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How the Hopi Create Their
World
By
Keith Varnum
God gives food to every bird, but does
not throw it into the nest.
- Montenegrin Proverb
“Do
you hear that?” I whispered to my friend Tobias.
“No,
what?” he answered under his breath.
“Drumming.
The sound of soft, distant drumming.”
“No,
but I see a faint glow over there by the cliff. Like a small fire. A
vague, flickering light cast against the rock face.”
My friend Tobias and I love to explore old Indian ruins in
Arizona’s desert canyons and mesas.
Our favorite ones are the secluded, out-of-the-way remains not
normally visited by other people. These remnants of a bygone
civilization are quiet, dreamy and somewhat desolate. Many of the aged,
abandoned fortresses and homes are over a thousand years old. These
timeworn vestiges of ancestral life are extremely serene—and mystical.
When Tobias and I sit and meditate within their eroded walls, we often
see a dim, blurry campfire, or hear subtle, muffled, elusive drumming,
chanting or the sound of children playing. Experiencing visual and
auditory glimpses of the distant past is enthralling to us and serves to
heighten our interest in learning more about the ancient ones who lived
in the American Southwest so long ago.
One day,
while exploring a windy, arid, remote mesa in the high northern desert
of Arizona, Tobias and I happened upon an Anazazi Indian ruin with
several partial dwellings still standing. The crumbling abodes were
awash in relics of antiquity. Delighted to find a site that obviously
hadn’t received many visitors over the years, we dropped to our hands
and knees, and sifted through the dirt for artifacts to help us
understand the long-departed residents. Our efforts were rewarded with
arrowheads, pottery shards and corncobs preserved by the extreme
dryness.
In the center of this native village is
a large oval pit about sixty feet wide. Surrounded by a wall of very
carefully fitted slate stones, the pit sinks approximately five feet
into the ground. This submerged ring of stones is called a kiva by
Native Americans.
The
structure served as a ceremonial circle for Indian rituals. Spellbound
by the aura and electricity we sensed within the ceremonial pit,
Tobias and I speculated about its history. As we sat on the sun-warmed
stones in the kiva, we longed to know the specific nature and focus of
the ancient rituals conducted by the Anazazi Indians so long ago.
The absolute
quiet and serenity of the kiva reminded me of a psychology
experiment I read about in college. The research project revealed
a fascinating quality inherent in a vacuum. Relaxing in the
ominous silence of the kiva, I related the experiment to my fellow
explorer.
Scientists
set up a near vacuum in a completely empty room. Installed in this vacuum-sealed room were a speaker and a listening
device. From outside the room, one of the researchers spoke distinctly
one secret word, known only to him, through the speaker
into the room. The chamber was then locked and sealed for five
years. At the end of the five years, the scientists returned. From
outside the room, they turned on the highly
sophisticated sound sensing equipment to listen to whatever they could hear
from inside the room. The
device picked up the secret word spoken
into the vacuum five years earlier! The sound vibration of
the word was still alive and detectable within that
environment after five years.
The kiva was almost as still and empty as I imagined a
vacuum to be. It was the kind of quiet
that absorbs every sound. Even
the intermittent whistling of
the wind was consumed by the all-prevailing silence.
Sitting in this timeless place, we
allowed the tranquility to envelop us. I sensed the space around us had
been this serene for the last thousand years. That’s when the notion
came to me:
Was it possible that
whatever happened in the kiva a millennium ago still exists on some
subtle, vibrational level, just like the sound of the spoken word in the
scientists’ vacuum? And, like the word, is that vibration accessible
and perceivable now?
What an exciting
concept! I turned to Tobias to share my proposal, “Maybe we could contact
whatever occurred in this kiva long ago. Perhaps even hear part of a
ceremony.”
Tobias caught my enthusiasm. Blond,
blue-eyed and innocent, Tobias had the adventurous curiosity of his
Norse forebears. He was as anxious as
I to see if such a feat was possible. We were flush with
excitement. We were on a mission to connect with the kindred souls who
had preceded us on the planet!
We decided to
sit quietly inside the circle and open ourselves to sensing any
vibrations remaining from previous activities in the kiva. The most we
expected was something along the lines of what we’d experienced
before—a faint vision, a vague mumbling, or, if extremely fortunate, a
hazy, dreamlike apparition.
After about half an hour, neither of us had picked up any
sound or sighting. Then suddenly, to our right sat a Native American
Indian—in the flesh! I tentatively reached over lightly touching him
to make sure he was real. I was taken aback by my discovery. “Yes,” I nodded to Tobias, “the man is a solid, physical human
being. He’s not a phantom!”
The stoic Indian sat cross-legged on the bare ground. A
hundred canyon-like lines etched his
noble, bronze face. He looked ancient, and very sweet and gentle.
His soft eyes, quietly smiling, were
so penetrating I kept losing myself in his calm, accepting gaze.
A
reverent silence engulfed the three of us for a very long
while. Finally the Indian elder smiled and stated, “You’d like to
know the purpose for which we used this ceremonial circle. Is that not
right?”
We
had not expected a living tour guide and eagerly bobbed our heads up and
down to indicate “yes”—a thousand times “yes!” He
nodded, took a long, quiet breath and began our lesson in creating
abundance:
“Many,
many moons ago, when the antelope ran free, the buffalo grazed across
all the land, and my brothers and sisters lived in harmony with each
other and Mother Earth, we would meet in this circle every fall for the
most important ceremony of the whole year. This most sacred, vital
ritual was attended by the chief of the tribe, the medicine man, the
tribe elders and all of those who had achieved the status of a brave—the hunters
of the tribe. After many days of purification through chanting, drumming
and praying in our sweat lodges, we sat around this circle in silence
and waited until the Great Spirit honored us with a vision.
“Then, one by one, each brave would see and feel the
specific animals they would kill and bring to the village as food
for the tribe in the coming year. Each animal’s spirit made an
agreement with the warrior who would be killing the animal. For
a period of time, their spirits would commune in the beauty and
harmony of their shared intention. In this time-honored way, the warrior
would connect with each bison, antelope and deer that he would be
providing for the tribe. When his vision was complete, the brave
announced to the rest of the group what he had seen and experienced.”
At
this point, the Indian took a full breath and said in a very deliberate
manner:
“And on this day, the entire year’s food supply for the
tribe was created.”
He
stared at us closely to see if we heard his last statement.
Satisfied, he continued:
“Each
warrior waited until he saw, greeted and came to a mutual understanding
with the spirit of each buffalo, antelope and deer before announcing to
the circle, ‘I will bring so many buffalo, antelope and deer to the
tribe in the coming year.’ And so it went until, one by one, each
brave met the spirit of each animal that would come to him to be killed
in the next year. One by one, each warrior announced the food they would
provide to the tribe in the coming year.”
Again, the venerable, timeworn storyteller paused. With
great passion, he looked directly into our eyes—first mine, then
Tobias’. I have never felt such a
piercing gaze. His look penetrated the depths of my soul. Dramatically, he drew air into his lungs. Repeating his
message, he declared:
“And
on this day, the entire year’s food supply for the tribe was
created.”
Once
again, he waited until he sensed that the import of his words was fully
absorbed before resuming:
“After all
the braves had proclaimed the food they would bring for the coming year,
the chief, medicine man and elders would bless the ceremony. All would
leave the kiva knowing that on this day, the entire year’s food supply
for the tribe was created.”
Again, he
waited, watching to see if we were fully digesting his last sentence before speaking again. He continued in a very
emphatic tone:
“In
the winter when the warriors could not go out hunting because there was
a blizzard with snow drifts twenty feet high, the chief, medicine man,
elders and braves would meet again in the kiva and wait in silent,
expectant meditation. Soon, from the wind-swept prairie and the
snow-covered plateaus would come a bison, a deer or an antelope. On its
own, the animal would find its way into the tribal encampment and then
into the kiva circle. The creature would stand in the center of the circle
until it recognized the brave with whom it had made a spirit
agreement. Then the animal would walk over to the warrior, stand right
in front of him, and calmly allow itself to be killed in a very quick
and painless way. The creature gave itself up to the brave, as
previously agreed in the kiva, so that the people would have food during
the harsh, winter months. For, on that special day the previous fall,
the entire year’s food supply for the tribe had been created.”
It
wasn’t until the Indian told us about the animals coming into the
circle in the winter and recognizing the warriors with whom they had an
agreement that Tobias and I finally realized what the Indian was telling
us. And at the exact moment we got the point of the
story, the old man disappeared in front of our eyes. Not
believing our vision, we scanned the kiva quickly, thinking he must have
been a very fast escape artist. It was thirty feet to the edge of the
circle and neither of us saw him leave. He vanished the second we
understood his message!
Driving
back to Phoenix later that day, Tobias and I discussed our shared
encounter at great length. We agreed the Indian was telling us something
far more important than how the Hopi used to create
food for a year. He was opening a gateway for us to understand
how creation itself works.
The message Tobias and I received in the kiva was
simple, yet profound: the power to create lies in the Present, not in
the future. Creation happens now
when declared with power, heart and strong intention.
Then, that which is created in the Present unfolds in future time
and space according to our mutual agreements with the rest of the living
beings of Mother Earth.
***
This
true story is an excerpt from Keith’s book,
Inner
Coach: Outer Power: Forty-eight firsthand
stories reveal the amazing creative powers within you that can heal your
body, expand your heart, and attract phenomenal abundance into your
life. Fresh and captivating, Keith shows you the practical, everyday use
of levitation, alchemy, multi-dimensional travel, near-death
experiences, out-of-body journeys, parallel realities and time-tripping.
Spiritual teachers unveil their secrets to happiness. Ancient shamans
impart how to manifest an easy flow of money. Angels illustrate how to
heal the body instantly. Nature devas share keys to attracting soulmates.
Spirit guides demonstrate how they can save your life in a crisis. Using
his vast exploration as a healer, mystic, acupuncturist, urban shaman,
filmmaker, personal coach, and seminar leader, Keith helps you become a
real Miracle Maker! Available
at bookstores, Amazon.com, or www.TheDream.com
***
Native Traditions of Sedona
Get
answers through Native American Ceremonies:
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vortexes, labyrinths, Indian ruins, cliff dwellings and rock art.
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