The Global Classroom

The Journey

In the Dream Time
The sun blazed above, wielding it’s full power upon the Australian outback, setting my head spinning and my skin to bake. Beside me, a leathery-skinned elder chanted in a language that, like so many other living things, is now going extinct. Just 3 days into what turned out to be a 22 day fast and ceremonial initiation, I had already learned dozens of words for water, all created to breathe life into the sacred word. Water IS life in this harsh environment, and it demands respect, recognition and reverence. If you do not give proper respect to the water people, they will go elsewhere and leave us frail two-leggeds to become nothing but dust.

While preparing for this initiation, I listened to his every word with a focus and intensity I could never find while living in America. I listened with not just my ears, but my entire body. Each word swirled in the simmering air around my head. If I was to survive, I knew I must become so quiet inside that I could hear my own heart beat within my reddening chest. If I could get to that reflective pool of calm inside me, I knew I would find the guidance to safely proceed. If I failed to listen, I knew I would not survive this ritual.

That sacred journey was so long ago now, yet I have never forgotten that time in my life. It is a keystone in the foundation of who I am. I will never fully understand why I have been called to my tempestuous path, a path of great intensity and passion to explore, teach, learn and experience life to it’s fullest. It seems that on a personal level I am often seeking experiences that thrive at the outer edges of conventional thinking. Occasionally, I find myself reaching into the mists of the unknown, in search of some mystical lesson or deeper understanding to help guide my journey.
I cannot even claim to know what that path looks like. All I know is that it is incredibly BIG, yet clearly marked and narrow. Staying on my path is like walking a razor’s edge: the level of trust and inner harmony it requires is like so many things in life: the harder I try or think, the worse I do. As the elders say, we cannot force magic; we can only allow it.

People often ask me how I could have survived being unclothed in the searing heat of the central desert of Ausralia for 22 days with no food or water. Most who know about fasting say, “But you must have water to survive, especially naked in the desert.” First I say that I was not naked. I was covered in dozens of sacred protector symbols painted on my skin with ochre, a sacred paint made from ground up stones, berries and sometimes blood or urine as a fixative. Secondly, I went to the desert to die, not to “survive.”

There is a lot to a word. Not just in how we use it, but what WE think it means, and what WE expect that word to mean. Death comes in many forms. One big lesson I have learned is this: What we need, and what we THINK we need are two very different things. Living in our cluttered, fast-paced, consumer-driven society, our minds have become under-developed and atrophied. (Einstein used only about 15% of his.)

Our fears and self-imposed limits far out-strip our ability to manifest magic, heal sickness, and especially to trust and love openly and fully. The old ones of Australia say we (the advanced people?) are so well trained (or brain-washed!) into becoming cogs in the great white machine that we cannot think clearly, nor prioritize what is important. (A recent study suggests the ancient people of Australia used as much as 50% of their brains to survive in the bush.) Like a gerbil on a wheel, we run, run, run, but never reach our destination. Even if we do escape the wheel, we have our self-imposed limits that dictate how far we can actually go.

I was warned by the elders that if I went into the desert thinking I needed water to survive, I'd better bring water, or my body would surely die. They stressed that if this is what I believe, I have trained my body to act accordingly. I went to the desert without food and water for 22 days, and thankfully I did not survive. I died in so many ways. Gone were the limits I had imposed on myself! Dead were so many ideas I believed to be truth. It got me thinking: Who's truth was that anyway? And is one person's truth the same as anothers? We all fall prey to believing what we want to believe! During my initiation I felt as though I went through the gates of hell. When I re-emerged, I was stripped clean of my old self. I came back reborn -- so strong, so vibrant, so alive. I believe this type of mini-death is something we should all consider and court more frequently. Thankfully, it does not require selling everything you own, leaving the country and living in the outback eating grubs and lizards.

While I suffered in that heat with no water, I remembered a small poster a friend showed me from the 1950's. It was a cartoon image of a happy mother, child and waggy-tailed dog in the kitchen. Above the image was the phrase "DDT is good for me!" That information was taught as truth, and most people believed it. Only when Rachel Carson dared to write the novel "Silent Spring," did people really start to think for themselves and consider how true that statement really was. Information is not knowledge -- and seeing beyond the dominant paradigm is a rebirth.

Even after so many profound and sacred lessons with the elders, I can still fall prey to a limited way of thinking and being. Thankfully, once again I was recently awakened by the squeak, squeak of the gerbil wheel. Forced to take a step back and listen, I realized I had been running, but getting nowhere. I felt so weak, so unable to manifest anything. Through this humbling epiphany, I could no longer blame anyone but myself. It was so clear I was off my path. Though it is always easier to blame others, ultimately it is almost always my own undoing.

Facing Death
Not too long ago I stood alone in a doctor's office with a sheet of paper in my hand suggesting my on-going health issues were not due to malaria as suspected, but Para-thyroid cancer. I walked out into the bright sun, stunned and questioning everything. I had spent my life saving's trying to figure out from what illness I suffered. I had no backup plan, and no more savings. In so many ways my life was like a slate being wiped clean. I had nothing but a piece of paper listing test results that seemed like a death sentence to me. Physically, I had suffered with intense pain and exhaustion for so long. Equally painful was the fact that during my battles with my health, those closest to me suffered as well, and at great cost. Worse yet was the frustration that the cancer diagnosis was retracted, then later reinstated! How could that be? This is the sort of thing one needs to know for sure.

In a moment of despair, I considered closing up shop, ending Raven Adventures and handing the Global Classroom over to whomever would take it. Instead, I knew I had to find that stillness inside of me I had once used to survive in the intense desert heat of Australia. I went home and lay in a hay field looking at the stars. I remembered a poem by Wendell Berry.

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought or grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Letting Go
Last November left me questioning things more than ever. I decided to turn one of my own questions on myself. I quite often ask people to consider what they would do if they knew they only had one year to live. For me, it was crystal clear. I would still do what I am doing with Global Classroom and Raven Adventures. It is my calling and my greatest joy. Instead of seeing more doctors and more specialists, I would return to Baja, Mexico to guide trips.

As soon as I gave myself permission to do what I knew was right for me (as opposed to what others felt I should do), I felt I was closer to my own path. So in February, after all my trips were finished and all students safely home, I went back to the desert to die (so to speak). After a full season of guiding in Baja, and months of stressful fundraising, I knew it was time to go off into the wilderness to seek the inner silence I once knew so well, by going on a vision quest.

Vision quests are ancient ceremonies used to find clarity, truth and wisdom. I made arrangements with friends, asking them to hold a sacred space for me and to pray that I would be protected as I sat alone in the desert. Initiations and sacred rituals are rarely about being protected from pain, difficulty and struggle. The protection I sought was to help me remain in the light and stay true to MY path, not my assumed path.

There is a critical distinction here. Hope regarding my health was at an all-time low. I no longer had aboriginal elders to guide me, but I did have faith. For me, hope is for when you feel you have options, when you are still capable of making choices and taking action to influence your life. as dealt you a much bigger hand than you can play (or bluff) and it is time to surrender to your God, to your Higher Self, Being or Way.

I walked far into the mountains and climbed high up onto a rocky pinnacle that afforded me a 360 degree panorama of the rugged peninsula. To the North, a gaping canyon snaked its way far into the distance. To my East stood a gnarled ridge of reddish rock, the skeleton of an ancient lava flow. To the South, the sea of Cortez shimmered a turquoise blue. And to the West lay row upon row of jagged peaks. I ceremoniously made a circle of stones, placing one in each direction of the compass, to symbolize the four corners of the earth. I entered the circle and announced my presence and asked permission to remain for as many days as it would take to have my vision. I began to pray, but had to stop myself as there were far too many things and people I wanted to pray for. So, in the language of the old ones, I offered one simple prayer: that all will be as it is meant to be. I then sat down to seek my vision and to find my inner silence.

For three days and nights that silence eluded me. I sat motionless, but could not help reliving the pain and struggles of battling a body that had been racked by my mysterious illness. Nor could I forget the toll that battle took on my life, both professionally and personally. I opted out of seeing more doctors to go on this quest, knowing very well I may not return. I was open to any and all possibilities. Not too long ago someone accused me of being flippant about my personal safety and health because I chose to do this vision quest instead of considering chemotherapy. I stood watching while he slowly killed himself chain-smoking cigarettes.

We all have a right to choose our own path and our challenges. We all have our self-sabotaging warriors too! I have seen enough of life and death to know that in an instant any one of us could die. We all put our lives in the hands of total strangers every single day. People trust things like that DDT poster because we want to believe what we are told (or not told!). Things have not changed since that poster was printed. Right now there is someone selling or doing something that they know is harmful, or even lethal, but they will not hesitate to make a buck off it. In Aboriginal law, to knowingly harm someone through deception or spiritual magic is often times punishable by death. I know myself well enough to know that if I am too far off my path and do nothing about it, life will. My life will be totally up-ended and turned upside down, with all the accompanying trauma and emotional pain. I decided I'd had enough of that, and would take the initiative and go looking for my lost path.

Questing
I sat in my medicine circle for several days. I fasted, I prayed, I wept and I laughed. I was visited by a Red-tailed Hawk, three massive Bighorn Sheep with muscles rippling in the sun, and most importantly for me, a Western Diamondback Rattlesnake. I will go no further with the description of my personal journey in the circle and what happened with the snake, as I myself am still processing it. But I will say that during this vision quest I reached a place of absolute acceptance regarding the future of my body to die or heal. I knew that whatever came, was meant to happen. The peace I found within myself could never be put into words.

What followed in the days after the snake visit helped me find yet more peace. Like it or not, my plate was wiped clean. I found a clarity that was previously unparalleled in my life. I re-discovered my path, placed both feet upon it, and started walking. I walked out of the desert, giving myself permission to accept the gifts that were offered to me, both in my vision quest circle, and in my circle of friends and elders. I sought out new friends, healers and doctors. I vowed to seek my inner peace on a daily basis.

Nothing is as it seems
Relief from my illness came slowly at first. Then, like snow sliding off a warm roof in springtime, years of exhaustion and pain began falling around my feet. Those close to me know something has shifted; they see it in my eyes. Faith gave way to hope, then hope slipped into trust. From trust came truth, and in one's truth there is always healing. I knew all along what medicine I needed, and when I gave myself permission to fully accept it as a gift, everything started coming together. I am once again on my path. I have been officially cleared of any cancer (if it ever existed), my health has improved to the point that I have begun to laugh, run, play, eat and sleep. I feel reborn. Each day is a blessing. It is a new day, and what a glorious one it is!

I have bounced back with a renewed passion for Global Classroom and Raven Adventures. Just last week I had some friends come to visit me in my little cabin. We sat together in silence, closed our eyes and blessed life, our food and all the hands that went into making our meal possible. Thirty minutes later we opened our eyes! When we did, I noticed a small beech limb hanging in front of my window. (I had always thought I would trim it back, as it scrapes the house.) While the rest of the forest had resigned itself to a deathly winter gray, this one little tree blazed in golden glory.

As I sat silently, waiting for my friends to open their eyes, the yellows of that tree reminded me of Gil Allen, my best friend and hero when I was a teen. It was late fall. I was maybe 17, and he was in his 70's. We were working at the back of his quaint little home (that he had started building in 1928) and he was putting the last piece of trim along the soffit. Chuckling, he said, "This building was a shanty when I started and it's a shanty now. But it is finally done after all these years." He climbed down off the ladder and turned and looked out across the mountains of Shelburne Falls, in their flaming autumn brilliance. He said, "I have been here over 70 years and every year the mountains are more and more beautiful." I acknowledged him with just a nod. Silently, I got on my bike and rode away. When I got home, I was informed that Gil just died.

Sitting in the cabin with my friends, I wondered about the words written on the paper the Doctor handed me, and I caught myself looking up at the missing trim along the ceiling of my cabin, trim that still awaits me after nearly a decade. Life is so powerful, yet so frail. It can come and go in the blink of an eye; we balance on an invisible edge. I believe we are here in this life for reasons beyond our tunnel-visioned scope. We are here to accomplish "inner" tasks, and while the daily stuff of fixing storm doors and getting our carpets cleaned may seem like silly, yet necessary distractions, we are on a journey that we ultimately have no control over. Armed with that thought, I put off nailing up that last piece of trim a little while longer. Though I do trust I will remain on this earth until it is time for me to go, I decide to not tempt fate and left the missing trim for another day.

Rebirth
Life is such a precious thing. Feeling you have a second chance is a miracle. I know I have had extraordinary experiences and I do not expect most people to understand where I am coming from regarding vision quests and Aboriginal ways. Desert initiations are not for everyone. But I also know that every one of you reading this newsletter have been through your own form of initiation, whether it be raising kids, getting a divorce, the death of a loved one, loosing a job; each one potentially full of doubt, fear, confusion, trust, faith and hope.

I believe the planet and all it's creatures (including humans) are at a critical point. In times like these, I feel we must have hope, and if hope does not come, we should seek an inner stillness and resign ourselves to our own faith. Miracles and clarity await a gentle place and time to appear. There is a quote I like on a friend's refrigerator: "We are not humans having a spiritual moment, we are spirits having a human moment."

I pray there will come a day when humans will no longer fear change and letting go. When we will once again have elders to assist us in negotiating those unexpected initiations. When we can take time to listen deep inside ourselves and fully trust our own abilities. A time when we will all take responsibility for our own actions and the outcomes. For these are the moments that make us grow inside. I hope we can all find the courage to speak our deepest truths and fears, and learn to hold love with an open hand, heart and mind. We all have so much to gain by doing so. The end of something is always the beginning of something else. Today, as I hand over the Global Classroom, I am reminded of that more than ever.
I decided to share my story about my vision quest because I believe we are all entering a time that will require some very deep personal thinking and reflecting, a time when we must begin questioning what we are told, question what we are doing. We must act NOW to ensure there is always a healthy planet for our children. I do not know if this story will mean anything to you, but if one person reading this newsletter finds something they resonate with, something that may give them the courage to face the challenges that lie before them, it is not a waste of paper.

Return To The Magic
Less than a fortnight from our August deadline, the Global Classroom was still more that $50,000 short of reaching our goal. It looked as if our attempt to protect 311 acres of old growth corridor was lost. We stood to lose over $135,000 and the land that we had tried so hard to protect. I knew I had to begin totally letting go. There were times when I felt like quitting, but I knew I would keep trying and go down with the vessel if it came to that. There was no way I was going to abandon ship before the deadline. It was a challenging time, for sure. (In a two week period, I did 23 slide shows, lectures and radio shows!) I was wiped out, but I had faith. For weeks leading up to the deadline, we had been caught in a whirlpool of disharmony and extreme stress. I could feel the collective energy of potential out there, like water being held behind an imaginary dam. I knew if we could just remove the flotsam, the funds would start flowing. It was clear that another all-out initiation was in order for me.

I stepped back, got my bearings and asked myself if I could find the absolute faith I had known in Australia and then again in Baja. I answered with a resounding YES! Now I had to act upon the very faith I told others I had.

I fully believe the energy and intention with which we do things is just as important as the outcome. By letting go of some huge things that were holding me in my own fear, I was once again able to get back on my true path, long overgrown with emotional weeds, fertilized by my own emotional compost. When my feet hit that familiar path, my heart and mind shifted, and so did the energy around our fundraising.
Just days before defaulting, a number of supporters wanted to make pledges, but only if we could assure them we would make the deadline. These offers kept us dancing on the edge -- and then it happened! On good faith, a miracle donation of $30,000 was pledged to help keep us from defaulting. Then, nearly simultaneously, many other donations poured in. A crack had appeared in the invisible dam. Then it totally burst! We rode the wave and surfed past our deadline -- way past! In just over 3 months we have raised over $200,000 and reached our goal of $378,000, a full year ahead of schedule. It all happened because someone was willing to take the first step, to be bold and trust in something that may have seemed impossible. I reflect once more on the state of the planet, and pray that together we can all be so brave. That we may each take a first step toward healing old wounds, strive for world peace, seek unconditional love and take action to help create a healthier planet.

Thanks to all of you, we have saved one of the most beautiful old growth forests left in Costa Rica. I always tell my students, "Don't let anyone tell you you cannot accomplish what you set out to do. If your heart is truly in it, and you have absolute faith, spirit will provide. Just remember, you have to do the footwork! And TRUST!"

A special thanks goes out to De, Ellen, Karen, Heart and Joaquin, Marie, REM, Michael Stipe and so many others that had faith in us to pull off what seemed nearly impossible. And a huge hug and high five goes out to all our volunteers. You are amazing. Thank you! Together we all succeeded in protecting a beautiful part of the planet. It was an exciting initiation, but not one I care to repeat!