Becoming the Storm
19 Ritual
JESSICA AND AMY arrived mid-afternoon with Maggie and Jess. They’d finished taping a Redress episode in San Antonio and were all shivering when they got back to Indiana. All four went immediately to the rows of survival kits. We hadn’t put one there for Jess, but Maggie added one. As parents and family had arrived over the past few days, we’d explained what we were doing and many had added kits for themselves and added things to our kits. It was turning into a huge display of Christmas stockings shaped like plastic boxes, purses, and waist packs.
Jim and Jill Swift had come in on Monday, surprising us all. They’d just been here for Thanksgiving! They hardly ever came north during the winter. Jim had surveyed all the kits we were assembling and hugged Jill to him. I’d never told anyone in the clan where the original idea had come from. Only that Dad had mentioned the possibility. Of course, Jim would know immediately. I wondered if he would be hurt by the memory of his brother. The next day, the two of them also had kits. I got some of the best photos of Matt with Doug and Doreen that I could find and added them to their kits.
Christmas Eve, everyone who was at the ranch or nearby jammed into the studio. Christmas Day, the casa and their guests would celebrate separately. Rose made it clear that it was my responsibility to welcome everyone and say ‘something important.’ I got up on the control platform and somebody started clinking on a glass. It was joined until everyone’s attention came to me.
“Merry Christmas!” I said. Everyone responded. “I’m so glad that our families and friends chose to join us here at the ranch for the holiday. I wish we had room for everyone to stay out here, but I’m glad you have all found places to sleep tonight. With visions of sugar plums and all that.” There was a little laughter. “I’m told that there was an old celebration of winter holidays called Yule. It coincides with the fact that we’ve just passed the longest and darkest night of the year and now the days get progressively longer. We have several holiday traditions that come from the celebration of Yule, like giving gifts, a Christmas tree, and a Yule log on the fire. But I found a celebration that also meant a lot to me when I read it. It said that the Yule log represented the darkness of the year turned to light. The symbolism was that it was not only the turning of the season, but the darkness of, for lack of a better word, our souls. On the Yule log, we figuratively place all the things that have darkened our souls in the past year and then burn it so those things turn to light and warmth for the New Year. Our resident forester, Del, took some guys out to cut our tree and they also brought back a log for us to burn tonight. Guys?”
Lionel and Lamar carried a log through the studio together. It wasn’t really so big that it required two of them, but it was impressive to see the two giants carrying it as if it weighed a ton. It was only about three feet long and nine inches in diameter. They’d measured the fireplace to determine the largest log that would fit and be able to burn. But we’d decided to have some fun with the burning as well. The guys took turns calling things to people as they worked their way from one side of the room to the other and then from the platform back to the fireplace.
Bring out your dead!
Bring out your darkness!
Put your sadness on the log!
Let sorrow perish in the fire!
Release your anger and your frustration!
Let bitterness ride the log!
Bring out your losses!
Bring your shattered dreams!
Put your darkness on the log!
They just kept tossing out random phrases as they thought of them and suddenly people were joining them. I wasn’t anticipating that. People just started calling out things they wanted to part with.
“Here’s the stress from my job!”
“Here’s the injury from my accident!”
“Here’s my loneliness!”
“Here’s my extra baby fat.”
People were actually reaching out to touch the log as it came by. It was moving. People had tears in their eyes as Lamar and Lionel collected the darkness of the year. They were nearly at the fire and Carl had pulled aside the grate when I heard Robyn.
“Please take my depression and the way I hurt my hearthmates and myself!”
“Burn it!” someone yelled. Then others took up the call and it became a chant. “Burn it! Burn it! Burn it!” When the two guys carefully positioned the log on the fire and the flames started licking up around it, there was a cheer. For a long time, we all just stood there in silence as the fire roared in the fireplace. It was expurgating. I tapped my glass and people started to turn back to me.
“I didn’t expect that,” I said wiping my eyes. “Let’s make sure that we keep that fire going until there is nothing left of that log but ash. We’re going to have a toast next so you might want something in your glasses. I know there are some bottles of bubbly for those who want some and sparkling juices if you prefer.” There was a general movement to get glasses and I heard several pops as corks came out of bottles. I already had my glass so I just stayed nearby and watched until it looked like everyone was ready. I tapped the glass again. Nikki and Elaine joined me. Nikki had done most of the writing, but I knew Elaine was more than a performer and had contributed to the content as well. And the fact that Nikki was going to help perform made me proud of my anarchist.
“The second thing I found was that the winter holiday was a time of remembrance. It’s always been when people gather around and tell stories. Some of our Christmas songs even have lines about telling stories of long, long ago. But this gives us a chance to remember all the good things that happened this year. A chance to share our memories and laugh with each other. It’s what makes the Yule log bright.” I raised my glass as Nikki and Elaine stepped forward with theirs raised high. Soon everyone in the room had a glass raised. The two girls shot the lines back and forth with the speed of one of Elaine’s monologues or Nikki’s poems.
Here’s to the good things that happened this year.
To friends and family and times of good cheer.
To classes we passed and lessons we learned.
To success and all the money earned.
To thinking up lines and lining up guests.
Here’s to the feathers that line our nests.
To one baby born and others’ first steps,
And mothers who feed them with fabulous breasts!
To food and shelter and warm summer air.
Here’s to lovers who are willing to share!
Here’s to awards and Charles Knight’s show.
To horses and saddles and trails we know.
Here’s to our hearthmates, our casas, and clan.
To the ranch and the forest and the village plan.
Here’s to our families and lovers in love.
In fact, here’s to love. And love. And love.
There was another cheer and glasses clinked all around. I heard a repeat of the line ‘to love’ and several people adding their own memories of the past year. Rose came to join me on the platform. She kissed me soundly. There was another clinking of glasses and ‘cheers!’
“I love having mistletoe over the podium,” Rose laughed. I looked up but didn’t see anything. “Well, actually, I’m wearing it in my hair,” she continued. “I love this time of year and especially the next part of what we’re going to do tonight. It’s adoption time!” Everyone yelled. “We are making some new kinds of adoption, too. This is really going to be interesting. First, we have clan adoptions. We want to welcome Maggie and Jason to the Clan of the Heart. Come here and let us tie new white belts on you, even though we aren’t wearing gis tonight.” Actually, I noted that even without gis, we were all wearing our house, clan, and tribe belts. Our two new adoptees came up so Rose and I could officially welcome them to the clan. Maggie came to me and Jason to Rose for a very hot kiss. We were both flushed when we started to talk again.
“Now, something we haven’t had in quite a while,” Rose said. “A casa adoption. Theresa and Larry?” Our wranglers came to the platform with baby Ellie.
“As you can imagine, we’re a little unsure of how to go about this,” Larry said. “A year and a half ago, we were adopted into the Clan of the Heart and became the ranch managers—a ranch that has gotten bigger over the past year. We created Casa de los Caballos thinking that it would only ever have Theresa and me and our children. But we’ve become very close to another clan member this year. She’s at our house almost every day, helping Theresa and discussing their common interest in herbal medicine.”
“It became pretty obvious to me, at first, and then to Larry, that we wanted her to live with us. Partly because she’s a great babysitter. We’d like to tell you all that we’re working on getting another foal on the ground,” Theresa said. There was some clinking of glasses and a toast. “She’s become so much more than a babysitter, and now we’d like to officially introduce you to one of the women who helped deliver Eleanor, our compañera and new hearthmate, Dawn!” Dawn rushed up to hug both Larry and Theresa and take Ellie into her arms as Theresa tied a new beige belt around Dawn’s waist and removed the white belt. Everyone applauded.
“Now we’d like to invite Hayden, Marilyn, and Anna up here,” Rose said. “These three were the first to be universally called Mama and Papa by our fledgling group before some of us were even in high school. Marilyn-Mom?” Mom, Dad, and Anna came up on the platform.
“I love having all our kids here and having all of them call me Mom or Mama,” Mom said. “And I didn’t even have to go through labor! I hope that none of you feel that having your child call another woman Mama or another man Papa in any way lessens your importance in his or her life. We are all in this together and we’re glad to be able to support each other—especially as our kids get older and more independent.”
“When Rose first called us the tribe of elders, we really didn’t have much in common other than that our children were dating each other,” Dad said. “They had an agreement and we created a calling tree so they would always have someone to call in an emergency. It gave us a starting point to become friends. And, I’m happy to say, sometimes lovers.” Anna hugged Mom and Dad. “We just assumed that the parents of everyone who was in the clan were members of the tribe. But we found there were some who didn’t want that honor. There are some who have even separated themselves from their children, intentionally or inadvertently. And it was not fair to them or their children to assume they were equally members of the tribe. Nor to the rest of us. There are also some who, even though they have a relationship with their children, don’t really see any connection to the parents of the others. So, we acknowledge first that there are parents who are not part of our greater tribe.”
That must have been hard to swallow for Dad. He always wanted to check with every parent. But even he had run into problems dealing with Robyn’s and Kevin’s parents. Neither Warren’s nor Adam’s parents would have anything to do with them. Jessica… well, she’d not allowed herself to be adopted into the clan, so I guess her estrangement from her parents was outside what Dad was talking about.
“We also recognized that there were some very important people to this group who weren’t directly parents of any of them,” Anna picked up. “Yet they are as integral to us as our own families. We decided that there needed to be a direct and explicit adoption of those people into the tribe. And we couldn’t do that without actually naming the tribe.” I wondered how they’d managed that. It seemed we’d just fallen into the concept of a clan name. This had to be a lot more difficult. “We’d like to officially recognize each other with gray belts as the Tribe of Delight. You can think of that as one word or two. We are the tribe of the light represented in the burning of the Yule log, or as the tribe that is delighted with the way these young men and women of the Clan of the Heart have turned out.” There was a round of applause. That was pretty cool.
“So now that we have a tribal name,” Dad said, “we’d like to make some formal adoptions into the tribe in addition to those of us who are parents of clan members. We’d like to formally adopt Marshall and Martha Jacobs, Del and Maribelle Swanson, Cam and Patsy Jones, Bill Williams, Amy Ward, Jessica Barnes, Bart, Sylvia, Deborah, and Dorothy Wood.” I’d expected the Jabobses and the Swansons. I was pleased that Elaine’s brother was adopted and Mary’s brother. I was surprised and delighted at the adoption of Amy, Jessica, and the Woods. They all came up and got their new gray belts and hugs from our parents.
The log was beginning to burn down and all the survival kits had been distributed when I stood back up on the podium and clinked my glass again. There had been a lot of food consumed and probably too much alcohol, though I wasn’t too worried about that since we had plenty of drivers in the clan lined up to take parents to their hotels. But now was the time for the last bit of ritual for the night before people took off.
“I discovered something else about Yule that goes back into our primeval past,” I said. “The lengthening of days brings hope with it. Even though, by the almanac, the hardest part of winter is January and February, we are borne through it by the hope of the returning sun. So, it is not at all strange that people look at this season with hope for the future. That’s why we make New Year’s resolutions. We hope we can live up to this before the next Yule celebration. It’s more than hope to survive for another day, to get up in the morning, or to pass that next tough exam. This is the time to recognize our dreams and aspirations—to put them before the world and gather each other’s support. We’re going to turn out the lights for a minute so the only light will be from the fireplace as our Yule log has nearly disintegrated. I want you all to know that volunteers have committed to keeping the fire going all night to be sure that the log burns thoroughly. In the darkness, waiting for the light, let us offer up our hopes and dreams for the coming year.”
Hannah had all the lights in the house coordinated by her control board and the room went very dark and very still. Even the lights on the tree were out. After a minute of silence, Elaine’s voice rang out, soon joined by Jessica in harmony. It took only two lines for everyone to join in.
Silent night. Holy night.
All is calm. All is bright…
A single light came on at the top of the tree. As Hannah manipulated the board, gradually more and more lights lit on the tree. Not the colored Christmas lights that had been lit all night, but tiny white lights. They were called Italian lights and we’d found strands of five hundred. At least ten strands illuminated the tree.
As the final strains of the old Christmas carol died out, thousands of lights shone on the smiles and tears of our clan and our tribe.
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