When the journey began, the stillness of the sunny day quickly shifted.  The wind came up, caressing the walls of the arena, creating sounds of soft creaks and folds. Sand blew through the big door and along the floor as the snow capped Long’s Peak watched over the land from a distance.  I focused on my footsteps and the sounds of the rhythm beads I held to my hip. Birds, suddenly chirping louder, invading the inside of my being. Wind now blowing in gusts; butterflies twirled in my belly.  My big buckskin, Moon, walked next to me.  His head dropped as we both moved around the outside of the round pen.  My mustang, Corazon, with his stout powerful body followed behind me with Suzanne, and behind them my big, soft, curious mare Sylvie, with Reggie.

My dear friend and shamanic healer, Kate, sat with the group of participants inside the round pen, drumming steadily. Read More→