Fire Tribe Gathering

Spring Equinox 2002

A review by Tara Severns

The Gathering was originally to be held, in part, on the set of Fantasy Island on a small speck of the large piece of land controlled by the entity of Kualoa Ranch. A month before the Gathering, Hollywood arrived to tear Fantasy Island down and begin construction on Jungle Africa, and we got shifted off to an adjacent parcel, "Molii Gardens". Three days out, Hollywood appropriated that space for parking and their make-up tent. So our whole group was ferried out across the huge ancient Hawaiian Molii fishpond to "Secret Island" on a barge-like boat.

The "island" was amazingly ideal. Not an island at all, but a rather large sandbar peninsula accessible from either side at low tide.On one side, we had the view of the pond and the Koolaus. On the other was a lovely view of Kaneohe Bay. The trees provided great shade for daytime napping. Throughout the center of island there were wonderful paths cut through the hau tangles where I expected the Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, to come whiffling through the tulgey wood at any moment. The only critters though I saw in the wood, though, were birds and the occasional mongoose.

Those of us who arrived early got to work setting up our nests and began creating the fire circle. Boatloads of folks began arriving on the hour later that afternoon.

We had a nice potluck dinner, and I met some cool people and caught up with some old friends. We held an orientation session and soon lit the fire. Energy was high, and everything seemed perfect. The circle was, perhaps prematurely, drawn to a close at around 2:00 am.

I woke near dawn and walked out onto the beach. There were folks doing yoga and tai chi further down, and the sound of the water was nice. The day was full with workshops, more site preparation, and with greeting a few more people arriving on the boat with our breakfast and our lunch. At some point I managed to snooze lightly for about 45 minutes in the sun on the beach. Amber brought mask making supplies, and I decorated one for myself, trying to do so with the same excited abandon the kids around me were modeling. I could learn a lot from them!

That night folks assembled on the beach for a procession to the circle. As people arrived at the gate to be smudged and to file into the circle, Jesse, Michael and I played a trippy bell piece in six that knocked me into a trance I couldn't quite snap out of. I managed to call in the North quarter somehow, but forgot the words and melody to the song I was to sing, and then spaced that I'd been asked to provide a heartbeat on a drum for the next chant. After an hour or so, I retreated to sleep for a little while.

When I grogged over to the fire again, everyone present seemed to be overburdened by gravity, and there was a strong pull toward stillness. The drumming stumbled along like a half hearted drizzle. Movement ceased and the drumming became sparser and increasingly disconnected. The moment begged for silence, but the wood blocks continued to cricket as people sat down around the fire and began channeling. It was weird, but apparently not unusual. This state of altered energies is well known to manifest in the hours before dawn at fire circles, and I had seen happen at Firedance and at our first Fire Tribe Gathering.

After a while, movement returned to the circle with some chanting and drumming. I put on my mask, but didn't feel like wearing it. I drifted between the drums and the dance track, but it didn't seem like I belonged in either place. Feeling lost and raw, I went into the healing nest nearby where my back was massaged while tears connected to nothing leaked out all over my face. I felt more like myself again when I returned to the circle and finally, the horizon began to get almost imperceptibly lighter and the energy level picked up. Without ceremony, the sun rose out of the ocean. Beautiful. A rain began moments later.

The rest of the day was spent sharing food, sharing conversation, soaking in the beauty, and just connecting as a community. Unfortunately, it was also the day to leave. We packed everything up and set off back across the fishpond and into Spring.

Text: ©2002 Tara Severns. Photos: ©2002 Peter Sprenkle.