Description:

Like many sacred sites, the land often demands that one be present and focused to enter. Wright's Field is on an incline and can only be approached by foot, signaling a certain level of commitment to all who enter. At the top of the incline, participants were greeted, welcomed and given 2 items; a blindfold and a colored ribbon. All were encouraged to write a prayer, memorial, or wish, on the colored ribbon and were told that this ribbon could later be woven into our collective experience.

A few steps past a gateway of gold and red fabric were two metal bells. Participants were invited to ring these temple bells to signify their presence on the land - and their presence within themselves. A bit further on the path was a wind wheel where their prayer ribbons were fastened. The simple act of fastening the ribbons offered the prayers, memories and hopes, to the Sky Father.

As the rocky path guided us closer to the installation, the path provided opportunities for us to remain mindful of each step we take on the earth. Here we placed a wooden barrel and a ladle. At this point, visitors were invited to make an offering to the earth; symbolically and tangibly, they were able to give something back to the earth mother who continues to nurture all of us from cradle to grave.

Slightly before sunset, we gathered as a group. Everyone was thanked for participating and I invited all present to put on their blindfold for five minutes and to listen, in stillness, to the sounds all around us. When the conch shell was sounded, we removed our blindfolds and dancers came out from their hiding places. In much the same way that the desert and forest come to life at night, we transitioned from stillness to action as our ritual offerings blossomed.

Using objects fabricated from natural and man-made materials, we co-created sounds that lead us into our personal and collective experience.  Steven Garcia's hand-carved wooden flute music guided the performers, who moved gracefully across the field. As dusk gave way to night under the patient eye of the moon, the dancers activated the lights that painted everything seen, unseen, and imagined with fleeting life and intentional light.

As the dancers melted back into the trees that first hid them, we were left to experience the moving luminous energy which brought us all together.  With in the beauty of the nature, we were able to enter a special part of our world as we allowed our thoughts to flow across the uneven landscape unimpeded by interruptions of buildings, roads, or the handiwork of man; if only for a moment we were as free as our birthright made us.

When the performers approached for their bows, the applause transitioned us back to a world that was not quite the same. Changed, because we were no longer the same.  I have never been with a group of people more still, more focused in the moment than that evening, and it is a memory I will long treasure.  As everyone made their way through the darkened paths back to their cars with flashlights in hand, my heart overflowed with gratitude.  Following the path back to day-to-day lives, I hoped that a new appreciation for the transformative power of the natural landscape, the philosopher's stone of silence, and gratitude for the moment, would live on far past this special evening.