In Celebration of A Story

On Sunday, November 13, an elder born as M. Norman Powell and known as Ingwe ("The Leopard"), passed away. This 91-year-old man had been a fourth generation African of British ancestry who had learned the ways of the wilderness and tribe from the Akamba people and others, and who had himself been initiated as a warrior and member into the Akamba tribe. He received a vision and the "spirit of the leopard" at age 15, which led him to tell stories and pass on the ways of the wilderness to youth for much of his life. With Jon Young, he founded Wilderness Awareness School, with the intent of guiding young people and others into becoming 'native to their place'- helping them to grow in knowledge and love of the natural world around them and develop a rich intimate connection with the earth. His stories of his youth running barefoot on the Kenya plains and exploring and hunting in the African wilderness, and of experiencing the earth in a sacred manner, excited the imaginations and touched the hearts of young and old alike.

As the "Grandfather of Wilderness Awareness School" Ingwe said that unlike many other elderly people he was never lonely. Three times a week he might expect young people to visit him, because:

So what did this man have to do with the Village? I asked myself this question as I lit my candle on 2:30PM on November 14, corresponding with the lighting of a Sacred Fire for Ingwe at Malalo ya Chui (The Lair of the Leopard). Malalo ya Chui is the site on the Wilderness Awareness School property where ten years ago Ingwe had thrust his staff in the ground and declared that this would be the school's central fire - the place where children would gather and stories would be told. I reflected on the Village's own Central Fire. I recalled that it was the story of Ingwe's fire and seeing how his vision had come to pass in a huge and beautiful way in the past decade that had inspired our own.

So in honor of Ingwe, allow me to share a few stories about our Village Fire. Imagine yourself seated with a gathering of Villagers around a fire circle built of large solid stones. A fire, cheerful and bright, snaps and glows before us. Song, intention, and good wishes fuel the fire as much as the wood, and shared stories, comraderie and care sustain it. Here is the story of the First Fire.

Last fall the Village opened its official location at Elizabeth's. The fire was new and young and hot, with ideas and activities flying. By this past summer it had settled into that steady easy flame that let us know that it was going to be with us for a good long time. We felt it was time to formally welcome the Spirit of the Elders into the Village by creating a Central Fire to be the symbolic heart of the Village. Dorothy Johnson's place seemed the perfect location, as Dorothy is an elder herself, and it seemed that the woods themselves could act as elders for us in an imaginative sense, if not literally.

A group of us gathered at Dorothy's one day. The children headed out into the forest, and of one mind, decided on the location of the fire circle. Then all of us who were there tramped a circle in the grasses, speaking good wishes and intention for the Village. Several weeks later, a larger group gathered, preparing the circle by clearing it and lining it with stone, and creating blessing flags that now surround the area. We enjoyed a potluck, and then gathered for our first fire, our first song, our first story. Abraham McBride and Jessa Zimmerman worked their bow drills, trying to get coals going, while the rest of us sang and added our intention. It seemed like a coal might never get going! But then Daniel Evans (he and his wife Bekah were our special guests) placed his hand on Jessa's, helping her to add pressure to the drill, and a flame ignited. I thought it a beautiful thing that Jessa, who is in so many ways the "Clan Mother" of the Village, was the one to get the flame started, but that she needed our focused intention and an extra helping hand to get it going.

Then came that magical part where the coal comes to life. Emma Zimmerman and Abraham carried a tinder bundle with the coal nestled within to each of us around the circle. We gently breathed a good wish to the coal. And so the fire began. We offered blessings of cedar into the fire, and Daniel Evans told the first stories. And that was the First Fire, created and held by each one of us who was there.

I leave the story of the Second Fire to be told by someone who was there. What I recall hearing was that the folks there weren't able to get a coal going, but we'd all agreed before that the Central Fire at Dorothy's should always be started by primitive means, just as with Ingwe's fire at Malalo ya Chui. But even without the physical fire, the heart fire glowed, and stories were shared all around.

This past Friday, the Soriano family hosted a Village Storytelling Circle around their hearthfire. We could have enjoyed the fire outside under the stars and gazing out on the black of forest and Sound, but chose to share in their candlelit front room - a truly magical space that reminded me of a medieval hall. We told a few shared stories - someone starting one, and the rest added onto it. Then we held our own honoring of Ingwe. Emma brought forth a piece of wood that she had brought back from Malalo ya Chui and the Sacred Fire there. She and her sister Sarah had picked out a piece of maple from their home and had taken it Ingwe's fire, Vashon's gift to the fire and honoring of Ingwe. In return Emma had brought back this piece of wood to represent the spirit of Ingwe's fire joining ours. We passed around the piece of wood, saying something we were thankful for, what represented to us a hopeful world, and then Emma placed the wood in the fire. We sang "I Hear The Wolf, the Fox, and the Weasel" and another fabulous song that the kids had learned recently at Wilderness Awareness School (I'm going to have to learn that one soon!), and then began our Ingwe stories.

Emalia Hinden-Stevenson told one about how a leopard had chased Ingwe (then a youth) and a friend and Ingwe had ended up killing it. Emma told a story about Ingwe celebrating his 90th birthday at Disneyland, how he saw the tracks of Jon Young everywhere on the concrete of the park, and, later, in the hotel tracked Jon Young across the carpet and to a closet where he was hiding to surprise Ingwe. [we learned later that the story was actually abuot Tom Brown, not Ingwe - still, it's a great tale!] In amazing detail, Sarah told the story of how Ingwe received the Spirit of the Leopard. I'd brought my newly rebuilt wire-strung harp (a harp that is patterned after the ancient Irish bardic harps). It is still settling into its tuning, but I improvised a song in honor of our gathering anyway. After that we heard some more stories. Alex Soriano told some marvelous ones - his last being the hit of the evening with the kids! I'll leave a child to relay that one to you!