I love my boots. I love my boots. Really. I haven’t fallen *once* since I started wearing them regularly. I feel naked when I can’t wear them. I’m slowly teaching myself how to take care of them. I totally want a boot-jack to get them off, and a boot hook to get them on.
And I have sex camp, and Lee Harrington, to thank for breaking them in.
Lee decided to make use of a Labyrinth that had been built on the camp grounds, and hold an open Labyrinth ritual. At dusk on Friday, after dinner, we all started to gather out side on the porch and wait for things to get started.
I got to meet a nice man named Ribbert then; we had been writing to each other on the camp site about his offer to do tarot readings at camp, which I took him up on. I love to read for myself, but there is something to be said for getting an outside reading. Others can see things you don’t want, or simply can’t, see.
We chatted while people gathered, and Lee showed up with a case of bottled water, so we could each have a bottle during the ritual.
We stood in a circle and were given instructions; we would walk to the site of the Labyrinth in silence, we would stop every ten minutes or so for people to catch their breath, pee, or otherwise relax. We were to take as little with us as we needed so not to be burdened. We all had flashlights. I wore my new boots (I wound up taking my purse, with my bottled water and a poncho. It was raining…and I’m a New Yorker. I can carry my purse through anything.) Others would take a golf cart, and the short route, ahead of us to consecrate and set up the site.
Then we prayed, and started the walk.
It was very intense, walking along through the dark woods, the only light being our flashlights. It was wet, and hot, and the ground was rough. I fell into ritual space very quickly. It felt natural to stay silent, to be walking through the woods at night.
Its funny, how one of the few times I can really let go and stop caring about how I look, appear or present is during ritual. I fall into it so naturally and easily, and it makes me long to have a group of my own to practice with out here.
As I said, the hike was intense, at least for me. I felt like it was over in an instant, and that it went on forever. When we reached the site of the Labyrinth, there were drummers, and people holding flashlights to light up the Labyrinth.
Lee gave us suggestions on how to walk the Labyrinth – there was a long and a short way to the middle. Taking one meant you would take the other way out. He said we could talk, or be silent, as the spirit moved us, and he went first.
It was beautiful, and amazing to watch people go through the Labyrinth, some sharing some deeply personal feelings with us, strangers and friends, and to watch how people interacted with the experience. We instinctually knew when to raise and lower out lights, and I am always amazed at how drumming during rituals can match a person’s needs.
By the time the first section of the group had walked, I was already in tears. It seems me crying on the first night of camp is going to become a tradition.
When it was my turn, I was quiet, except for the crying. I went in the short way, and left the long. When I reached the middle, I fell to my knees to pray for a while.When I left, I was still crying, and Ribbert was sweet enough to hold me while I calmed down. It took quite a while, because the entire experience was overwhelming.
In the actual moment, during the entire ritual, I had a cathartic, beautiful experience. There was no divine flash of insight, nothing crazy like that. But it opened up my mind, and allowed me to take in information and make some realizations and decisions I needed to make about myself. It was a truly beautiful, and to me, very meaningful, experience.
I’m very greatful to Lee for having this ritual with us. It meant a lot to me on many levels.
And it broke in my boots. I’m sure there is a metaphor in there somewhere, but I’ll leave it at that.
