’t seeing it now? Wasn’t it simply a question of trust? The answer came back to yes, it was precisely that. Trust in myself, trust that I was indeed on my path and not simply convincing myself of an image on a postcard.

The softness of the night and my ponderings let me slip into sleep once again. It was in the hush of a tentative morning light that I saw a Blue Heron. I had opened my eyes in wonder that I had even been asleep when I saw the beautiful bird in the tree just to my left. It was looking directly at me and I wondered how long it had been watching me while I slept. Was it guarding me through the night? When had it arrived, so silently that I had not heard the rustle of the leaves just a few feet away?

I could see why they called it the Great Blue Heron. The birds’ wing span was quite impressive and once he realized I was awake and stirring, he decided his work was done and that it was time to leave. He stretched his wings out barely disturbing the air. With a breathy shush, he turned and flew north across the fields. If I had come for nothing else, here was my gift. That beautiful Blue Heron was the message I had come to see.

I sat up and wrapped my sleeping bag around me. The sun slowly made its way towards me and soon would be close enough to warm my face. In the soft morning light, I simply sat, looking out across the stream in the direction that the heron had flown, in order to see, perhaps, if I would catch another glimpse of its graceful lines.

The morning was peaceful. I watched the movement of the birds and squirrels that had finally gotten used to seeing me around even if somewhat reluctantly. My chipmunk friend did his morning rounds scampering around the log behind me and giving me the occasional squawk of annoyance. He made me laugh and I could almost picture him muttering under his breath, shaking his tiny little fist in my direction before continuing on his way.

I said my prayers of thanks and created a little rest area for myself by rolling up my sleeping bag and leaning it up against my back pack. I sat with my knees up reclining and watching the stream and field beyond it. Periodically, I stood up and did some forward bends. There was not enough room to do much in the way of yoga, but I wanted to stretch out my back and get the circulation in my legs moving at least. A few rounds of marching in place, a couple of yoga warrior poses and I felt more myself.

As the day warmed up, I removed layers of clothing using them to further pad my little lounge arrangement. I sat staring out across the stream, the trail from which we had first entered the camp on my right. The afternoon sun cast a warm glow on the world around me. and I sat immersed in peace and beauty. I felt an unexpected hand on top of my head. and heard my name being called, softly but decisively.

It felt so loving and tender that I immediately thought it was my sponsor Jeannie returning for me and I began to smile in great happiness. However, it was quite a surprise for me when I turned around and found nobody there. I looked in the bushes around me and called out her name, but there was no one about. I wasn’t sure what happened because I had been fully awake contemplating my surroundings, and the sensation had been very physical.

My name had been called very clearly and distinctly. But most important of all, I still felt the warmth of that hand that had cupped the top of my head. It had felt like a blessing. Sitting back down in my little enclave, I picked up my talisman and rock and said thank you while I took deep breaths of a wonderful feeling of serenity and love that seemed to envelope me.

Late in the afternoon, the time for our pickup fast approached. I was feeling good about my experience and suddenly had a strong desire to sing. My daughters always joke that I make up my own lyrics to songs and that I am always off time. Guilty as charged! I may not be an accurate or a good singer, but at least I’m a happy one. I sat in my circle and sang several of the songs I remembered from Godspell, JC Superstar and, of course, the song “It’s a Brand New Day” from folk masses during my teen years. I remembered the young priest with the piercing blue eyes playing his guitar at mass and thumping it in ecstatic joy during the climaxing notes of that particular song. It was definitely one of our high school class’ favorites.

I heard later that several of the vision questers started singing right late that last afternoon. As we stood by the fire at eleven that night eating our simple breaking the fast meal of rice, vegetables and buffalo, one of the questers asked who had been singing Schubert’s Ave Maria. I knew immediately it had been my daughter since she had been learning that particular piano piece and is a trained soprano. Several in the group suddenly nodded with quiet understanding and said thank you for that.

I am grateful.