I had a dream last night, a room full of people brought together to unite against some common enemy. It was never made clear what the enemy was, but we were representatives of dispersed communities dressed in fur and leather like a scene from the Game of Thrones.
The leaders of the group stood at the front of the room and addressed us all and finally asked loudly and rhetorically, “Are any of you warriors?!” Many put their hands up, but were silent. “Are any of you shaman?!” he yelled. And there was only silence. “Are any of you shaman?!”
I looked around the room of blank faces and stood up hesitantly, feeling a strength slowly growing into a guttural yell, my arms outstretched to the air. The room erupted in war cries and cheering and I woke up.
This morning I went out and held some dirt in my hands and prayed, and standing in the sun a few tears ran down my cheeks. There’s something these days that is out of place, and I feel like it’s important to figure it out.