The Path of the Feather

In 1994, I had the opportunity to invite High Star, a well-respected spiritual leader of the Rosebud, Lakota Indian Nation, to speak and do a blessing for our spiritual community. People dressed like wannabe Indians gathered outside to participate in the ground blessing before High Star's talk. One man dressed in a leather jacket with beads and held a wooden staff. I saw others point and say, "I bet that's him!"

Five minutes before the blessing began, a lovely lady skidded a car with High Star inside into the parking lot. High Star, wearing jeans, a ribbon shirt, and Nike tennis shoes, stepped from the car. His long hair distinguished him as a joy-filled Native American leader; this man was full of charisma and presence. He taught Taoism around the world because he had discovered the ancient wisdom gave him patterns of nature. These were the same patterns in nature that his grandfathers had taught him. They were the magical messages of the ancient people.

After his presentation, I asked if I could study Taoism with him. He paused and then asked me to go away for the summer and pray about this. If it was right for me to study with him, I'd receive a sign. I said I'd be glad to pray about it. I took him back to the airport and thanked him.

During my drive back home, I found my rational mind on tilt while trying to figure out what the sign might be — or what he even meant by a sign. Every day I took it into my spiritual practice, praying for my highest path to be revealed to me.

That summer, I defied my husband's wishes and purchased a beautiful aspen grove on some mountain property. I felt I had purchased a piece of heaven. The land became my sanctuary, and during the summer, I traveled there every week on my day off. I called this sacred place Tall Trees. There was the fragrance of aspen bark, the sweetness of wild flowers. The aspens stood as white candles erected to the heavens.

I usually went late at night after teaching a class, and I drove by myself in my old, yellow Toyota pickup. I would carefully walk up the road and enter my tepee, which I had placed on the land; it was my castle in the woods. I remember how magical the tepee was during a full moon, and the tall aspens quaking in the night became a kaleidoscope, reflecting the flow of the full moon onto the tepee. The mountain meadows, aspens, and snow-topped mountains were my salvation, my place of retreat.

There was no cabin at Tall Trees, just an old porch someone had attempted to build. While I was removing a pile of fallen aspen leaves from the half-built porch, I uncovered a perfect, beautiful raven feather. I was in awe at the discovery. My rational mind said, How in the world could this raven feather be tucked away so perfectly under moldy leaves? I felt a shiver down my spine, and I could hear in my mind, "If you receive a sign, contact me."

Wow! Could this be the sign that I was supposed to study with High Star?

I held up the feather and saw the light touching the majestic alignment of each fiber on the feather. The feather was inviting me to trust the flight that my soul was about to experience. I didn't realize there would be a day in the future when I'd be called to dance with eagle feathers attached to my arms, giving thanks to creation for its magic!

Tom Cowan wrote,

Some people know from their earliest days that they are called to lead a more intense spiritual life than their peers. This inner knowing may come from dreams or from an abiding sense that helping spirits are present and active in one's life, or from a strong desire to serve the community as a healer or wise one.

I carefully placed the raven feather on the dashboard of my faithful, yellow Toyota pickup and traveled back to the city. My mind was still filled with awe. I knew I could humbly behold the path of the feather within my heart. I placed the feather carefully on my personal altar when I got home and continued to contemplate the enormity of the invitation to study with High Star.

The next morning, I placed a phone call to High Star to arrange a date to meet with him.

There wasn't a lot of logic to explain my five-hour drive to New Mexico. I crested a mountain pass and drove down into the rust-colored rolling hills, trusting every turn was a letting go and a sense of adventure. I soon understood that the rational mind played tricks on us, and I had to trust a deeper mind.

High Star's home was warm and inviting, just like his smile and corny sense of humor. Friends familiar with Native American traditions told me to offer tobacco to High Star as I approached him. I offered him my package of Prince Albert tobacco. He sat and loaded his prayer pipe with tobacco. The smoke spiraled upward as he softly sang and prayed. The smoke from his pipe was the visible breath of the Creator. I found this to be sacred and amazing. I sat beside him and thought, What if he doesn't accept me as a student? My ego was intimidated by the stillness that seemed to last forever. This wasn't like the world I was accustomed to where I'd sign on the dotted line in five minutes or less and receive a ticket.

Piercing the silence, he said, "I want you to fast for a week, and I'll take you as one of my students of Taoism." He looked into my eyes and continued. "I'm inviting you to attend this summer's Sun Dance as a supporter."

He gave to me the name of a lady who would teach me what I needed to know about how a woman entered the Sun Dance experience. I thanked him, popped back into my old truck, and headed home. In future moments of contemplation, I had no idea of the enormity of the invitation. High Star's invitation to be a prayer supporter at Sun Dance came as a surprise. How did he know I held a sincere interest in the ancient ways of the Native Americans?

When I arrived home, I went into the bedroom, laid my head on my pillow, and gave thanks for the magic appearance of the raven feather and the special invitation I had received. I was glowing with gratefulness, knowing the...