The Storyteller

September 23rd 2025

We tied our blindfolds and stood still in silence waiting for the music to begin.

There were about ten of us in the room, separated enough that we should be able to walk, move, and dance around without running into one another.

The music began. Each track was devoted to a particular rhythm and sound, moving through the chakras from top down.

Beginning with celestial tinkling chimes and moving on to grounding earthy percussion and tones.

I felt heat rising in my body and another world bloomed into my vision.

I dropped to my knees and scooped at the earth with my hands, feeling fresh cool soil in my palms. I held them up in front of me, showing the rich black earth to the tribe of people circled around me.

I was an old old woman but my spirit remained young and jovial.

My body was strong and healthy and much rounder in shape. My skin was copper toned and thick black hair hung over my shoulders and layed across my back like a shawl.

These people were both my community and family, and I was their storyteller, their grandmother, their comforter.

The youngest children of the tribe sat at the front, mother’s held infants and stood next to older siblings behind them, while father’s and grandfathers created the outer circle of the community, resting their hands on the shoulders of their loved ones forming a frame of protection and strength.

This was my nightly story after dinner.

A large fire burned near me in the middle of the circle and I was looking at every sweet face lit by the flames dancing in front of me.

I stood and walked nearer to them, holding the earth in my hands and feeling it glow with warmth and life.

I tilted my hands toward the fire and showed them how the elements twinkled brightly reflecting the light within the black soil as if I were holding the night sky in my hands.

Authors Photo

I then raised my hands upward and without words, showed them that the twinkling reflections in the soil was no different than the night sky full of stars.

Through movement and song alone, I communicated that when we walk on the earth, we are walking amongst the stars.

We are home even when we feel far away.

We are walking in a balance, a mirror between heaven and earth.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, aware I was still in the classroom in North Carolina, but so deep inside this vision that I never wanted to leave.

This is who I am.

This is who I’ve always been.

It felt like such an honor to hold and share these stories every night before bed.

To share wisdom with every age of the tribe.

These nightly bedtime stories delighted the children, taught the younger adults where they came from, and comforted the mothers and fathers to walk in their own wisdom and lineage.

That was years ago now, but I’ve been moving toward that vision ever since.

Thank you for reading. We love you.