In 2004 I signed up for another six-month programme. This time the Vision quest was for three days and three nights. No food, just water, which I boiled on my fire with some lemon.
I was in a gully on the mountains of north Wales. For the first 24 hours I basked, in my circle, like a seal in the sun. Then the weather changed. A storm rolled in that was so severe it removed the remains of the west pier in Brighton. Nestled in the porch of a makeshift tarpaulin shelter, I sat and sat and fed my fire one stick at a time.
Over the three days, once I had moved through the contrasting emotions of initial joy followed by varying degrees of outrage (who in their right mind would sign up for this), I felt as though I had been there forever and nothing mattered at all.
Read the poem Vision Quest 2 by Emily J Gibson
as earthlings wedged in time and space
our realm relates the human race
kinships threading through our mothers
friends lovers fathers brothers
beings reflecting all our ways
a spinning wheel of truth each day
yet mired and dim our kin can be
the mirrored face won't let us see
who is the one who shows to us
who shares the naked truth with love
who caters to our earthly needs
who births our bones from rocks and trees
the sacred earth mothers our home
despite the ego’s trip alone
in nature’s hearth there are no lies
no place to go where self can hide
profound absurd sublime or small
truths unfurl trawling the soul
even when facing down the task
prayers are answered no words asked
even when bored or mad with rage
reveals the hearts burning refrain
even when lonely to the core
nature's balm unveils what’s raw
time gets lost and shape-shifts space
all needs I have right now in place
this is the present for our creed
exploded from one thought in seed
a paradox’s the life I breath
there is no other
you are me
