Vision Quest reflection, September 2020
This September, I completed my second Vision Quest. For those of you who have never heard of a Vision Quest, it's a four-day-four-night solo bush "meditation", originating from Indigenous American practices but found across Indigenous societies throughout the world. Imagine Bear Grylls meets Alice in Wonderland. You're restricted to a designed 4x4 area, alone deep in the bush. Participants are to bring only water, tarpaulin, rope, mozzie net, sleeping gear and a few medical and clothing items. As the name implies, participants receive visions, whether they are personalised visions based on any number of questions brought to the quest space, or a Grand Vision, an image of each person’s purpose and contribution to the greater Web of Life.
When I tell people about Vision Quest, they typically focus on the no food element. For many, the idea of not eating for four days is incomprehensible. What most people don't typically appreciate is the real challenge–turning inwards and facing yourself. The absence of time, distractions and our usual comforts amplify the deep disquiet within, bringing it to the surface. The natural world acts as a mirror to our inner world, providing insights through events, symbols, and visual and auditory experiences.
For me the breath became a vital tool through my Quest experience. It enhanced my presence through periodic breathwork cycles. I always returned to the breath to find my centre whenever the mental, physical and emotional energy became too much. The breath, in partnership with Nature and dancing, supported me throughout the 94 hours of solo journeying.
A Vision Quest is a rite of passage, and a crucial part of that passage is a death; the death of a part of yourself that shrouds the soul and blocks you from your wholeness. Without this death, your soul is unable to manifest into its entirety, and you are unable to embody the full potential made available through your unique gift or Genius. In traditional Indigenous communities, it is considered vital that each person undergoes this rite of passage because of the dangers of having a ‘half-person’ (someone who has not encountered their soul) live within the community.
During my Quest, it was hard not to draw the connection between the individual’s rite of passage and the passage being experienced by humanity at this point in time. Collectively, we’ve been separated from our ordinary or mundane reality and have transitioned into a liminal space. Our egoic minds are jolted out of their modus operandi, bringing forth waves of personal and collective reactions and discomforts. Subsequently people are seeking purpose and meaning.
Although our egoic minds are disoriented, our souls know what journey lies ahead–they’ve been here before. As the foundations of the known world shake and crumble, our souls will call upon us to face our shadows, allow what is not in resonance to die and to embody the deeper wisdom of our soul. To allow this to happen, we must simply trust, be active participants in our healing process, commune with Nature, find support through communitas and most importantly, breathe.