Burning Man and #FuckCancer

Last Wednesday, I registered for the Main Ticket sale for Burning Man 2016. As I hit the “Submit” button, I reflected on my experience last year through Carnival of Mirrors, which heralded my journey with cancer.

 

Embrace at Burning Man

 
I was diagnosed with Stage 4 throat/tongue cancer in July of 2015. I was absolutely devastated by the news. Since I already had a ticket to Carnival of Mirrors, I made the decision to go anyway, choosing to find a way to deal with the increasing pain I was having. I talked with my surgeon, who originally wanted to operate in August, and he agreed that waiting a few more weeks would not significantly hurt my chances of recovery. Indeed, though he has not attended the festival himself, he seemed to grasp the significance of including such an important event as part of my journey and encouraged my attendance. I am sure that on some level, both of us were thinking “do it now, in case you can’t later.”

Carnival of Mirrors was expedition number three for me to Black Rock City. The previous two years had proved to be so profound that I was hooked. Going to Cargo Cult in 2013 was the culmination of spiritual work I had begun in 2012, and luckily, the ticket materialized fairly easily. Caravansary in 2014 was another matter: both the Main Sale and STEP proved fruitless. And while a ticket did eventually appear, I had decided to appeal to the Universe for additional help by volunteering as a Temple Guardian. Perhaps that appeal had an effect: I had an incredible time and my blog about it can be found here.

You may be able to tell by now that Burning Man has taken on a particular spiritual significance for me. So when the cancer diagnosis came down, I took it seriously. The tenor of the entire trip to BRC changed. I reached out to my Temple Guardian family to help me keep up the energy to not only attend, but to continue to make a difference. Even if it would be my last time. 

I found myself struggling with some of the very issues that make the Temple so special: a place to come to terms with Death. Only this time, instead of for loved ones who had passed over during the year, I was contemplating my own. I certainly wasn’t ready to go, but I had quite a number of hurdles to overcome if I was to survive. For me, Burning Man represented a gathering of spiritual and energetic resources to stay grounded. Literally. 

By the time I arrived on the Playa, the pain in my mouth was quite severe. It affected my ability to eat—increasingly, I could only do softer foods—and drink. My camelback became useless as I could no longer draw water through the mouthpiece, so water intake became even more difficult in the harsh environment. I had painkillers, which helped, but whereas I started off the week with one per day, by Wednesday I was forced to take up to three per day. My supply ran out before the week did. One of my Temple Guardian buddies came to the rescue with additional high-dose ibuprofen. They weren’t the prescription pills I had originally brought but they were a life-saver.

If you have ever dealt with severe pain, you know how quickly it saps your daily energy. I ran out of steam early each night; no all night dance parties for me this time around. However, I had made a commitment to the Guardians. As much as I was able, I curtailed my personal activities so that I could fulfill my Temple shifts, some of which were from three to six in the morning. I also had camp shifts to do, though these mainly consisted of helping in the kitchen for breakfast. Coffee helped!

Of course, the other piece that kept me going was the incredible amount of support I received while on Playa. In addition to the Guardians, wonderful friends were constantly checking up on me to make sure I was okay. Craigster, Randy, Greywolf, and Deb were my angels at Camp. Junior and Jim were my saviors by offering me a place to stay when my tent proved completely unsuitable for the Playa. But it was Beverley who was my spiritual haven. Even though new to Burning Man—what fun it was to show the newbie around—she was the constant companion, the shoulder to cry on. She listened to me when I wailed about the unfairness of the whole cancer experience. She consoled me when I contemplated what it would mean if I died, leaving my new husband bereft. These are the people, members of my extended spiritual family, who made Burning Man such an exquisite time of reflection, and even peace.

Maybe it wasn’t my time after all. Maybe it was just sheer stubbornness on my part, but I made it. I survived not one but two surgeries to remove cancer from my tongue and on both sides of my throat. I endured six weeks of radiation and three rounds of chemotherapy. Seven months after Carnival of Mirrors, I am still on leave from work, recuperating from all the treatments. My speech is still impaired though improving and I am relearning how to eat again.

In spite of all that, yes, I registered for Burning Man again today, with full intentions to attend Davinci’s Workshop. Burning Man is, and always has been, much more than a huge party. It is a vision of how I want to live my life, full of passion and creativity. It has played an integral part in one of the toughest challenges of my life to date: cancer. I owe, and acknowledge, an incredible debt of gratitude to the brave souls who started out all those years ago on the beach in San Francisco. You saved my life. 

Blessings and #FuckCancer

Standing in the Fire

It began with a heartfelt plea to the Man:

This year I will be of greater service to the community if I can just get a ticket.

It’s true. I hadn’t seriously considered volunteering until mid-summer, when a ticket to Burning Man didn’t materialize during the main sale. The OMG sale would eventually prove to be just as fruitless, but I didn’t know that at the time. Meditating on the situation, I felt I was going to have to exert some serious Mojo in order to attend; the Man was upping the ante. However, in looking back, I couldn’t have imagined what serious magic I was about to invoke.

In my spiritual tradition, when doing magic to obtain a goal, part of the mindset required for fruition is to proceed as though the goal has already been attained. To that end, my partner and I began all of our normal preparations anyway. However, I decided to put a little something additional on the line: volunteer.

Of course, looking over the list of possible options, Temple Guardian immediately stuck out for me, as I suspect it did for many of us that first time. In the default world, I am also a healer and spirit worker; guardianship of sacred space is what I do. Having a profound experience at the Temple of Wholyness in 2013 also played a part in my decision making process. Indeed, my only regret from last year was in not staying for the Temple Burn. Volunteering as a Temple Guardian took on a special significance though, as I pondered what it would be like to provide that kind of service for a community of 65,000+!

During Training, we were told our responsibilities are:

1. Hold the sacred space of the Temple; and
2. Preserve the safety of the Temple and the participants who visit it.

That’s it.

True to form for Burning Man, this year’s Temple experience went far deeper than I ever dreamed. Friday night and Saturday morning were relatively quiet as far as the shifts themselves went. And although I was prepared for Sunday to be a completely different experience, how could I know it would touch, hurt and comfort me as deeply as it would?

As many would be that Sunday morning, I too was quite surprised when checking in for my shift to learn that the Temple was already closed. In talking to folks in the courtyard, and later at the gate, I was confronted with varying degrees of disappointment and sadness in hearing the news. A small few of the extremely devastated would be invited in last-minute by none other than David himself, the man who was responsible for this year’s Temple design. One couple was not.

She had lost her baby earlier in the year. She didn’t say how, nor did her husband go into a detailed story about why they hadn’t yet made time for the Temple. I can imagine how hard it must have been to even think about it, knowing that the journey must be made anyway. He was stricken, looking past me into the Temple itself. However, she looked directly at me, hearing the words that I had to say, knowing that it was now too late. I met her gaze and offered her the only thing I had in my power to offer her, my open arms. She hesitated ever so slightly, but as she came in for an embrace, I took all of the hours I had spent wandering the courtyard and inside the Temple itself, all of the tears I had personally shed for my own loved ones, all of the memories of witnessing our community members who were meditating/laughing/tearful, all of the visions of the heart-wrenching tributes left behind, and offered them to her for her lost child. He came over too, and together, we sobbed for all of the things that couldn’t be. We stood in the fire together, at the Gate of the Temple.

Later that evening, taking the collective gasp along with thousands of others at the sight of the majestic structure spiraling down to its end, my inner walls would finally come crashing down at the gentle touch of a baby’s breath.

Blessings

Stone & Stang 2014

Once again, the Unnamed Path is hosting a spiritual gathering for Men-Who-Love-Men called Stone and Stang, this time in sunny Northern California. This event is open to MWLM of all pagan and alternative spiritual paths.

For more information visit StoneAndStang.com. Early Registration is available through July 31, 2014.

Stone & Stang: A Spiritual Gathering for

Stone & Stang: A Spiritual Gathering for Pagan Men-Who-Love-Men in So Cal. Registration opens April 15th. http://ow.ly/vuk5w #shamanism

“F” is for Faith

faith
fāTH/
noun

1. complete trust or confidence in someone or something. “This restores one’s faith in humanity.”
synonyms: trust, belief, confidence, conviction

2. strong belief in God or in the doctrines of a religion, based on spiritual apprehension rather than proof.
synonyms: religion, church, sect, denomination, (religious) persuasion, (religious) belief, ideology, creed, teaching, doctrine

While preparing for this week’s post, I came across the above definition for faith, a word that comes with quite a bit baggage these days. The first thing I noted was the ominous overtone in the second definition: “spiritual apprehension”. I found myself wondering why anyone would want to base their spiritual practices, the very soul-nourishing beliefs that keep them going, on another four-letter “f” word, fear.

I have many kinds of faith. I have faith that the sun will rise each morning, even on those days when I can’t see it. I have faith that spring follows winter. At some point, I will see a return of the sun, and buds on the trees. But a tiny spark inside simply trusts that these things will arrive in due time. I just have to be patient enough. However, some kinds of faith are even more elusive.

I remember as a child when my mom spoke to me about faith, she often said “our faith,” meaning Catholicism. While I did receive quite an education about faith from that paradigm, I’m grateful that I learned to look deeper and find something more. Nearly all religious and spiritual traditions teach of striving for something greater than ourselves. Indeed, the very desire to seek such a thing seems inherent to our very nature.

I guess it’s just that independent streak in me, the part that never really wanted to allow someone else to tell me what my beliefs are. I may have mentioned this before but my mother also told me to go out and explore my faith; to find out what’s out there and what brings meaning to my life. And I did.

This topic feels timely right now. When I feel adrift in my life, it’s faith that I return to. It’s not something that I can see or point to. It’s not a magic spell or even a particular spiritual practice. Rather, it’s just a knowing that has taken deep root in my soul. A feeling that all will be well if I just surrender and trust. It’s hardest to hold onto that feeling when events seem to conspire against you. When things are “going my way,” the drama of life just seems to flow unhindered. However, life is also messy, and the hard times can feel like stones in the river, changing its course. In those moments we are called to listen deeply within; the stones may seem to be obstacles to our free-flowing movement, but they also encourage the water to sing. Like a love song to us from the Deepest Mysteries.

For me, the stones have always involved affairs of the heart: the parting of ways with my first love; the utter rejection, with no explanation, of someone who was my world; twice nearly losing my partner Mike; the death of the leader of my spiritual community. Each time, I had to take a long, hard look at the contents of my heart. Yes, pain, worry and fear had all but overrun the garden there. However, some small portion of my happy inner child—that spark—remained, clearing the landscape when it seemed that everything and everyone else had vanished. I had no concrete evidence that all would come out ok in the end, but through faith, I learned to love again. And what it means to let go.

Blessings

A Leap of Faith

In order for a …

In order for a man to fuck, he himself must be willing to be soul-fucked by Spirit.

~Candice Holdorf

Chronicle: Burning Man Now “Mainstream”

Chronicle: Burning Man Now “Mainstream”.

oath breakers and spirit singers

Illuminating.

Summer Thunder

If you look around the Pagan internet you will find more people calling themselves Warlocks nowadays, a word which has a definite ring to it. This is in sharp contrast to 30 years ago, when (as is still quite commonly stated) you would be told in no uncertain terms that “Warlock” was a term of insult meaning “oath breaker”, and that a male Witch was still a Witch. Pretty much the only people who were publicly identifying with the term were Satanists, and well, you know how Pagans are about Satanism (usually in some form of denial).

Nowadays there are quite a lot more people picking up the term and identifying with it, eg the Feri initiate Storm Faerywolf, and he’s not alone.

The Online Etymology Dictionary says the following of the word:

“Old English wærloga ‘traitor, liar, enemy,’ from wær ‘faith, a compact’ (cf. Old High German wara ‘truth,’…

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“E” is for Entheogen: A Key to Unlock the Door

Emergence

I understand that this topic may be somewhat provocative. There are many schools of thought about spirituality and the use of psychoactive substances. This post isn’t here to convert you or even to shift your thinking; I’m just writing what I know. The only thing I will say is that if you are called to explore this path, do so with equal amounts of curiosity and caution. Folks, this kind of work is not for beginners and will eventually force you to face deep aspects of your Self. Parts that will resist scrutiny. If this work calls to you, explore your community to find an experienced guide for your journey. It will be worth the effort.

I can remember very clearly the first time I experienced trance with the help of a plant ally. While still living in Austin, I worked with a beautiful spirit named Liz. She is an artist and Healer of incredible grace. We were able to talk about many aspects of spirituality in an open, honest way. When she felt the time was right, she introduced me to a man that she had been working with for some time, a bodyworker who healed with the help of the plant spirit of ganja, or marijuana.  I received the most intense massage session ever that day. Now, I had smoked pot before, but always in a very recreational way. The work began that day opened me to a completely new experience, one that I credit as the foundation for my spiritual Journey. A spiritual 2 x 4, if you will.

My session opened with a short check-in and space for questions. Instead of asking if I had any particular issues or problems to work on, I was encouraged to simply let go and allow the plant to do its work. One of my Brother Initiates of the Unnamed Path shared a story about using an entheogen to ask for answers about a life issue he was having. While the experience was a success, he reported that the journey continued long after he had his answer, with much unpleasantness. Personally, I do not feel that searching for specific information is suited for working with an entheogenic plant spirit guide. Rather, I encourage the journeyer to simply open to the wisdom of the plant teacher. It basically has you until IT is ready to let you go.

For much of the massage, I remember seeing a vast, forested valley, with sunlight streaming down on me through the clouds. I believe this vision expanded my capacity to Listen and to communicate with other allies, including animals, plants and spirits. However, it would be many years, and a move from Texas to California, before I understood what that meant.

During some of my earliest shamanic studies, I became acquainted with two Healers, a couple. I first met them when they were still teaching drum-making workshops. Yes, I would complete work on a healing tool that I still use, a 15-inch hide drum. Little did I know that the two instructors also introduced others to working with entheogenic helpers. About five years after that initial meeting, I would be reintroduced to my Teachers in a very different context.

A long-time friend of mine asked me if I would be interested in working with psychoactives in a ritual way. I recalled my Austin experience and agreed immediately. He was assisting two shamans who used plant medicines for deeply transformative work, and I was highly intrigued. My friend was also very involved in spiritual work for gay men, and had arranged for the teachers to meet with a circle of sacred brothers. I later leaned that the Teachers worked with varied groups all over the world, but sitting in meditation with other Men Who Love Men holds particular fascination for me. Cue Too Wong Foo:

Sometimes, it just takes a Fairy.

Ultimately, the experience, and the subsequent work I completed, changed the foundational ideas I hold about the nature of the Universe. In my visions, I see geometric patterns of light, hear crystalline sounds that echo the Creation, and experience an overall sense of floating in a singularity/white hole, energy moving in and out my center. I saw this video recently and was reminded of the visuals. You’re next thought may sound something like, “But aren’t those just hallucinations?” Perhaps. However, the expanded awareness and creativity that have manifested in my own life tell a different story. I feel that I have come to understand what the Ancients have always known: plant spirit allies can help unlock doors inside ourselves. What you are shown on the other side is between you and Spirit, but I know now that the plant allies WANT to help us open our eyes and truly see the connections that exist between all things. They call for us to return to our place in the global circle of life instead of destroying everything in our path. As they encourage, the plant helpers also show us “tough love,” forcing us to confront the deeply held secrets that fester in the dark. It’s a difficult road to walk but the benefits are many. For more information about psychoactive substances visit erowid.org. You decide.

Blessings

“B” is for Book: How fiction has influenced my Spiritual Path

My Inner Library

As I look back over the course of events that have shaped my Path, I must pay tribute to certain authors for their visions of what magic looks like. Even though these views may be “imaginary,” they point directly to a rich source of inspiration for my magical life: imagination.

Imagination

• the ability to imagine things that are not real
• the ability to form a picture in your mind of something that you have not seen or experienced
• the ability to think of new things
• something that only exists or happens in your mind

~Merriam-Webster

If you are like me, you probably have a number of books, comics and movies that bring sparks of creativity to your magical practice(s). Of course, while I certainly wish my library looked like the above, it’s really this:

My “Real” Library

Besides cartoons, one of my earliest recollections of a magical story involved Half Magic by Edward Eager. The story tells of the adventures of four siblings who find a magical coin that grants wishes, but generally only half a wish. For example, a wish to visit a desert island becomes a thirsty trek into the desert. As you can guess, such a wishing technique causes all sorts of trouble for our intrepid heroes, but it taught me a valuable lesson early on: be careful what you wish for; it might come true, but not in the way you expect. SPOILER: yes, the children do eventually discover they can receive the full wish by wishing twice as hard.

While I did love that novel, it wasn’t until I began reading Susan Cooper’s The Dark is Rising in grade school that I saw how fiction was coloring my thoughts about the Universe and my place in it. I remember that my sixth-grade teacher was using the series as part of her thesis for her Master’s work. Back then, I didn’t exactly know what a thesis was, but it was clear that she had connected to some part of the work, some aspect which made a huge impression. Over the course of the fall and spring, the class took turns reading that particular novel, which is part of a larger series. I could literally see myself as Will Stanton, an average boy who discovers a most extraordinary part of himself, one that was previously hidden. He is transformed by the magical events surrounding him, encouraged by his teacher and mentor, Merriman Lyon, the Merlin of old. While I have always had a sense of being different, I had been given a vision of my future self in the pages of a book, and it was at this juncture that my spiritual quest truly began.

Comics, or as we know them now, graphic novels, also played a major role in shaping my personal cosmology. Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman, and a spin-off title, Lucifer, delve deep into the collective unconscious, bringing together characters, beings and even Deities from many cultures to share incredible adventures. He opens up a world in which vast concepts like Death and Desire are personified using current cultural references, and the mind of God can be cracked open by a diabolical, self-deified rogue. My world kept getting stranger, and I was the better for it.

There was even a gay role model in my favorite genre: Herald-Mage Vanyel Ashkevron from the Valdemar series by Mercedes Lackey. She explored prejudice towards the expression of love between two men, concepts with which I was already grappling, with compassion and hope. The series spans lifetimes and includes Ancestor work, which gave me the courage to ease into this as my studies of shamanism commenced. I also felt as though my own personal story was being told.

And while I have harbored a life-long fascination with the Elements (Avatar: The Last Airbender, anyone?), Roger Zelazny conjured forth the deep interplay between Dark and Light, Order and Chaos via his Amber novels. I talk about this exchange in my last post. In the reconciliation of duality, that dance between Yin and Yang, life and magic emerge. Zelazny’s portrayal of reality as frequencies of the waves emerging from Amber and the Courts of Chaos was nothing short of mind-blowing for me. When I finally experienced this in medicine trance, I was prepared for how it would feel.

Yes, I am eternally grateful for the many authors who taught me the occult arts and sciences over the years: Starhawk, Yronwode, Coyle, Penczak. However, I am truly indebted to those who’s worked fired my imagination from my earliest years. Thank you to my Brother Initiate, Chase, for sharing a love of fiction with me. You brought back many treasures for me during our chat today.

Who’s work inspired or continues to inspire you?

What visions were brought to vivid life in your mind’s eye?

Blessings