: Gebo (G: Gift.) Gifts, both in the sense of sacrifice and of generosity, indicating balance. All matters in relation to exchanges, including contracts, personal relationships and partnerships.Flame = "fire, warmth, light, secure." Thus is the light god. No flame = "cold, blind, afraid." Thus is the dark bad.
This fire was a god; a being that still speaks to the soul when gazed upon intently. There in the flame dance, the visions can be seen of a million nights sitting in the warmth of its glow. Not only is the fire a god, but it is also a gift from god, for the same god that brought the rain also cracks open the dark sky in a roaring with thunder and strikes the very ground with this terrifying gift of Fire.
(continued from chapter #1)
Now seeing the clear image of his error the young man prepares himself for the hunt. No longer the boy, he gathers with the older, more experienced males seated off to the side as they watch the females assemble in front of the fire hearth to dance the hunters blessing.
Standing behind the fire, the old shaman is clad in the skins of the gray wolf and on his head he wears the heavy antlers of an elk. He has already prepared himself for his task of selecting the god's choices of who will make up the hunting party and bestowing the god's blessing on each hunter. His movements, though not quite a dance, have a smooth, measured, rhythmic sway to them as he murmers that assures the tribe that he is in communion with their god. He tosses some powder into the fire and immediately flame and sparks shoot high into the sky.
As the last of the sparks dies off the females begin to sway and shuffle their feet. Slowly at first then faster and faster they move with greater intensity and the tension builds. Squatting and shaking, they gyrate their heads in unison, first in one direction then the other, bringing their hands together at their shoulders they mimic the throwing of spears. The gyration of head and body set the women into a self indused trance. The males stand and join in the movement, dancing and yelping in imitation of the wild game they will seek; one foot stomps the ground then the other in a straddle-like stance mimicing their prey.
Taking the vial of sacred elixir with him, the shaman dances among the males and gives a sip to those who seem to be the most focused on the hunt. These, he reasons, are those selected by the god. The chosen male then joins the females dancing in front of the fire. The dancers' rhythmic movements increase as they become caught up in the dance, those chosen are now the anointed as the sacred elixir takes hold and the fire leaps to life in their minds eye, with images both divine and terrifying, their sexuality rises up in them. Each chosen male selects a female and the couple vanishes into the shelter of the caves and the night.
The young man wakens early the next day. Sated, happy and proud he joins the the other chosen males at the hearth as they ready themselves for the hunt. With him, he carries strung to his waist, the bone his mother had thrown at him in what seems like another time.
Fire; the illuminator, the comforter, the hearth spirit, the home maker, he muses as he breaks his fast. It is here around this hearth fire that our earliest selves first sat gazing into the magical light. Here we witness the changing of elements as the wood is turned to smoke and ash. The smoke is a spirit that leaves the body of the wood as the flame consumes its sacrificial log, just like the heat that rises from the flame. It is this fire spirit that we gather around, that comforts us in the dark. It is here in this communion that we are bound together, its warmth has bound us all into family and clan.
Edited and co-authored
in collaberation with The Gestalt Project.
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