6/4/06 Anne Cushwa

Sunrise came in a warm golden glow, sparked with orange and pink highlights. In the car, birds flew around, above, between, all around me, the trees, the road. The feathered sentinels were my companions as I made my way to join my fellow artists and healers at the lake.

My comrades and I embraced, happy to be reunited and for such an event. Plans were made, paper was prepared, and we spoke of our intentions for the offerings to come. To bridge the oceans, to heal old wounds, to create a harmonious vision for a peaceful future, we made the paper boats ready to be filled with elements from the new and old worlds. The gifts of the new world, corn, tomatoes, cocoa, and coca united with the gifts of the old world.

The mandala took the form of a medicine wheel, the cardinal directions marked with ears of corn. The juice of a beet was added to the sugar; the crimson paste glittered on the sand in the southwest, ringed with beet slices and pulp. The black ashes from our sacred fire presided in the northwest, while the yellow corn meal was bountiful in the northeast. The southeast was filled with oats, and the quichi was marked with four white peony petals filled with cocoa and silver sparkling balls.

Friends came with offerings of red astromeria, and these were used to connect the cardinal corn with the ring of the medicine wheel.

Eleven boats filled by eleven women. Slices of orange, beet, and tomato were added, along with coca, cocoa, corn meal, tobacco, beet seeds, the red flowers, herbs, and white fluff from flowering trees nearby. An array of sugary treats included multi-colored stars, sprinkles, glittery sugar crystals, and the shiny silver balls. Once filled, the boats were laid at the cardinal and inter-cardinal directions on the rim of the medicine wheel mandala.

Other friends brought a picnic to share, and while the boats waited patiently soaking up the energies of the sun, wind, land, and sacred earth offering, we ate, talked, and laughed.

Finally, we were ready to enter the water and launch our flotilla of offerings. Six women and eleven boats walked into the chilly lake. We nearly reached the sand bar, and then we released the boats to the water. A final blow of a prayer, and we watched as the vessels sailed into the lake.

The blue water was especially blue, the wind strong enough to create waves that carried the boats, revealing and obscuring our vision of them. The red flowers were intermittently visible as the boats made their way across the water, some to the next beach, others out into the lake. We watched with joy as the bathers at the next beach first noticed the strange vessels coming their way. These swimmers helped the boats' journey continue, as they pushed the water so that the boats would remain afloat and at sea.

My heart swelled at the beauty of the boats on the water, of our little group amassed in the water and on the shore, of the individuals who assisted the boats' progress in the lake.

We waded back to shore and walked to the pier to continue to watch the offerings as they floated away. The boats were seaworthy vessels, seemingly unsinkable, and we watched them until they disappeared finally from our view, far away from us and the shore.

Leaving the pier, we returned to the mandala, still glistening in the sunshine. A mother and son approached to ask about our offerings, and we shared our intentions and flowers with them. The boy's name was Jack, and he was given a flower from the west, the place of the heart, from our hearts to his. In response, he returned the flower to the west, from his heart to the heart of the offering.

Prayers were made and answered. The water received her offerings with a joyful spirit. The mandala was left to hold space on the beach and delight the wondering passersby. The offerings were complete.

The half moon guided me home at midnight. My heart sang.