"The Mystery Box "

By Rainbow Moon Raven   

One day a friend of mine calls me on the phone. She had purchased a huge plastic box of arrowheads and other pieces of broken artifacts from a local geologist. Much to her dismay, and the dismay of her husband Ray, they found bones and remains of Native Americans in the box. So of course, me being the local swamp witch, or stone witch they called me. I lived in a stone cottage and used the herbs and stones, so I get the phone call for help.

     So I called Sha'la' my teacher and got her advice. Then went to Sandy's house to bury the bones. With me I took>>>three little angels off the Christmas tree, a huge slab of moss I had gathered the week before, but felt drawn to use it now, a few stones, some sage and two hawk feathers, from my first hawk I was gifted.

     I get to Sandy's and she has big shovels and huge picks and a tractor ready to go. Not to mention her gun strapped on, (as if that is going to help you with Indian Spirits anyhow? *giggling*)

     We go through the box, piece by piece and take out anything that feels negative in vibration, or some stones and things just wanted to go. So they too were put into one pile. While doing this I notice my finger joints, three of them are hurting really bad.

     I rub my fingers, and later notice Sandy rub hers as if we both are feeling something but we do not know what. Most of the bones were small ones, nothing really major. You could tell they had come from a burial ground. All the arrowheads were broke in two as that is how they bury them in Cherokee land .  So we each as well took a few stones that felt like they wanted to go with each of us personally. There was one stone in particular that drew my eye. It looked to be half of a petrified nutshell, all worn and smooth. I knew it was the best gift in this box so I looked at it fondly, then proceeded to hide it from myself with other stones so I wood not want to take that one home with me.

     Sandy, of course, Old Miss Rambo Fairy Eagle Eye, noticed me fondly looking at this stone. Then watched with smugness, I am sure as she saw me try to hide it from myself. What a hoot she is! Then we were all done going through things seeing what needed to be buried. We sat back a minute, tears in our eyes for all the Natives have had to endure. For the sadness that these people went through when they were hunted by white man. When the tears stopped Sandy reaches in the huge pile of stones and pulls out the nutshell, and hands it to me. She says "This is yours for putting these bones to rest." The nutshell began to speak to me almost instantly then. I knew just what to do with the bones and we knew where on her land to take them. The back left hand corner of her 80 or so acres.

     We took the bones, "My fingers are hurting I am thinking", as I put the bones in a box with the angels and we put in herbs and flowers and nice things. Smudging everything and our selves. Offering tobacco. We take the little box and load it on the tractor. Sandy insists she needs all her arsenal, I tell her, "Ok, but NO GUN! "

     She says, "Oh Ray will have a fit if I go on the land and not take my gun, besides, what if we SEE A SNAKE?" I laugh and freak at the same time. "Sandy I say, if we see a SNAKE it is one of my power animals and it has come to help us and I PROMISE I will protect you, but you can not shoot one of my power animals in ceremony!"  She thinks on this. Decides she loves and trusts me enough to still take her gun with her! *hahhahahhaha*

     Halfway there she lost the gun mysteriously. It was not to be found till the next day. *hahahaha (hugs the fairies thank you and gives them some tobacco)

     I put a hawk feather in her hair, and one in mine. When we get as far as the tractor will make it we unload. Sandy struggling with huge rakes and shovels, and Goddess knows what else, and me with my medicine bag and a little box of bones and stones.

     Suddenly a Hawk appears. He sits in the tree right above us and calls out to us. A greeting of "Hello." Sandy's eyes grow big. I can see her reaching instinctively for that silly gun of hers, but *wink* the fairy's by now have hid it.* She then looks, wide eyed, at me like saying.

"IT IS A HAWK?"

      "Yes," I tell her, "He is a Spirit Hawk and has come to show you where on your land you need  to put the bones." The Hawk, on that note, swoops down and touches the ground between two tall pine trees. Then he flies a short way off and sits in a tree to guard us during the ceremony.

     We take the stuff to the area. A boom box with Native singing and drumming is one thing I am grateful Sandy brought. I turn it on. Get out the smudge and prepare us a circle around the trees so we may do our work. The Hawk watches silently.

     When the circle is made and our prayers said. I call the spirits in respectfully. We are ready to dig the earth. Little tiny Sandy takes out this huge shovel and jumps on it. It goes nowhere! "Oh no!" she cries. "We are going to have to hack threw trees roots and do this and that", and she begins to bring out her arsenal of things.

     Laughing as I watch her. "Sandy?" I said. "Yes?" she says. "Can I suggest an easier way?" Since she is exhausted trying to get the arsenal to open the earth she stands back a minute. I take tobacco and knock three times on the earth. I give the tobacco to the earth then ask if I may bury some bones and stones here in this spot, and if the earth is OK with this, will she help me by opening up so the bones may go into the ground?

     I began gently with my hands to  scoop the earth out of a hole. The dirt came out as if it was soft sand. In less than five minutes I had a one foot by two foot hole. Sandy, her mouth opened a bit, watching in amazement. Then we could hear something happening all around us. The Spirits were coming in from every direction. The leaves were rustling as if there was really people arriving at our circle. The Hawk called out loudly to announce their arrival.

     All around us were Native Spirits. We could see them and hear them chanting. The hair on our necks and arms stood out.

               We placed the bones in the ground. 

                 "Man my fingers were hurting."

 Then I got cold chills.

"Sandy? I asked. "Do you think these are OUR bones we are burying from another lifetime?"

     When I said that I knew myself I was right. We were putting our OWN bones back into the ground. They were taken away with out permission.

The stone I so fondly remembered?

Turned out to be my Grandfathers stone, from another lifetime, yet touching this lifetime.

     There is much more to this story as this barely scratches the surface of the magic that day, and of the blending of realms. When we went to leave the Indian Spirits opened up and let us out. Then closed in again on the bones. So they may never be disturbed again.

And, my fingers are no longer cold nor do they hurt.

     Seven years later, White man came to Sandy's land. They wanted to take part of her trees to make something there. As the workmen came to take the trees, Sandy told them there was an Indian Burial Ground back there. And that the bones had been raised once and put back in the ground and that she was not responsible for what happened to the workers.

They all turned pale and left her land alone.

So the bones and the stones and the trees remain untouched for now, from White Man. 

In peace they rest once again.

"The Spiral Dance"

By Rainbow Moon Raven

The day my spiritual journey began, I had no fore warning my life was about to change forever. Nothing nudged me or warned me. I had, at that time, no understanding just how BIG it all would become. Nor did I know that, I, myself, would never be the same again.

It was a winter day. Much like any other winter day in the south of Georgia. The sun shining and rather cool. My everyday life had piled itself up so high I could not see my way out of it. I was mad, disgusted, and really just wanted to give it up all together. But, I had read, in a book. How stones could help us, heal us if we would but give them a chance. So, thinking "what the hell it is worth a shot, I have nothing to lose"

I took a pale lavender amethyst, and put all my woes into it. I cried into it. Let all the pressures go into it. Then with friends I went to a mountain stream. I remember the moon was full that night and we gazed upon the glory of it. The stream was singing, never ending songs of the nighttime. No creature's sounds disturbed the peaceful scenery.

We each did our own private ceremony. For mine, I prayed into the stone and thanked it for helping me. I asked of it, that if there was something BIGGER than me. Something like the "God" they talked of in church, and if that something could hear my prayers, then please give me a sign. So that I may know the truth.

I took the pale amethyst and buried it under a tree. Was a tall and stately tree, he had been there beside that murmuring brook for many a moon. So I knew he was very wise and strong. That he would lend his essence to the ritual I had performed.

Six months came and went. Nothing happened. I felt lost and forgotten. I felt the world was a lie. There was no God! It was all a story they make up to tell little children to get them to follow THEIR rules! Then an urge came over me. I asked one of the friends who had been with me that night to go back to the stream with me.

We drove up to the tree I had buried the stone under. There was something going on under the tree. At first I could not believe my eyes. We got out of the car and went to see what was happening under MY tree. As there was a commotion going on.

When I got nearer to the tree, I saw the most amazing site. I rubbed my eyes to see if I was dreaming. This could not be! Then I looked again. Yes, it was so. Under my tree was a spiral of little tiny butterflies. They were flying round and round, ever higher ever faster. The spiral started at the base of the tree and went all the way to the top. Twenty feet of butterflies. I could not believe it. And, best of all. They were pale lavender. The very same color as the stone I buried. I got goose bumps. My stomach began to roll. Then, I realized. This was the sign I had been waiting for! There it was, plain as the nose upon my face!

A heavenly gift.

There was a God!

And best of all. He had heard my prayers. And answered them. I cried for a time then, and so did my friend. He knew what I had buried, and why. It was a miracle! Happening right before our very eyes! I went right up to my gift. To the very edge of all the wonderful butterflies. Still spiraling, still going higher. I looked up to the highest ones. They were glowing in the light of the sun. Flying ever higher. I then looked down to the bottom of the spiral. I was horrified at what I saw. How could this happen I demand to know! Was nothing ever beautiful?

Did it always have to be spoiled by DEATH?

For at the bottom of the spiral were all the wounded and dying butterflies. Some were already dead, and some were struggling pitifully to get back up and fly again. It was so sad. I could not help them. They were just struggling and dying and there was nothing I could do about it. I was so sad and hurt and a bit angry that I just started crying all over again. My present ruined by DEATH, was all I could think.

I went home in a strange mood. I was both elated I had discovered something. Although I was not quite sure WHAT I had discovered. I knew it was something BIG. At home I asked my tarot cards why butterflies? Then I looked at my tree spirit that was on my desk. It was a miniature replica of a little tree. It had been a gift given long ago and I treasured it. I had always tried to decorate the tree, but never did anything fit on it. I looked again at the tree, and at the very top was a little butterfly that I had put on it one day and forgotten about it.

One little butterfly on my treasured tree.

I got goose bumps then.

I sat thinking for a very long time. I realized my prayer had been answered. Although I did not understand what all was being shown to me, I knew I had made a connection. I knew there was a God, or a Spirit, that could hear and answer our prayers. I knew I had discovered a secret, and that the secret concerned a tree, butterflies, and the color lavender. Many years later I learned of the ascension. Of the soul's spiral dance into the heavens. I learned of the Tree of Life, and how the tree symbolizes us and our lives upon this earth we call mother.

I learned a butterfly was the symbol for the soul.

I learned that light lavender is the color of our crown charka.

Most of all, I came to know that in life there is always death. The dying butterflies gave up their life nobly so the others might go higher into the heavens. All living, is in a way a death. To begin life anew is to give up the old. To let things die willingly and to not hang onto them when it is time for them to go.

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