We walk to the edge of the city, the edge of the known, and the edge of ourselves. In so many ways, from far away and deep inside, we are already there — on that borderland, called, readied. So we take the step, move the inner matter, embrace bravery and courage, and begin the actualization of severance, as we shoulder our pack and walk out into that sacred and dark forest that is the very essence of our fabric, the material of our dreams, for an unspeakable time. We go because it's what we know to do, it's how we know to enter, to be-come what lies beyond the confines of what has been.
That is why I go, into ceremony, on the land, to guide and be guided by that great pulse of aliveness, our inheritance as cohabitants of this brilliant blue-sky jewel that is our home as Earthlings.
Meredith Little once said that, "there are no thresholds in this life and so we mark them well." I understand this to mean that in the vast sweep of existence from birth to death, a myriad of changes will happen—transitions, de/re/constructions, joy, grief, gain, and loss—and that our sacred task is to lean in and tend those transformations by marking them. This is one ancient human technology for aligning and realigning ourselves to our gifts, feeling what needs to be felt, alchemizing our wounds, and liberating the dynamic lifeforce which pools just beneath the edges of those tidal forces of change surrounding our delicate, precious lives. I believe strongly in the power of a wilderness rite of passage to cultivate this essential sacred fire in each of us.
For the last two summers, I have had the humbling privilege of co-guiding the adult wilderness rites of passage programs for Rite of Passage Journeys with my beautiful and brilliant wife, Colleen. We come to this work, however, as ongoing participants too. I remember the threshold I walked through in my first rite of passage, the first Council circle I sat in, the power of being witnessed and seen, and the first rays of sunlight that warmed me as I emerged from the snow-cold waters that re-newed me.
We go empty, exposed, and alone onto the land (the three taboos) and invite a great conversation with the forest kin, the unseen, and the wildness of a living world and an opening heart. We step off alone for this journey, but we are held together by the co-questers on the land and by the guides who hold basecamp.
The work of it is powerful yet simple: a process of severance, threshold, and incorporation. There is no dogma, no 'right' way to do ceremony. There is council, community, intent, solo time (questing) in self-generated ceremony, and mirroring. These are the barebones of both the Adult Mountain Quest and Adult Wilderness Quest ceremonies. On the Mountain Quest, we pack all belongings and food into a backpack and head 15 miles up a trail over three-ish days, where we set up a basecamp from which the questers will go to and from their solo time. On the Wilderness Quest, we pack all our belongings and food into a few vehicles and head into a remote national forest, and set up a basecamp from which questers will go to and from their solo time. Both programs offer deep immersion into the wild earth, time for integrated reciprocity with the more-than-human world, and a woven human community to hold one another and our sacred immersions.
I feel such profound gratitude, humility, and excitement to once again hold these programs in 2023. I feel so given by the trust of this generative and long-standing organization, and by those who feel the call to meet us out there as they lean in to enact their gifts.
In kindness and reverence,
Thompson (tbird) Bishop
Join tbird and his co-guide (and wife), Colleen, this summer in Olympic National Park for Adult Mountain Quest or in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado for Adult Wilderness Quest.