TRJE - A Sacred Hoop

I can’t remember the last time I was so revved up and inspired as I am right now. This past Saturday, February 16th, I attended the Three Rivers Jenbe Ensemble Creative Writing class for the first time. To start things off, everyone sat in a large circle to honor those who have inspired or made an impact on the lives of others. One of the members of TRJE asked permission to drop water on a plant that was placed in the center of the circle. Each drop of water signified the name of a departed individual. This reminded me of a book I read once about Black Elk, an Oglala Sioux medicine man who’s Earth Prayer paid tribute to the Great Spirit and sacred hoop of all things. The sacred hoop signified the sanctified manner of all things in the spirit, peacefully living as one within the hoop. This center of peacefulness creates holiness within the circle. Black Elk believed that “anywhere is the center of the world” and on Saturday, I felt a true connection to those words.
Next, individuals took turns speaking of accomplishments that they had during the past week. Although random, there was a respectful manner in which people took turns speaking. Individuals would raise their hand, stand, say their names and then speak of something positive that happened to them. To me, this identification of oneself each time they spoke signified individuality within a common whole. Each person in the circle was an individual and spoke of personal experiences they had during the week, but the circle was a unit of support made of human components. Each individual person was a significant building block within a banded troupe and what they said made them human and honest.
As I sat on the floor, racking my brain for something somewhat interesting to share, I realized that the most significant part of my week was happening at that very moment. I could have sat and listened to them speak for hours. The innocence and happiness they spoke with collectively created a sense of equality among us. Although the majority of the circle was between the ages of 7 and 17, the experiences they spoke of were relatable on multiple levels and it made me happy to be among them.
The large circle then split and some of us went in one room to work on writing while the others stayed behind to create music. Once again, we made a circle on the floor. As I sat on the wooden floor and looked up at the high ceilings above me, I felt small but great at the same time. The basics of grounding ourselves on the floor created a sense of humbleness in a gigantic universe. While we seemed so small in body, what we were doing together was greater than all of us combined. If I were to look down from the sky at that moment, it would have made me smile to view the circle.
Celestine began the discussion by reading one of her writings. It was beautiful and inspiring. I couldn’t believe the things I heard. She spoke of Imani, an affirmation of faith. It was a poem about the strength she has in her beliefs. While repeating, “I believe,” every few lines, she travelled down a path that began with a Heavenly Father to her parents to herself. It was poignant. I was impressed with not only her recognition of things greater than herself, but her affirmation of it. In a society littered with Paris Hilton types, she stood a young girl with pure guts and immeasurable ability.
Each individual who read their compositions had something different to say and in a unique manner. The creative spirit was energizing and I found myself composing in my head. Finding me on a Saturday within a circle of inspiration brought joy of the purest nature and a small fire has been lit on my path. The last thing I witnessed truly motivated my walk. While individuals were reading their poems, one of the girls wrote a poem and then read it to the circle. It was awe-inspiring and reminded me of myself. I thought of all the papers that lay strewn about my home with random thoughts and small poems on them. I thought of all the thoughts I have written in book margins and notebooks. She reminded me of myself – always composing in my head – a kind of silent turrets where words scream at one another in my mind. She had let her thoughts seep out within this sacred hoop.
I can’t wait until this Saturday’s class.