Twenty-eight years ago I was given what may be the most important teaching of my life by a Cree Medicine Woman named Rose. I had been told in meditation that I was to meet a Medicine Woman. I thought this strange because I was not involved with Native American spirituality, nor did I know then that I have Cree ancestry in my mother's lineage. Shortly after this meditation, I saw a photo of a very impressive looking Cree Medicine Woman in full tribal regalia in the local holistic newspaper. This happened before Native Americans were so generously sharing their teachings in the wider world, so it was a surprise to see her in the paper in Washington, D.C., and more of a surprise that her arrival was announced in my meditation.
I asked for a dream to see if this was the medicine woman I was intended to see. That night, I dreamed that she and I came face to face at a gathering of my spiritual community. We had a strong, non-verbal interaction where it became clear that she was the one and that I had to be utterly scrupulous in my meeting with her. The power she exuded was scary and she seemed fierce in her requirement that I be scrupulous in my interactions with her. When she looked into my eyes, I felt that she penetrated my soul with her piercing eyes and I had better be very clear and in alignment when I met with her.
We had two meetings. In the first one, I told her the dream and she felt it to be confirming and significant. She then told me that before she could pray with her sacred pipe to see if Great Spirit wanted her to work with me, I had to bring her some object that was precious to me in some way, not in terms of monetary value, but something that I would never ordinarily consider giving to another person. I meditated for days, prayed, looked at all of my possessions, and finally I knew what the object was by my response: NO! Not that! It turned out to be a multi-colored afgan made by my mother, one of several beautiful crocheted afgans she had given to me. Of all of them, this one was my favorite and there would not be any more afgans coming. My mother had died the summer before I met Rose. It was clear and I was willing. I felt like I was bringing her a slice of my heart, the pain in the giving was so sharp.
I gave Rose the afgan along with some other items she requested. A few days went by and I received a call telling me to pick her up on a certain morning, as she was going to spend a few hours with me. On the day I did that, the 20 minute silence in the car was excruciating, and at my house we settled into a more comfortable time of talking as two women. She offered no ceremonies, but she did say that she prayed for me to Great Spirit who told her to come and spend time with me. I fixed her a strange lunch of fish, steak and salad because it was what was served at the potluck in my dream of Rose. She was delighted and told me that fish and steak were two of perhaps five things she could actually eat due to a medical condition! We sat by the fire and talked about her life and mine—all very simple and ordinary.
Little did I know then that making this sacrifice of my mother’s afgan was utterly life-changing. The ritual itself pierced and opened my heart in new ways. In less than two years, the women’s mystery school came into being and we built a building for Temenos and the mystery school in the country. I felt and still feel that giving my mother’s afgan to Rose had everything to do with it. It was many years later that I learned that my mother’s Canadian mother was of French and Cree blood. I came to know Rose on the inner levels over the years, and continued to share the precious teaching of sacrifice with my students. I can say from here that this teaching became ongoing and central to my own spiritual life. Everyone and everything we love comes and goes, eventually including us and our lives. We can endure these losses, and do, or we can align with them. Making sacrifice is one way of doing that, of making visible the grace that is inherent and available when someone or something dies or leaves.
I came to understand the power of making sacred. We do not make sacrifice to get something, and yet amazing happenings always seem to follow the making of true sacrifice. We offer this ritual if and when we feel called. Rose's teaching showed me that we can make any loss an intentional sacrifice, give up what we don't want to give gracefully, even amidst resistance, by choosing to make it sacred, by honoring whatever the loss is as an intentional sacrifice. Spiritual support aligns with that intention. It still hurts, our hearts break open, and we grieve as we would anyway. Yet the difference is that we are in alignment with what is, we are saying 'yes' even when some part of us is still in the "NO" of it all. There is room for everything and the inherent grace surfaces and surrounds us. I noticed early on that it allowed me not to feel separate, but to feel part of a larger circle of life and community. Doing this for past losses and un-reconciled losses brings the grace to the surface, as well as a sense of peace within our own hearts. Possibilities we cannot imagine open up.
We can also make conscious sacrifice as prayer, in service to some intent or request for another or ourselves—not to get something, but to humble ourselves and express our sincerity. We cannot fake this, just as I could not fake anything when I met Rose in my dream. Being scrupulous is required and we are the only ones who know whether we are being that or not. It is a very powerful Teaching and Teacher.
I invite you to consider making a ritual of true sacrifice if you feel called. Ttake the time to meditate, pray, to discover the right, true object to be given. You will know it when you feel that resounding "NO" within. Tune in to see to whom you are to give the object that you would never consider giving. Notice your resistance, notice the stories that arise, notice your willingness and your longing. There are times when making sacrifice is the only thing we can do, and other times it is just not here to do. Your heart will know...
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