The pale moonlight dappled across the cobalt blue bedspread causing its white stars to glow with faint luminosity. A breeze ruffled the curtains framing the open window next to the bed. The sky was clear as I looked out at the stars. Silver tendrils reached down for me and I felt their icy pull on my soul. It is time, they whispered in still voices.

I went to the bathroom and showered, scrubbing my body until it was nearly raw, then shaved totally denuding my body of hair. I stood looking in the full length mirror as water ran in rivulets across my flesh. My lashes looked odd on my face without the brows, but I smiled knowing this was the right thing and the right time. I returned to my room and stood for a moment nude in the light of the full moon. Yes. It was time.

Standing barefoot on the hardwood floor I walked over to my closet and opened the door. The case was yew wood bound in silver, with an unusual bloodstone lock. I touched it tentatively at first, tracing over the ancient patterns in the wood and metal with foreboding, then picked it up and placed it on the bed in a shaft of moonlight.

I hoped my mother would understand my choice. I knew my father would. I followed in his footsteps as I picked my thumb and allowed my blood to fall on the bloodstone. He told me when I was a child that it would only open at the right time and I would only get one chance. If I failed, I would have to pass the case on as he did.

The lock opened. I smiled as nervous shivers trampled my skin and removed the lock from it’s clasp. Now the hard part. The case was unlocked but had yet to be opened. Did I have the nerve? The resolve? Could I do it when the time came?

I traced the eagle carved in the top of the case and recalled the story my grandfather told me about his grandfather’s grandfather’s experience with the Eagle who flies between Mother Earth and the He-Who-Created bringing messages of the gods to man. When he was a young man he went on a spirit quest to discover who he was, into the wild alone. He walked until he found a cliff that felt right to him. Standing near the edge, he quested his spirit out to join that of the universe. When his spirit returned to his body he cried because it was so beautiful to be one with the spirit.

“Mourn not,” a voice came from around him, “you are one part of the spirit of the universe, but there is a problem…” My grandfather always smiled when he thought of the spirit of the universe having a problem. “There is a breaking away of Man from He-Who-Created. They must be woven back together or reality will fade and chaos will reign.”

“How can a lowly human aid the universe?” My ancestor responded.

“Teach your children, every generation, and one will come who will be Spirit Weaver.” The eagle on the case glowed golden as I recalled, then it raised up off the case and flew out the window to the stars. I sat in awe for a moment.

“When Spirit Weaver unlocks the case Eagle will fly.” The words my father spoke when he entrusted the case to my care echoed in my mind.

“How will I know when the time is right?” I had asked him.

“You will know when you think the time is right, but wait until the universe tells you the time is right.”

“How will the universe tell me?” I was eight and still full of questions about things that could not be answered.

“You will know.” Was his final answer and we never spoke on the subject again. I did know. It was unlocked. Now to open it.

“Father, the Eagle has flown.” I whispered as I placed both hands on the case’s top and lifted it up. I don’t know what I expected to see inside.

When I was younger I feared the case. When I learned of Pandora’s Box, I thought of the case as holding all the evil to be released into the world, and hoped I would never have to open it, or I would try at the wrong time. I recalled the night when I actually came in and tried to cut the lock off to break it’s hold over me. The case had survived a house fire when I was fourteen, unblemished. Some of my cousins thought it cursed and at one point in my life so did I, but I was it’s keeper and it’s curse could only effect Spirit Weaver — whoever that was.

The lid eased back on silver hinges. The interior glowed faintly at first, but picked up intensity as the moon and stars seemed to gather in my bedroom. I touched the topmost item, a carved pipe decorated with feathers and beads. Next to it was a pouch of tobac.

I was sitting cross-legged, nude and shaven, on my bed, but when I touched the pipe I felt the earth under me. With shaking hands I opened the tobac pouch, took a pinch and placed it in the lid of the case. Another pinch went into the pipe, the remainder was set reverently next to the case. I closed my eyes and held the pipe.

Smoke waft around me, raw and pungent. I didn’t recognize the scent. I raised the unlit pipe to my lips and drew on it as if it were. Smoke filled my lungs and I held it there, burning, telling me I was not hallucinating. The earth was warm under my buttocks and thighs. The air around me stifling hot and moist. I opened my eyes and beheld the interior of a sweat lodge for the first time ever.

“It is not possible.” I whispered. One of the Elders smiled. I looked at him and passed the pipe on to the man beside me.

“Spirit Weaver, welcome to our reality.” I turned to him. I wanted to deny I was Spirit Weaver, but it must be true. I opened the case. I bowed my head.

“Grandfather’s blessings.” I gave the only Native greeting I knew and he grinned. I flushed and looked at the ground before me and there was the case. I took the pinch of tobac I had placed on the lid and tossed it to the fire. He nodded and the pipe was placed back in my hands.

“Smoke and remember…” I took a deep draw, held the smoke and stared at the flame. Images danced before my eyes of man and He-Who-Created living in harmony. I passed the pipe and pulled another item out of the case.

A turtle rattle. I shook it and somewhere outside my consciousness a drum resounded. The rhythms caught me and I shook the rattle to the beat of the earth.

The Earth is our mother.

The truth resounded through out my being. We are beings of the universe, children of the stars, made of fire, earth, water, spirit, and sky. I danced under the stars, around the fire, and the world watched holding it’s breath. Sweat slickened my body, yet I danced. The drum split into several different rhythms and others joined the dance, all to our own rhythms.

“Spirit Weaver…” The voice of the stars called. I stopped, the others continued dancing, weaving their pattern around me. “You are one with the universe.” One with the universe… This is what it felt like?

“But everything is in discord.” I cried back to the stars. The other dancers were now pushing me back into the fire. They wore masks, and capes, and coverings. I was bare.

“You bring harmony.” Came the whisper from the universe. I stepped into the fire, cried out and a star fell from the sky. It hovered above me for a moment then descended until I could all most touch it.

“Help me.” I called out. It fell to me and I swallowed it. Fire burned within hotter and more fierce than that without and I danced in the flame of humanity.

Weaving in and out through the flame around the other dancers, sometimes in rapport, sometimes in opposition. Their steps united, the drums beat in accord. My heart leapt in joy at the sight and sound and I danced again in the flame of humanity.

The smoke thinned and I could see the Elder on the other side. The pipe was pressed back into my hands, so I lay the rattle down. I drew another lung full of the smoke and exhaled.

“The universe rejoices in your coming.” One Elder spoke quietly. The case drew my attention again. A flint knife lay in a beaded sheath over several small pots of paint. Red, black, blue, yellow, green, white, one for each of the elders in the lodge. I passed them around and kept the knife. One by one they took a color, opened it, and marked their faces and bodies. I stood, my head scraped the hide that made the ceiling and they painted me.

“We each are held responsible for our actions to the seventh generation. You are the last of seven seven’s generations.” There was sadness in his eyes, and joy. “You are the last to be brought to this lodge.”

I felt extreme sadness in that statement. They painted good hunting and peaceful rest on my body. They painted symbols older than time itself for truth and knowledge. I was painted from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. A great fear gripped me as they finished.

Did I dare to complete this ritual that I never heard of?

Did I possess the nerve?

Did I dare to believe?

Was I resolved to do it even if I did not?

One by one the Elders left the lodge leaving me alone with my thoughts. The last placed the pipe in my hands; the rattle, paint pots, and tobac pouch back in the case, laid the lock beside it and smiled.

“He who the Universe gives all is expected to give all back to the Universe.” He left me alone…

I sat by the dying fire of humanity. I knew that’s what it was somewhere deep in my soul, and I prayed. I felt the beat of the earth through my feet and danced to her rhythm, alone. The fire grew seemingly of it’s own accord, and I danced.

Deep in my consciousness I felt the first shoots of a springs growth push through me to the surface, to the light, to life. I felt an arrow pierce my chest and my life’s blood pour into the earth as a hunter took my life thanking my spirit for my sacrifice so that his family might live. Emotion after emotion in all their forms, I experienced. I flew through the skies, ran through the forests, swam in the oceans.
I gasped and drew in a first breath…a babe just born.
Bleated in protest at the cold of a sheep just shorn.
Cried out in joy as I experienced a lover’s first caress.
Stared in wonder as a babe suckled my breast.
I felt satisfaction as I made love to my life partner.
Knelt and prayed at an alter.
I stepped on the moon.
Slept cradled in my mother’s womb.
Stood ground zero, a nuclear bomb exploding above my head.
Lay in a grave, worm riddled, a long time dead.
I hacked and gasped a last breath –
Old and frail, I welcomed death.

“What do you want from me?” I cried out to the universe.

“A star gave up it’s place so that you might unite humanity and revive it’s flame.” A voice whispered in the still around me. “Can you do no less?”

I danced and prayed some more… Could I do no less? Swirling, twirling I recalled humanity… Love, hate, life, death… I had experienced humanity… Loving, hating, living, dying…

“No you haven’t.” The voice came again. I stopped and stared at the flame which now stood as tall as me. Haven’t I?

The flame took shape, forming into the Eagle that flew from the case.

“I am alive!” I called out to it and danced a full circle.

“I have loved.” I recalled my mother and father, the love of family, friends, lovers, while dancing another circuit.

“I have hated.” I recalled the intense emotions connected with hate and those who I had focused those emotions at. I danced another circuit.

“You have not died.”

“My grandfather died… I experienced death through him.”

“You have not died.”

“My brother died, I felt his loss.”

“You have not died.” I stopped dancing and stared at the flame Eagle. The knife in it’s sheath lay next to the case. “You have swallowed a star, danced with the universe, rewoven man and He-Who-Created — but it will all unravel…”

“Unless I am humanity.” He bowed his head, closed his eyes, and nodded.

Fear swept through me like a wild fire. I am Humanity?

I drew a lung full of the still smoking pipe then tamped it out, and placed it back in the case. All that was left out was the knife…

I stared at it. I am Humanity.

I picked it up. As the flint blade bit into the flesh of my forearms I felt the pain of knowing all there was to know. I stood with He-Who-Created and breathed fire into his creations. He gave them life, I gave them humanity. My life force pumped out of my being and the joy of being swept through me along with a profound sadness of loss. To bind man to He-Who-Created Humanity had to fuse them. Joy assailed me at that moment… The moment I slashed my wrists and the pain of knowing fused to the joy of being.

I placed the bloody knife in the case with the other things… All like I found them; closed the lid and put the lock through the clasp. The last was very difficult as my blood made it slick. The lock closed. I looked at the Eagle.

“I am humanity… .” He nodded. I threw back my head, cried out to the universe, and danced.

A breeze ruffled the curtains framing the open window next to the bed. The early morning sun streaked across my face as I opened my eyes to the dawn of a new day.

“Hey sleepy head, time to get up.” My father’s voice proceeded his body into my room. He looked at me and blanched. “Oh, my gawd, what did you do?”

“Huh?” I sat up. The case lay locked between my feet. I was buck naked, shaven, and painted from head to toe.

“Did you try to open the case?” I looked at my wrists. They bore fresh scars and there was blood all over the bed. I looked at my father…how could I explain? I felt an incredible heat in my belly and smiled.

“I tried.” He nodded.

“So who are you going to pass it to?” The words of the Elder echoed in my mind… You are the last to be brought to this lodge.

“I’m not. The case is a relic of seven seven’s generations, an era past. It’s time to move on and face a new world, Pop, and I intend to do it right.” I got up and took a shower. The paint swirled into the tub as I relived the memories of the night before. After I scrubbed, I toweled off and stood in front of the mirror. My lashed really did look funny without the matching brows, but they would grow back.

Three things did concern me though…

First — freshly scabbed over scars on my forearms. I died. I know I did. For Humanity to have experienced it… I must have done it.

Second — a silver star marking above my navel, right were I felt the warmth of the star I swallowed. A part of the universe, gave up his position in the heavens so that Humanity would not have to face death alone. What a concept!!!

Third — the red thunderbird across my shoulders and back that did not wash off. Red, the color of beginnings. The Thunderbird, a symbol of unity between man and He-Who-Created.

These things marked me…

I am Spirit Weaver, keeper of Humanity.