RCG Retreat -- The Tale of Tangle & Hecate (Part II of II; November 12-14)
Earth, Air, Fire, Water
I am the Witch's daughter
Hecate is me, And I am She
Saturday (Continued)
The afternoon wore into evening, and my food team had dinner for the night. We made a huge salad, multi-ingredient possible salad in tons of bowls, and one of the women made this amazing vegetarian chili, I'm still dying for the recipe of because it was phenomenal. I spent a lot of time chopping and then, to everyone surprise, cleaning everything, so all of our dishes were done by the time dinner came off.
During it I got borrowed from kitchen duties to be educated on the tiny task I had for the evening's ritual, which was a rather small, starting point piece. Being asked earlier in the week to help was a surprise, but also a special honor to me. And it didn’t impinge at all on my taking part in experiencing what would come later.
Dinner was amazing and people worked on finishing their dolls, before we separated to prepare for, and gathered again in the main house, for the weekend's main ritual. At this point I gathered from everyone their green object brought as requested for ritual time (mine was the peridot necklace gifted to me as a bridesmaid of kyllo's wedding) and their dolls. I walked down and set up things where they were supposed to be, waiting in the dark for the group on its way down to pass me.
Then I joined them in the circle, for singing, which we did for a while. There was a little more discussion on the next step in Tangles story. Having flown down through the dark woods, past the guardian tree, and come to the cottage. We were broke off into groups of three's with the women who were leading the night and we all parted ways.
I stayed closed to the dark fire ring, with my group, under the moonlight unneeding of flashlights, listening to what would come next. We would take turns being the tank of Air Fish that had cleansed Tangle. In turn we would ask each women what she'd most wanted to hear as a child and never had, or what she most needed to hear now. And then, if it was the woman's wish we would touch her softly, and speak those words, and any near them that came to mind.
I went third and asked for an affirmation, that mistakes aren't the end of the world, adding that however people wanted to say it or touch me, was perfectly fine by me. It was odd and interesting hearing how all the voices blurred and blended in and out of each other. For minutes on end, the soft stroke of hands or trace of shapes by fingers. I remember clips of phrases.
And the one that shocked me and stayed,
When you were young you had growing pains from your bones,
These now are only the growing pains of your soul
I felt so humbled, and so loved. Under the rays of the gentle moon, loving on my sisters, remembering that all of us need the same things, as adults and children, even when it comes in different words. It all comes down to the same ideas, the same circuits and cycles. That is what this group gives me, too. The knowledge I am not alone in what I have been or done, am and am doing, and will be.
We talked, huddled close and loving on each other, waiting for the other groups to return to us. We began singing when the second group returned and remained doing so until the last group returned from high in the woods. And after that we turned toward gazebo, strung in clothes and held in darkness, with the faintest twinkling lights inside of it. One by one we walked and together we entered as a group.
Inside in the darkness was a table, lain with mirror slats, upon which sat three tall lit candles in Red and Green and Yellow, about two dozen tiny unlit candles in glass holders, all of our dolls and something clipped. We spoke of the cottage that Tangle had stayed in, and the goddess who had held her and taught her. Of the gifts that she had been given.
From our main leader of the weekend, we were gifted in that darkness a necklace with a tiny crystal fish as Tangle was gifted when she had to leave. And then, each woman was asked to take one of the green articles of clothing or objects from the pile collected. A piece that wasn't her own and to find the owner, to dress her as she was newly cleaned and love and taught to see the world.
Then we turned to even more work, many of us, with our fingers at our throat petting the small crystal charms. Hecate was invoked first by one of the leaders, and then every woman was asked to pick up one of the tiny glass candles, to one by one, with the light from the candle of the woman to her side, cast the circle again and invoke Hecate into herself.
We were bade to sit on the floor, taking our candle and a large sheet mirror from under the table. We meditated on Hecate within ourselves, to hear the messages she, too, had to give. It was an interestingly profound time for me, balancing my mirror and holding my candle, listening to the words of the wind, in the silent room, so full of flickering lights.
Afterwards we talked about what we had seen and heard, but I chose to keep mine to myself, to my heart, as I'm doing so tonight. It's very fragile and deep for me, something I'm still working on now. We left our mirrors and candles down there, but were promised we could get each in the morning, as we went back out to start the bonfire. There was some laughing, dancing and singing.
I wasn't really in the mood for it, but I stayed with everyone and sang, watching the fire and the dancers. We moved back inside the main building and then we were given another small crystal fish for our Doll's to match the one's Hecate had given us in ritual. We were allowed to do whatever we'd like to do with them, and invited to dress them in green if we wanted to, too, as Tangle and we, ourselves, had been.
After a while spent doing and considering, two of us delighted off and, losing clothing like air, fell into the glorious hot tub. There's nothing like being in a steaming hot tub out under the stars when it's forty degrees outside. Heavenly. And full of amazing conversations, as more and more people joined.
There was a lot of laughter and some real time talk, on a few different parts. I love seeing people relax there in this way. Let go, give over, into the water, in the heat, into the cold. Sometimes, for me, it's just as fun to sit on the edge of the tub once I've been in forever, watching me skin steam as the cold air dries away the water, no longer feeling cold.
I don't remember all I did that night. I remember that I stayed up later, until midnight or one, so as not to end up listening to too much talking in my people-filled bed-holding house, but I don't remember a lot of the detail. The laughter of people I hold so incredibly dear. The smiles and sleepy yawns. Lots of conversation, more people knitting.
And then, eventually, I slipped off to bed.
Sunday
I woke up Sunday a lot like I woke up Saturday, grousing and promising myself that next time I would sleep in the main building again, even if it meant on the couch. Because I couldn't take so much talking so close and still get enough sleep. I wasn't really cranky about it. It's not any of those people's fault I can't sleep through what other people can. Just a might frustrating, and worth planning to avoid for next time.
Sunday morning was slow and food was nice, and there was a lot of conversation, but mostly what I remember from early Sunday morning conversations is Hope. I was giddy with lightness from a lot of the work that I'd been doing, and I wanted to share it or just be happy with and near her. Except that her weekend had gone pretty much antithetical to mine. Especially that morning.
I did choose to have the serious talks that morning, because I don't want her to feel there is anywhere in my life she can't talk to me when and if she needs to, but it did bring things down a little. From the hemisphere of space and stars to reality. To a subject of incredibly deep, unwavering severity, that it was the first time I heard of it, and for me has even conflated itself into being even more so since then.
And so I talked to her until morning practices started. We did dances for the Triple Soul's Sticky Little One, Shining Body, and Sacred Dove. I feel as though I should point out I'm using the word 'dances' there very liberally to my own definition even. It was called 'dances' but really we stood still in one place and did specific movements over and over. And then a breath meditation for each.
Our last activity of the morning and the weekend was our dolls. We broke up into groups of two (or three in my case, for we had an extra person) and then handed our doll to our partners. They were allowed to say the words we'd written there and to talk about how things on them were interpret by them. How words moved together, how placement effect what we thought of certain words.
It was very different and affirming, and fragile making. Because all of us had become so attached to our dolls and what our dolls said about ourselves. And this part was intensely personal to everyone involved. So instead of sharing that with you, I'm going to share my doll with you. So that you can see what my poppet is and why I love making them every year.
After this was clean-up for a long time, until we were very much almost among the very last to leave. Cleaning up food, folding sheets, dragging trash containers to curbs, remaking beds and rooms, and putting off hugging people goodbye. I almost got teary. I'm still learning this whole new!Amanda who actually gets urges to cry when hugging people goodbye she'll see in four days.
(Huh. This moment here, right now, writing that, may have been the very first in my life where that idea didn't seem like an insult. That instead, maybe, just maybe, I could live and love and find a way to be proud of even the sentimentality of my heart on my shoulder. Even in this way. Small steps. Incredibly microscopic baby steps, and no rushing what is still a two decade process.)
There's at least one I won't see for months, and I will dearly miss her.
Cleaning was done, and hugging, and we piled into cars and headed home. I played music all the way home and meditated a lot upon the promise I'd made that morning that I had to fulfil that night. I made it all the way through the rest of the Songs For Your Life playlist for People. Thinking perhaps far too much, about many things, but then that is what these weekends do.