Saturday, April 11, 2009


There are indigenous tribes of the 21st century; roaming the world like wild things in the wood, tending to the sidewalks of the crossroads and winking back at electric eyed gods as they drive past, beating internal combustion hearts. Openers and closers, warriors and chiefs. Speaking the hidden names of new powers, they go forth into the future through the door of their own pain and insecurities. When they emerge again, as whole people, this world responds to their touch. Sharing its own visions of change with these new priests and oracles of a frenetic, newborn century.

Men are awakening to old truths. They begin to take the first, stumbling steps toward the power within, instead of perpetuating the myth of power over. Women, at long last, are beginning to take up their sacred duties as proprietors of that infamously first of professions: priestessing.

The Tribes are gathering. City streets teem with shaman dancing the world awake. The primal echos of drums, techno, Renaissance flute and electric guitars serve as their clarion calls. "The world awoke us, that we may wake the world," is all they will say if asked. This is part of their Mystery. The packs are running again, shifters bringing luck to the streets of the forests and paths of the cities alike. New prophets of Christ are arisen, preaching another way, instead of a better way. Honoring the words and deeds of a simple man, in simple ways. Daring to speak the true Name of God.

This is the map of the 21st century, and the Tribes are gathering. No more will this world operate by the applied consent of sleepwalkers. Now it will be directed by individuals manifesting change and care for our planet. We are such awakened, the first tribe, moving in the world again, awake in this century.

Stories abound about the Ursa Tribe, The Bear Ones...

Ainshe Ursa, who shook the island to prove her sovereignty, and stilled it again, with a gesture. Becca Ursa, who fought the Dark and lost, but won her power from it nonetheless. Roan Ursa, who walked out of the world one day and never quite came home again. Eth Ursa, who strode forward into the unknown, and nearly lost herself. Who returned stronger, and stranger from the hidden places of the world.

Folk perpetuating consequences across the fabric of reality at the behest of the gods of the new world. For, alone among the tribes of the earth, only the first tribe is privileged to weave the future from the spun out possibilities which exist between. And nor can that be our only goal. Our ultimate effect must be to guide through journey work, rigorous honesty and ordeal a next generation of tribes and shaman to take up the role of weavers alongside. Only then can we call ourselves wise.

Only then will it be true.


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