Do they long for wings to fly - to carry them into the night where they can draw close to the moon and howl to their ancestors. i would like the same. howling at my ancestors. during the shamanic journey my dead grandma answered me. i traveled underground through an open tree into a field where i rode a horse. when we stopped, i asked the woman, why am i here? to give love, she said. no, thats not what i mean. what is my purpose? To give love - she said it sternly this time, the way i remember her. she was strong and confident and assertive. she was small and frail and uncertain. she was needy and insecure, she was mean and funny. she was judgmental and accepting. she was a conundrum. Your hair is your glory, she said to me when I cut all mine off. But she was kind. She was hard to understand with her West Virginia accent and missing teeth. She was beautiful with her straight gray hair and wrinkles. A commanding presence, a matriarch. But I digress. Why do wolves howl at the moon? Or do they? Do they cry? I want to take a journey to see a medicine woman. A real life Indian Native passed-down-generations healing natural look-into-your-soul ask-the-ancestors-about-you medicine woman. I don’t know why i feel compelled to do this. Do I need to know why? “Everyone has a grandmother who was an Indian princess” he said. My grandmother was no princess.
I saw a film called Embrace of the Serpent. In it, an Amazonian man speaks of Chullachaqui. This is another version of yourself walking around an empty shell. 'Everyone has a Chullachaqui, which looks exactly like the person, but is empty and hollow, a copy that drifts like a ghost'. The man urges the others to 'hear the song of your ancestors.' Does finding the music of your ancestors fill a hollow place inside? I believe that music is part of collective consciousness, and that sound can heal. Many cultures use sound in healing. I feel like, in general, humans have lost their song. I do not know the song of my ancestors. How could I? I don’t know who my ancestors are. Is this the case for many others? And what effect does it have on us?
I watched a documentary about the Native American influence on rock and roll. Rumble: The Indians Who Rocked the World. Drum beats and chanting. I want to make music. My paternal grandmother used to play the organ and sing. I remember my mother made fun of it behind her back. But it didn’t matter to me that her voice was not perfect, if she sang in tune, if she hit the right keys. What made an impression on me was the joy that it gave her, the abandonment of self consciousness, the freedom of expression.
