I have a hard time with dusk, unless it is summer, which of course then it becomes one of my favorite times.
I had no choice in being led out onto the hill in the early evening for my vision quest. My prayer for this ceremony was to release fear in much of the same epiphany I had been able to find before, releasing many things precious to me that no longer worked. It was clear that a certain kind of fear was no longer necessary, not an option. I could ask for help to leave this addictive substance, the terror of being alone, behind moment by moment, day by day, just as I had asked for and received help with the other sticky, emotional parts of my life. When I was left alone, by my sleeping bag, to lay raw on the ground in the growing dark, I took a deep breath and climbed in. I laid on my back for a while and stared at the stars. Fortunately I hadn’t sleep much the night before, so I was incredibly tired. I fell asleep easily.
I woke up later, just before the rain came, and looked into the stars again. I was still on my back. I hadn’t moved. I was caught unawares by own softness and surrender. Before I could complain or shudder at the immensity of my pledge, I breathed the night deeply into my lungs. There was a sound all around me, deeper than a rumble, almost like the OMMMMM that I was so familiar with but even deeper, beyond alliteration, beyond forming. I was a child without fear and I felt a loving presence This was the beginning of my vision. “She is here,” I heard the night say to the other spirits hanging their faces over me.