The Twelve Wild Swans

by Starhawk

  A group might want to set aside several sessions for this process, so that each person can have half an hour or more to tell their story without being interrupted. The storytellers of the night can bring pictures of their ancestors, important symbols or objects, and appropriate food to share. Create sacred space. Set up an altar or altars with the offerings brought by the storytellers. Let the first person begin, speaking without being interrupted or questioned until she or he is done. When each storyteller is finished, seat her in the center of the circle, chant her name to affirm her story, or sing an ancestor chant.

  In sacred space, tell the story of one of your ancestors or family members in the first person. “I am Hannah Rivkeh. I live in a small shtetl outside Kiev, and I’m five years old. My father has just died…” This exercise can bring us to a deep place of understanding and empathy for our ancestors, but be aware that it can bring up very powerful emotions. We may become overwhelmed by the pain and grief of the past. Be sure to have some help and support available. Use your anchor to your core worth to bring you back, and consciously release the spirit of your ancestor. Make a libation or put food or flowers on your ancestor altar.

  If you are working alone, you can write out your ancestor story in your Book of Shadows. Be sure you have someone you can go to for support, however, for the insights and emotions that may surface.

  Heritage Ritual

  This can be a powerful ritual for a small group, or it could be done as part of a larger ritual.

  In sacred space, four special altars are set up in the four directions. In the east is a small bowl of essential oil, provided no one in the group is allergic. (If someone is, substitute a bowl of strong-smelling herbs such as bay leaves that can be crushed and sniffed. But be careful with bay leaves: sniff lightly, or your sinuses will burn for a long time afterward.)

  In the south, place a lit candle.

  In the west, place a bowl of water and a bowl of salt.

  In the north, place a bowl of fruit.

  In a small group (ten or less), each participant in turn can make the circle of the altars after a time of meditation.

  In the east, I anoint myself with the essential oil (or sniff the herbs) and name what I’m proud of in my heritage: “I take pride in the Jewish tradition of struggle for social justice.”

  In the south, I pluck a hair from my head and burn it in the candle flame. As it shrivels, I name what I want to release from my heritage: “I release my anger and frustration, and my mother’s anger, about the preference given to men in our heritage.”

  In the west, I take a pinch of salt and drop it into the water and name what I grieve for in my heritage: “I grieve for all the victims of the Holocaust.”

  In the north, I take a piece of fruit and name what nurtures and sustains me: “I am fed by the warmth, the music, the lively arguments and intellectual stimulation of my heritage.”

  In a larger group ritual, priestesses can stand at the elemental altars and ask participants individually, “What is your pride in your heritage?”; “What do you need to release from your heritage?”; and so forth. Participants can be given time to wander among the altars at random or to meditate on a central fire or cauldron. The stations can also be set up in sequence as an entrance transition into sacred space. At one multicultural ritual, where people came and went throughout a long day of storytelling, we used altars much like these, positioned within a maze of curtains, to help people enter and leave our sacred space.

  Racism is one of the worst “ill wishes” that plague our society. It goes hand in hand with the other “‘ism’ brothers,” as Teish calls them: sexism, heterosexism, classism, ageism, and all other forms of discrimination. In our story, Rose was not the cause of her brothers’ transformation, yet she benefited from it, and through no desire of her own. So many of us benefit from the privileges conferred by the “ism” brothers even when the deepest desire of our hearts is to eradicate all of them. And the “ism” brothers live inside us: none of us has been raised free of prejudice. As Rose must first learn of her brothers’ existence before she can set out to free them, so we must be able to see those “isms” within if we are to free ourselves and make our communities truly open and inclusive.

  Center Invocation and Exercise

  The center of the circle can be a powerful place for confronting issues of centrality and exclusion. Flame is a transgendered Reclaiming teacher who knows only too well what it feels like to be the outsider. Her heritage is Latina, and she is a living challenge to our concept of a world divided into clearly defined realms of “male” and “female.” Flame is both, neither, and something else entirely: uniquely herself. Her own struggles with recovery from addiction and with disease have given her a deep sense of compassion and a strong commitment to justice. She wrote the following invocation: “Our society and dominant culture tells us that to be in the center is to be white, heterosexual. We know this is an illusion and call forth the vision of our future into the center, the future that recognizes diversity as the true, unifying centering force. We call Huey Newton, Oshun, La Diosa Del Mar, Drag Sky Father … [elements of diversity that mostly go unnamed in the dominant culture—names of Gods and Goddesses of indigenous cultures of color, queer powers, names of slain civil rights activists, and so forth].”

  Flame suggests: “Look around at your next ritual and see who is present, and also see who is not present. This invocation can begin to raise this awareness.”

  Working with our ancestors and with issues of diversity was one of the central themes of our Texas Witchcamp when Flame and I both taught there in 1999. One of the other teachers was Brook, who has been a friend and fellow activist since we met at the Diablo Canyon blockade in 1981. A devoted father, skilled group facilitator, and software designer, he bridges many worlds. After talking with Flame about her center invocation, we created the following exercise for the path on power that we were co-teaching:

  In sacred space, ground and center. Imagine for a moment that you are the center of the universe. (Don’t we all often secretly think so!) Now imagine that the center of power and status in your culture is peopled with those of your gender, who look like you, come from similar backgrounds, think and talk like you. How do you feel? Mentally run through a typical day—your home, your work, your relationships. Imagine people like yourself depicted on billboards, in magazines, and on TV as models of attractiveness and success. Imagine them writing the most prestigious books, staffing the universities, peopling Congress, the Supreme Court, the White House, the highest ranks of government and power. What changes? In what way are those like you truly at center? In what ways are they not?

  Now for a moment imagine someone you think is exactly opposite to you. Don’t think too much; just go with whoever comes to mind. In what ways is this person different? Gender? Race? Class? Values? Now imagine a society in which this person and others like her or him are at center. Envision them depicted on billboards, in magazines, and on TV as models of attractiveness and success. Imagine them writing the most prestigious books, staffing the universities, peopling Congress, the Supreme Court, the White House, the highest ranks of government and power. What would change? Imagine looking at the world through this person’s eyes. How do you see yourself? Others like you?

  Now let go of your opposite. Reflect for a moment on the qualities you chose as opposite to yourself. Most likely there were different choices you could have made in some areas. For example, you might have chosen someone much poorer—but you could also have chosen someone much richer. Quickly think of another opposite, with different qualities, and run through the questions above again.

  Now come back, and let go of your opposites. Imagine the center as growing bigger and bigger, with room for you and your opposites and a wide range of diversity. How do you feel in that center? What do you give up, and what do you gain?

  In discussion or journaling afterward, reflect again on the choices you made. Do they represent certain stereotypes about groups
of people? We all have them, and acknowledging them consciously can make it easier to go beyond them. And what do your choices reveal about how you see yourself?

  In the group Brook and I led, a high proportion of people saw their opposite as “a corporate executive.” This struck us as odd, since most of the group were in many ways much closer to the demographics of corporate executives than to 90 percent of the people in the world. I also felt compelled to point out that long-haired, bearded, groovy Brook was himself, in his day job, a corporate executive—albeit in the somewhat more tolerant world of high tech.

  This exercise can reveal a lot about our own sense of relative power in the world. Ask yourself, “Are my stereotypes limiting my vision? Are they empowering or disempowering to me?”

  The Treasure Cave of the Ancestors: A Trance

  (This trance evolved from many of the journeys led by poet Rafael Jesus Gonzalez and me for the Multicultural Ritual Group.)

  In sacred space, use your favorite trance induction to lead the group into a deep place of awareness.

  Breathe deeply…

  Look around you. You have come into the landscape of your ancestry. Breathe deeply, and feel the air on your skin, notice its temperature, how it smells and feels as you breathe it in. Look to the east, and notice what you see and hear and feel and sense… Look to the south, and notice what you see and hear and feel and sense… Look to the west, and notice what you see and hear and feel and sense… Look to the north, and notice what you see and hear and feel and sense… Look to the center, and notice what you see and hear and feel and sense…

  And now as you look around you, you’ll notice that somewhere in this place there is an opening, an opening to a cave, a cave that is the treasure-house of the ancestors. And you take a deep breath, and you stand for a moment at the entrance to this cave. Notice how it looks to you, how it feels, what you can touch and sense at the threshold. Know that across this threshold lie the treasures and also the burdens of the ancestors. Ask yourself if you truly wish to enter. Are you called to enter? Is it right for you to enter at this moment?

  And if it is right for you, what is the offering you leave at the threshold? What offering do the ancestors ask of you? Feel its weight as you place it at the threshold; know where you place it.

  And now you step across the threshold into the cave. Feel the air; feel how it changes, what changes around you as you enter. And you begin to walk through the cave, feeling the weight of your body shift from foot to foot, feeling the air on your skin, and noticing what you can see and hear and feel and sense around you.

  This cave has many branches, many twists and turnings, but you know your way. Something is calling you, and you follow, noticing what you see and feel and hear and sense as you go.

  And now you come to the chamber that has been calling you. Take a deep breath, and enter. You can see here, and you look around, for this is the treasure chamber of your ancestors.

  Take your time now; examine what is here. The ancestors have left many things for you. Among them you will find gifts, great treasures, things that you need.

  And among them you will find things that were useful to your ancestors but are not useful to you.

  And among them you will find things that were hurtful to your ancestors and to others.

  And among them you will find things that have rotted away in time.

  And among them you will find things buried deep in dust.

  And among them you will find things your ancestors did not value but that are treasures to you.

  And among them you will find things that need repair and healing.

  Take your time; take all the time you need. Pick and sort, cleanse and choose. Remember all your magical tools and the great powers you can draw on, and decide what to do in this treasure cave.

  What will you bury? What will you burn?

  What are the gifts of the ancestors you will take?

  What will you work to heal? What unfinished tasks are you willing to take on?

  Pick and sort, cleanse and choose. Take your time; take all the time that you need…

  And when you are done, look around this treasure cave. What do you carry with you, and how do you carry it? Take a few more moments to complete anything you need to finish.

  And thank your ancestors for what they have given you. And say good-bye to the treasure cave. Take one last look around.

  And now begin to make your way back through the cave, feeling the air on your skin, and the weight of your body shifting from foot to foot, noticing what you see and hear and feel and sense as you go.

  And now you pause for a moment at the threshold. Say good-bye to the cave, and give thanks for all you have learned. Is there another offering you need to make?

  Now step across the threshold. Look back at the cave, at the offering you’ve left, and know you can return here again if you need to or want to.

  And now you stand once again in the landscape of your ancestors. Feel the gifts that you carry, think about the work you’ve done, and know that you will carry their memory and these changes with you as you say good-bye. Look to the center, and notice what you see and hear and feel and sense, and say good-bye… Look to the north, and notice what you see and hear and feel and sense, and say good-bye… Look to the west, and notice what you see and hear and feel and sense, and say good-bye… Look to the south, and notice what you see and hear and feel and sense, and say good-bye… Look to the east, and notice what you see and hear and feel and sense, and say good-bye…

  Reverse your induction to bring the group back, and allow time for discussion.

  When the ancestors are close to us, they may come to us in unexpected ways even when our beliefs and practices differ greatly from theirs. My Orthodox Jewish grandmother is with me when I bake bread on Solstice night. My father, a radical and activist, marches with me to demonstrations. My mother occasionally insists that I clean out my files.

  We can also call on the ancestors we don’t know to help us, to infuse us with forgotten knowledge, to inspire us and protect us whenever we take up the tasks that can make the world a more welcoming place for the children and the unborn.

  Before she could take up her task of healing, Rose needed to know the truth about her brothers and the unfair bargain that brought her into the world. When we have acknowledged and integrated our own heritage and found those ancestors who can truly be our allies, we can begin to envision communities in which we are free to grow beyond the constraints of the past. We can welcome the diversity that gives our communities the resilience of a prairie or a pristine forest.

  We have begun our journey upon the Outer Path. We have each found an anchor to our core worth. Willing to heal the ills we did not create, we have begun the work of gathering our allies, of acknowledging the complexity of our heritages and honoring our ancestors. Now we can step outside the castle, into the wilderness that awaits us.

  TWO

  Wandering in the Wilderness

  Comments on the Story

  Rose leaves the castle and sets out to find her brothers. Not knowing where she is going, she wanders in the wilderness. She meets an Old Woman, and to her Rose gives half of her meager store of bread. “Follow the river to its end,” the Old Woman advises, “and there you may meet your brothers.”

  Rose has undertaken responsibility. She has left the castle and set out to save her brothers. Of course, she has no idea how to find her brothers, let alone save them. So she simply wanders.

  On an initiatory journey, we’re not given a map. There are no instruction books for how to find our personal power. To set off without a destination is a kind of madness, but it is just that type of courage we need in order to create and heal: the courage to enter unknown territory.

  Rose knows she has undertaken the right task, and she trusts that if she begins, the way will become clear. An initiatory journey is also a creative process, and every work of creation requires a period of wandering in the wilderness: juggling ideas a
nd possibilities, doodling on the blank page, scribbling draft after draft only to discard them. Life often works the same way. While some people manage to go smoothly from high school to college to graduate school to a successful career, with marriage and children interspersed at exactly the right time, many of us spend time traipsing up and down, following deer trails that peter out, and occasionally slipping into the bog. Our friends and family shake their heads or nag, and often it is not clear for years at a time whether we’ve embarked on a journey of empowerment or are simply quite lost. In fact, many people do get lost and never find their way to the river.

  Rose finds help. More important, when help appears, she meets it with generosity. She shares her food with the Old Woman. This is the classic test of worthiness in fairy tales. Guides and helpers often appear as beggars. The willingness to share even with those who appear lowly is what marks a hera or hero as worthy of guidance.

  Help is always around us, but to make use of it, we must first recognize it and respond with an open hand and heart. We cannot be misled by marks of status or outward appearance. We cannot wait for the experts to appear when we wander in the unknown. And when help does come, we cannot hold back the resources we have. We must give in exchange for what we receive. Thus we can meet our guides as equals, not dependents.

  Rose’s generosity sets her on the path. The river appears, and she must follow it to its end. To make use of guidance, to emerge empowered from our wanderings, we must be willing to follow the path that eventually comes clear to us, and to follow it as far as it goes. In magic, in art, in writing, in ritual, it is easy to give up too soon. The first draft of almost anything is usually pretty poor. Success or failure often depends on our willingness to rewrite, to listen to criticism and revise, over and over, until we get it just right.

  Following the river to its end requires all the qualities we’ve developed so far in this journey. We must continue to have the courage to follow our path. We must recognize guidance when it comes and meet it with generosity, as we must be generous with the work we undertake, willing to go all the way and not hold back. Creativity, generosity, and guidance form the basis of our work with this second section of the story.