Page 78 - Dark Matter:Women Witnessing Issue2

To know oneself kin is to share an intimacy that is personable, right-­‐ sized, where the other, whatever

its form, in life or in death, is its own singular being. I want to say that this intimacy, this kindred-­‐ness,

this being called into relationship and keeping company with, is the space of witnessing.

Another story: In 2009 I went on a vision quest on Mount Shasta at 6000 feet. I was allowed only a

tarp and a sleeping bag and water from the mountain’s spring. I chose to set up camp in the hollow of

a cluster of trees where the slope of the mountain had evened enough for my body to lay flat. I froze

the first night. The second night I found myself cold again as the sun lowered in the sky. I slipped into

my sleeping bag to keep warm, thinking it a shame that I would have to spend the whole evening

bundled up like this.

My face was level with the edge of the forest and my gaze level with a very long dead tree trunk lying

in the clearing between forest and my camp. As I thought my despondent thoughts about the cold, a

ground squirrel darted out of the woods into the clearing. The little creature leapt onto the fallen tree

and, settling into a sunny spot, rounded and stretched its furry back precisely to the setting sun,

soaking in the last rays. We locked eyes. A flash of understanding washed over me. To keep warm I

was to pile on my clothes and round my back to the sun in the warmest spot I could find on the slope,

just as my little friend was showing me to do. I put on all the clothes I had, found a sunny spot of my

own, and, rounding my back, I soaked in the warmth of the sun until it went down. And that evening I

wasn’t cold, or the next.

I had other encounters with ground squirrels the four days of the vision quest. Each time they

communicated something of vital importance to my well being. To listen I had to trust the flash of

understanding that washed over me and take their actions at face value. I had to be willing to mimic

them. A ground squirrel hanging out with me at the mountain spring two days in a row when I refilled

my water gourds warned me one afternoon of the impending arrival of a group of rambunctious male

hikers by scurrying away after catching my gaze as the squirrel on the log had. I too scurried away, just

in time to avoid their loud and jarring arrival at the spring and noisy joking about conquering the

summit. I was filled with humble gratitude and a feeling of solidarity with these Earth Others who had

shown themselves to be in solidarity with me.