(This is for you, A.L.)
Apparently, among many indigenous cultures - including native American tribes - survival from a venomous snakebite can be worn like a brightly adorned headdress, indicating one's elevation upon a spiritual, as is the case for the Priestess, or social, much like a chief wears, level. I'm still wading through the terrain of my recent rebirth, thus I'd be in a rush to report upon anything other than what I've been learning about INITIATION.
For millennium, indigenous peoples honored the important markers of our human journey through this space time warp with rites of passage. These transcendental experiences were vital to our individual growth because they served to remind us of one important thing - we are more than the sum of these bodies and minds. While in a cultural studies class at Sonoma State University in the early 90's, I watched a mid-twentieth century film about a young tribesman's initiation into warriorhood. He was hung by his pectoral muscles from metal hooks and was left suspended off of the ground for painful hours. It sounds downright masochistic, doesn't it? And, yet, what this test ultimately had this man confronting was his fear of pain.
People keep inquiring as to whether or not the strike from the Cascabel caused me any pain. Pain is a funny thing - I teach about it quite often as I lead my "Primal Fluidity" Dance Classes. "Note the difference between discomfort and pain," I advise, as I, for example, breathe deeply into the discomfort of a 300 pound man sinking his weight into my chest. Yes, I certainly felt a stabbing in my lower leg of which I had never felt before. Then, when I noticed the snake, my adrenaline shot through the roof and the only feeling pumping through my bodymind was an absolute desire for survival and, thus, anti-venom. Once I reached help, I quickly grabbed hold of my own Self. "I am a Tai Chi Master," I loudly pronounced as I dropped deeply into my breath and the present moment.
The swelling of my leg, into abnormal proportions, and then the return of a normal blood flow through my highly contracted hip and calf muscles, made for extreme discomfort, yes. But, pain? No, pain always simply felt like a choice. Instead, I chose to bee present and exactly where I was - at the hospital, with poison in my blood and puncture wounds in my leg. Although I had books to read, paper to write on and a television to watch, I did "nothing." I simply was where I was - and, I wasn't bored, either. In one moment, I thought, "Uh-oh. Can I "succeed" at doing anything with this lack of drive to change my circumstances?" Trust then reminded me that I can allow the Universe to support me - in all ways.
What I've learned is that even the painful bites and brutal strikes of life aren't anything to fear - especially when who I am is not this container and it's surely not this identity. Who I am is so much bigger then what a singular revolution around one lifetime can succinctly give voice to. Unfortunately, we've been raised within a society that conditions us to believe otherwise. We're conditioned to believe that these BodyMinds are our Selves. As Americans today, we consider parties, weddings and funerals to now serve as fundamental rites of passage. Which is truly sad, because our loss of INITIATION - of remembering that there is nothing to fear but fear itself - is causing us great distress and dis-ease. It is our avoidance of short-term pain that ensures the longevity of our long-term suffering.
