Vernal Equinox Bridge Healing Ceremony

FIRE IN THE VALLEY

The first Bridge of Fire burned this weekend in Nicasio thanks Jeff and Laura Kimpton. The fact that Fire in the Valley was postponed several times was part of the reason we were able to get it done. It took us that long to figure out how to get General Vallejo over there. The General Vallejo chain saw carving  stood in front of a car dealership in Vallejo for years, until dry rot and termites did what they do to unprotected wood. He was carved by chain saw artist Miles Tucker. In the end, he was rotten to the core and I am sure the all the indigenous tribes in the area had a similar sentiment about the real life counterpart, General Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo when he was lord and master over his vast land grants back in the mid to late 1800’s.

This weekend he burned to the ground, but he did not go down easy and stood on one leg for at least an hour as if to say “it’s only a flesh wound,” but the fire was to have the last word. He fell face down directly toward Bruce Hurst, the guy who brought the General over on his truck earlier in the day. It was a fitting gesture I thought. And it was a fitting and honorable end to the General. He made a beautiful fire. Everyone who came was happy to see him glow like a huge charcoal in the night as he was consumed from the inside out

The Bridge of Fire also burned and was a fine start to what will be a bigger more elegant version on the Playa this year and probably continuing until…..well, I’m done. This small bridge I burned was going to be the entrance to Fog City which will be the camp where me and some bridge angels will hang out this year. But when I got the chance to burn it. What else could I do. I’m a burner. I burn things. I’m gonna be burned when I’m gone.

It was a great night with all kinds of other fires and all the crazy fire machines. There were a lot of good people and good food and fun was had by all. My appreciation goes to Jeff and Laura, davex, and Bruce Hurst for giving the General a ride in addition to his generous donation of firewood that helped both fires burn hotter, and let’s not forget Bonefire Bob who torched it.  I am looking forward to next year. I’m looking for something to burn.

There are more pics on this blog under the Burning Memories tab. Check them out.

peace, moonfire

At this moment I have so many things to do. The lines I have to follow to make the ends meet where they become circles are endless. Lots of times I have to let them go and watch them fly off into space  willy nilly out of my control or just watch them get locked into squares or triangles or some geometric shape that sits on a shelf waiting to be reopened.

So, I just put one foot in front of the other sometimes running so fast that the moments pass like the landscape out the window of a speeding train. But even in that moment the view can be incredible. That indian in me sits there watching the world go by and even though it’s blurred in my consciousness, it is still poetry. I know the moments are good and I try to practise the quiet sitting. Certainly in the last year, I have seen things of beauty and felt energy that I used to miss because of the speed I was traveling. These things have always been there and my eyes have always seen them, but my heart had not been ripped open and my spirit had never travelled so close to the edge of Creation.

Now the edge is my home. It is where things happen. I could jump or I could fly into the sky. I could sit and let my feet dangle like a child on a playground. But what I am doing there now is listening to the wind howl with ideas that seem impossible to that middle of the path guy I used to be. I stand against it arms outstretched with a rebellious, daring smile, but never worried about being blown over because the wind is now my friend. And the light…the light at the edge is so bright. It’s not this tiny little glow at the end of a tunnel. It’s the blinding white light of creation that energizes every cell of my body. It heals me. It feeds me. It gives a path forward over this Bridge of Fire.

I remember the day one week after Donovan made his leap of faith. I went to the bridge to the spot where a passerby in a car saw him go over the rail. That was the day that I knew my life was altered forever. Even though I was with Kandy, I was alone in many ways. I stood there feeling his presence coupled with the knowledge and the recurring vision of what he had done. In my being, I felt the bridge begin to spin like a carousel out of control and as I was overcome with the reality of my grief, my body felt hot and the bridge began to burn in my mind. That was the moment that the Bridge of Fire was born. It was also the moment of my rebirth.

For weeks, I was in this place and so close to the edge, I could touch it. I could feel it drawing me closer, almost beckoning me to step past the crumbling edge. I saw so many things there and had so many intense experiences. My behavior while I was there frightened some people in my life, but I was never in danger. I was being given the blessing of seeing the thread of life beyond this world, but I had to retreat. I knew I couldn’t stay there long. My entire self  had been disrupted. I was too vulnerable. I saw clearly the validity of life on both sides and on all the planes of existence, and I understood that whatever choice I made would be OK. So, because it was not a time in my life to make any important decisions, I walked away from the edge.

So, now it is one year later and I am venturing back toward the edge regularly. I can do cartwheels there now . I have no fear. It is the place where I have always found strength and magic tools to keep me alive in everyway. When I was youger, I used to go there accidentally. Now I realize Iwill eventually live there and take a vacation to the middle mostly for the benefit of other people. I have found my place. My son by his sacrifice, has given me a new life. I would be a fool not to accept it. I certainly don’t know where this path will take me, but I have never felt so certain about the direction of my life.

So, the Bridge of Fire has grown out of this. It is barely a seedling, but so many people want it to grow, and in the last few weeks I have realized that I am not on this bridge alone. There are so many circles of people who have offered help, support, and love. We are all watching our own lives spin around and sometimes there’s no clear path out of the pain or the confusion. The answers are not always clear, but the moment you are living right now is real and as my brother told me last week when I was crying while I was talking to him on the phone, “Feel it. Feel all of it. It is life.” So, along with the tears, I am also feeling the laugh out loud joy of my journey to create the Bridge of Fire. It is not just a Burning Man project, because it will take a community to manifest it on the playa and beyond.

This is not my project. I do not own it. I hope everyone will put a nail in it. I hope everyone will bring an something to offer to the fire. I hope everyone will accept a part of as their own and when it burns watch the fire transform it into dreams and visions. It will go on past this year with plans to bring it back to my community and I hope to yours. I don’t expect everyone  to stay with me on the edge, but I look forward to our journey together as we breathe life into this thing.

Peace and Love,

moonfire

At an undisclosed location,, I will set fire to the first Bridge of Fire. It is a structure I built to take to Decompression this year to introduce the Bridge  project to the Burning Man community. I was goig to use it for the entrance to our camp (Fog City) at Burning Man this year, but I was offered the chance to burn it, and…..,well, I’m a burner. Easy decision. Where’s the torch. Other people will there burning other stuff, and what’s more fun than burners playing with fire. I am really looking forward to this weekend. I’m sure it will lift me out of this funk I am in and inspire me to build the Bridge of Fire. I will post pictures around the usual places next week, and the check the blog for a report back from the event.

peace and love, moonfire

Update

Fire in the Valley was called off because the rain, but we love the rain anyway. We will all try again next weekend. It’s up to the gods of fire and water.  A day or so later, I will be on my way to Vian, Oklahoma to where I will place my Son’s ashes an his Grandfathers grave. I am hoping to be accompanied by Kandy, my blood brother, David and my brother in the medicine ways, Harold. This is also in the gods.

One year ago on this day, the most painful fire that I have ever witnessed consumed my son’s body. It took place at a beautiful cemetary in San Rafael at the base of Mt Tamalpias. A small group of Donovan’s family and friends made there way to a place overlooking the small valley and the building where the furnace was being prepared. We held a Native American Ceremony. A very powerful young man who had known Donovan came to offer his blessings and prayers. We had gathered many small items that we knew Donovan loved to offer to the fire. We brought his favorite foods and some cigarettes. After the ceremony Kandy and I cut off some of our hair and laid in the prayer bundle.

Then, along with Jeremy and two of Donovan’s best friend’s, we made our way down to a place that was not much more than a garage storage bulding that also housed the furnace. His body was there in a cardboard box. He was dressed in a suit that he wore in Washington DC when he did a year long internship for Senator Tom Daschle. It sounds so trite, but he looked so peaceful. He was a handsome young man. I remember when the coroner called me on the day he jumped, he commented on how he couldn’t understand why such a beautiful young man had to go like this. Anyway, Jeremy performed a special blessing over the body and gave Donovan’s spirit permission to move on without regret.  Each of us in turn, said our personal goodbyes. I placed a long lock of his hair that he cut off and given to me before he had gone off to Washington. When he gave it to me, I did not know why or what to do with it, so I just put in my medicine box. When I asked Jeremy about it, he told that it needed to go with him into the fire. I looked at his face, told him I loved him and wrapped from the back of his head to his chest. He looked so beautiful.

The time had come. There was not going to be a miracle. His body was no longer where his spirit lived. There were last looks and shared glances between all of us. At some point, I had asked John,  the funeral director if he would allow me to put the box in the fire, and he said it would be OK. We wheeled it over to the furnace, raised it up and they opened the door. When open, it had the appearance of a an altar and looked like a kiln inside. I took a couple of deep breaths, and slowly pushed him into the fire. I looked at John and nodded. He closed the door and locked it down. There was a red switch. He pushed it. I could hear the fire and that was it. Ashes to ashes.

Even now sometimes I question the reality of this thing I am going through, but all I have to do is remember this act. This thing I did to close the door on his physical existence on this planet. It was a good thing for me to do. I will always remember his face on that day. At peace and telling me that he was flying free with all the ancestors who had gone before.

I am now making plans to take his ashes to Oklahoma which is ancestral home. This was his request. Then his physical journey will be complete as I place his remains at the place where my Grandfather, Walker Bark, is buried. As the entire year has been, this will be a difficult time. I hope to travel there with my brother to find my Father, and meet with a one of Donovan’s uncles who will perform the ceremony according to the medicine ways. In this way, his ashes will return to the earth in a place where many of his ancestors have gone before him. He will be home and the circle complete.

I was asked this morning if I was feeling sad about not getting a grant from Burning Man, and I had to laugh inside because after what I have been through in the last year, this is a minor disappointment and falls into the category of the trivial. Besides, I say we don’t need no stinking badges. I’ve been doing this on my own for years. I’ve never gotten any money from Burning Man, and although my project has been small, it got done.

I still intend to build the Bridge of Fire. It will just be a lot harder to do now, and I certainly feel challenged to do it. This forces me to become more vocal, more persistent, and probably more of a pain in ass.

So, we all know the bottom line to this thing is money. I initially joked that all I needed to do was get $100 from a thousand people, because I was told that last years Basura Sagrada cost over that amount to do. That did and still seemed incredibly over the top, but it’s amazing how costs add up. I asked Burning Man for $20,000 and that was a minimal budget for materials, transportation, and logistics. So, now I have $0.00 and still feel like this can be done. Am I crazy? That’s a different subject.

So, how? First on the list of priorities is people. You all know the saying about the fact anything  is possible if a small group of comitted people are intent on doing it. Well, that’s all you with all your skills and all your networks of support. I would like to think that a lean Bridge of Fire Machine could pull this off. There’s no reason that this should cost some incredible amount of money and whatever it costs, some of the money should not be burned, but used to benefit the community. I still think that small donations from a whole lot of people is the answer, but I am open to any ideas for raising money. Anybody got experience in this area?

I will continue to blog a post needs both human and material in the days to come. I will put up pictures, drawings, tentative budget, description of my vision, and the philosophical intent. The web page will be up by mid March and I hope to begin construction by then of March.

I know of meetings happening today in which David Best will finalize his decision about his plans for Burning Man this year. This will have an effect on the Bridge of Fire, and I will post an update as soon as I know anything.

I know for most of you, this project does not carry the depth of meaning as it does for me and Lady Lavender, and I appreciate how people have already responded. I am asking you to pour yourselves into it. Create  you own meaning and let’s create a collage that reflects the personal life experiences of all of us. 

Help me create this. Help me with this journey to the other side.

Peace and Love, moonfire

I was thinking about friends today. In the last couple of years, I’ve lost a few. Death and life changes have separated me from them. We all know how important friends are, but when they’re gone, you really understand what someone meant to you. People say you are lucky to have a few good friends. If that’s true, then I have been blessed. In the last year my life would have been hell with a capital “H” without the friendship and support of more people than I can count.

How can I have this many friends if the general consensus is that your lucky to have a few.  Certainly people have been moved to help me because of the situation I am in, but that doesn’t explain my good fortune entirely. And the other thing is that I’ve got a lot of new friends who seem as close to me as some of my very old friends. I’ve heard also that nothing can replace having history with a person….that long term or lifetime friendship. This doesn’t explain the complete and utter kinship I have for some of my new friends. You know….when you meet someone and feel like you’ve known them all your life.

Whatever, I’ve got a lot of friends and good ones, with good hearts and an open line when I really need it. I’m as broke as I’ve ever been in my entire life and I’m not just talking about money and I know it’s so hippie, peace, love of me to say this, but damnit, I love all of you….my old and new friends….all the people who have picked me up when I was down this year. You have helped to live and love another day. Thank you

moonfire

I’m driving to work and that song comes on the radio and the rain is pounding against the windshield faster than it can be wiped away. Then there’s the pain in my brain and I feel myself sinking down into the darkness and my eyes open up like the clouds in the winter sky. The tears are like rivers that flow to a sea of grief….to the sea that swallowed Donovan. I see it again. It was only four seconds and I try to make a deal with god, but I’m not allowed to sit in on that game, and I remember pushing his lifeless body into the fire. I say goodbye again. Everytime someone says he is better off now, I want to scream…..and my eyes keep on raining. I shouldn’t be driving. How can I go to work? Is it always going to be this way. I need a friend today….someone to say it is all going to be OK and make me believe it. I drive here and there, but no one is home. So, I drive to a place I know and walk in the rain until I am soaked to the bone. I reach for my phone, but I know words will only make it rain harder. I know you are all out there, but I will still be alone after I hang up. I stand in the cold facing the heavens, trying to find the truth. I am not moonfire today. I am not even Dana. I am a broken little boy who has lost his way in the dark.

Then I realize how sick I have been and how I don’t want to go through that again. I realize that I have things to do and I have people depending on me. Even though I feel like I want to die sometimes, I need to live. I remember what a good friend said. I can’t figure out if the the rain is my tears or if my tears are the rain, and I realize it’s all the same, and that it is beautiful because spring is coming. My tears will help the flowers grow. My tears will wash my spirit and feed my soul. My tears will build the Bridge of Fire. Maybe then I will be able to let him go

Everything about the day was appropriate. It was cold and rainy. I had a virus from hell, so I felt worse than shit. We are broke, so we couldn’t go away and could barely afford to even leave town, but we drove over to the coast….over to Bodega Bay to find a place in a picture that showed the numbers on a marker on highway 1. This is an example of the things a person does after a son dies. You see, this was a place that we knew Donovan had been a week before he died just one year earlier. I had been dyslexic with the numbers, so it took us a while to match the picture with the reality. We also had some other pictures, but were only able to locate two of the places.

Then we got out and stood there wondering and asking the same old questions. At one point, I stood and looked over the edge of one of the shear, rocky cliffs and felt the wind push me back. I searched the raging high tide below for something….anything, but with no real expectations. I tried to see through his eyes. Is this where he got some kind of spiritual permission to go to the sea…..back to the womb of Creation? I cried and I screamed and I asked once again for the millionth time, “why?” There were no answers and no clues. I was sick. My chest was burning, my eyes hurt, and my head was exploding.

We drove up the coast until we got to the Russian River and then back tracked after deciding to get a drink somewhere. On the way back we stopped again at Coleman Valley Rd which was where one of the pictures had been taken. It was taken from a car and so we assumed that him and his friend had driven up this road and back down or maybe just turned around at this intersection. I walked out past the sign that said, “stay back” and looked over the edge again and looked out to the never ending sea. The sun was falling into the water rapidly, but there was no grand and beautiful opening in the clouds. So, it was just grey, cloudy darkness extinguishing this unhappy anniversary. I remembered that I had come to do a ceremony however small and rushed to get my medicine box and began to rifle through it haphazardly looking for the things I needed. Then, we walked down to small rock outcropping that was just barely a windbreak, and tried to light the fire…..and tried, and tried, and tried. Finally, Kandy retreated to the car to get a charcoal lit. While she was gone I arranged the burrito, the chocolate, and the cigarettes we had brought and cried some more. It was bitter cold by now and my chest was on fire. Kandy came back with the burning charcoal and I laid it on the small bits of paper and unlit matches. The fire began to burn after minor coaxing and we stood there both crying and I remember screaming one more time. I blew my whistle to the four directions while Kandy spoke prayers out loud. We put sage and cedar on the fire and the wind circled the rocks and disappeared in all directions. It was starting rain again by now, so that was it. One year to the day, and that was it. I thought to myself, “this was not good enough.”

I drug my exhausted body back to the car. My spirit was missing in action. We made our way back down the coast to The Tides, pulled in and found the bar. There was a basketball game on and on other guy who was obviously a local a couple of seats away from us. The world had not noticed a thing and was still moving in a forward direction. We sipped our drinks and I cried a little more. The drink warmed me and helped my headache, but it did not do anything for the aching in my heart.

Coming home, while Kandy drove, I made a few phone calls and found out that the father of a good friend had died earlier in the week. Kandy and I talked and we revisited some of the same words and thoughts that we had spoken so many times in the last year, but all I kept thinking was that it wasn’t enough and I don’t know when it will be enough.

One night camp out Saturday 20th at Bicentennial Campgroud with room for six hardy souls. Moonfire and Lady Lavender will be there.
The prayer fire will be lit at 4AM and people are invited to come as early as possible. The ceremony will begin at about 10AM and last until it is done. Come and go as you please. Bring warm clothes, a blanket, some food to share, any sacred object you may possess, Something to offer to the fire, drums, and whatever seems right.
Contact me if you plan to come.

Sol-stice = sun-stationary,
because the sun rises and sets in the same spot for a few days.
This is the longest night and shortest day of the year,
here in the northern hemisphere.
(The southern hemisphere is celebrating Summer Solstice at the same moment.)
From this day on, the days will get longer.

This phenomenon is a direct result
of the Earth-Sun relationship.
At winter solstice, Sun is at its lowest point:
the longest night, the most profound descent into the dark,
and a subsequent turning of the cycle,
a return to the Light.

Thus a moment of REBIRTH,
return and renewal of the life force are signaled.
Light begins to grow once again.

This is why all cultures on this planet, since long ago,
have celebrated this moment in one way or another.
To safeguard & tend to the sacred fire of Life,
to keep hope alive,
to acknowledge the ever-renewing power of Nature
& and all living things,
to assure the Return of our day star, the Sun.

peace and love, moonfire

Time and Place

Date:	Sunday, December 21, 2008
Time:	10:00am – 1:00pm
Location:	Battery Wallace Picnic area/ Marin Headlands
Street:	Conzelman Road to Field Road at the end
City/Town:	Sausalito, CA
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Contact Info

Phone:	7072803926
Email:	moonfire@sonic.net