The clouds peeled back like swirling curtains

The yoga retreat that took place this past weekend went very well despite the consistent fine mist of rain that did not clear until Saturday night. I topped off the tiki torches with kerosene. The retreatants made their way down the stone steps into the barranca in single file. I could see the light from their flashlights bouncing off the trees and rocks. Soon enough they entered the kiva. I played the didjeridoo as they found places to sit around the fire Skip tended. The ground around the fire glistened with a fresh coat of honey latex. After playing for 10 minutes, I stopped and gave thanks and honor to the Aborigines of Australia for inventing and preserving the didjeridoo. I told the story of how one of the more legitmate names for this remarkable instrument/meditation device/healing vibration is yadaki. I explained that the word didjeridoo was/is a mantra/chant/breathing pattern/tune that an old fella was playing. Someone asked: "What's that?" and was told "Didjeridoo" The name stuck. I talked some more and actually got a few laughs and then introduced Skip, the kiva's creator and main event for the evening. This time around, Skip was spectacular. He was soft spoken, gentle and welcoming. His expletives were colorful and he encouraged everyone to speak when ever they felt. He began by thanking the 4 directions, father sky and mother earth. He smoked hand rolled cigarettes, squatted, spoke about his life and tended the fire. The clouds peeled back like swirling curtains and the stars swam in the sky.

The next day, Julian asked me to play during chavasana. I came down at the appointed time and played as all the yogis layed on their backs eyes closed. I played for 10 minutes or so and then played on each person individually. I utilized various Tibetan Buddhist chants for the benefit of these peaceful warriors. Some vibrated as the sonic spray covered their aura. Some looked at me and smiled. I felt so honored to be able to contribute in this sacred way. I didjed the last person and slipped out the door.