Love Reigns Here. That’s what I kept hearing from within as I walked from the pavilion at Kingston Point Beach on October 2nd, myriad crafts being created by busy hands, then on up the hill to where the performance, How Gourds Got Their Voices, would be. At the crest of that vista, overlooking the beach and the glorious Hudson River, Caru and Miss V were dressed majestically in white under a striking blue sky, preparing. Many other percussionists and performers were also assembled there, beneath looming, powerful paper maché puppets, handmade by Amy Trumpeter’s Red Wing Blackbird Theater. Back at the pavilion, families and individuals, young and old, were exploring the crafts projects our Circle had set out: community weaving, beaded jewelry, basket weaving, and “egg shell” percussion shakers inserted with dried quinoa and couscous. All this was being presented as part of Sankofa, Circle’s second annual celebration of traditional West African and African-American crafts and arts. Inclusive to all cultures, our intention, again, was to offer up the inspiration, joy and healing that flows through craft and story.

Called by the sounds of drums and shekeres at 3:30, as scheduled, everyone moved excitedly towards the hill. Some 150 visitors quickly filled all of the 50 chairs that had been set out in a semicircle, as well as upon numerous picnic blankets, while many others stood. Several hundred flowers of endless hues and types had been hand picked with gratitude the day before, carefully laid out to create a framed technicolor aisle and walkway between the chairs and out towards the river’s edge. A single flower had also been set out on each seat, a gorgeous idea that had burst forth from a 12 year old helper who thoughtfully sensed this detail would serve as both an invitation and an offering. Sage burned, wafting cleansing smoke of the ancients. There were faces of every color, every age, resting expectantly, wrapped in a backdrop of dancing phragmites, those tall grasses pushed by the wind, rising up out of a carpet of green. It was surprisingly quiet, everyone thoughtfully speaking in hushed voices, mixing with the soft sounds of percussion.

This was not anyone’s run-of-the-mill production. This experience felt so steeped in beauty that it evoked the divine in the most accessible and honest way. The Beauty Way. The Navajo call this Hózhó, a word that evokes a philosophy and recipe for a fulfilled life based on a concept of living holistically with principles of Balance, Harmony, Well-Being, and truest Beauty- that which is beneath the skin and connects rather than competes, that supports and inspires instead of succeeding or manifesting at the detriment of something or someone else.

The Beauty Way. That’s what I thought about with each glance at the handmade creations proudly created, worn, and held up as evidence of everyone’s time together under the pavilion. With each wave of laughter I witnessed. Each moment the shekeres shimmied their symphony out over the crowd. I felt it while running across our “stage” with my friends who so generously donated their time and energy to help grow the seeds of Caru’s story into a dream-like garden. The Beauty Way was indeed in those carrying Amy Trumpeter’s puppets and bringing them to life.

I asked Caru if she could describe some of what she felt that day. She said, “The people there were so ready to reclaim the past with love, rather than with shame and blame and fear. Truth will always rise to the surface eventually, when we allow the truth to come in and make us more complete people. And it is love that is at the heart of reclaiming the good things of the past that makes us, that heals us. The idea of Sankofa is that for me.”

Phoebe Lain, one of the day’s volunteers and a dear friend of Circle’s co-founders had this to offer about her experience: “It was an honor to be part of sharing Caru’s story. I have such a respect for her, for her life and work, and the power and healing that comes through her. So it was a joy and honor to be able to be part of sharing and telling her story in that way. The performance, the story, the day, they were all about how important true community is- and what that is. Caru’s story was about calling back the lost ones- and the importance of that also reminded us of the importance of that for each of us who were being given the opportunity to call back the lost ones in our own lives, the ancestors, as well as the lost aspects of ourselves.”

And when asked what was it like to work with the puppets, Phoebe said, “Working with the puppets, it felt like a huge honor. It was a fun, playful and powerful experience to bring that puppet to life.”

Love reigns here, I heard from a far off voice in my head again on the day of the performance, as Caru, Miss V and the percussionists led the crowd towards the river’s edge. “Souls are gathered in freedom…” they sang, evoking the words of an old song written down at some point by Phyllis Bethel. “Souls a’gathered in freedom...” Jubilantly, shoes and socks were being kicked off, pant legs hiked up, toddlers and young ones stripped down to their underwear, adults and children rushed innocently to the water. “Souls are gathered in freedom...they’re gathered in the water, uh huh. They’re gathered in the water,” we sang as one voice, while prayers, intentions, or silent requests for forgiveness were laid carefully or tossed upon the river’s smooth skin. And we kept on singing, watching the colorful petalled heads as they were carried off in the currents, our hearts swelling with all that seemed to have erupted out of all that love, or because of it. Together, steeped in such a spell, and the forgiving and timeless mediums of craft, storytelling, and music, each and every one of us slowed time to a delicious calm. We managed to come into a rare kind of presence of being as if magically released, if only for a few sublime hours, from the collective weight of fear, and any burdens of not feeling good “enough”, or separate, or anything else that is out of alignment with joy and connection.

According to dlib.indiana.edu “It has been said that Hózhó may be the most important word in the Navajo language. Often translated as ‘balance and beauty’ the concept of Hózhó carries with it an important emphasis on states of harmony. Hózhó also emphasizes the many connections that link the ephemeral and changing parts of the world together into a larger, more persistent and significant whole. Beauty is central to Navajo life and thought. While Western societies often emphasize beauty as a surface phenomenon, evident in a person's or object's physical appearance, Navajo thinking about beauty extends beyond what can be perceived directly by the senses. It encompasses basic notions about [-] goodness. This is expressed in orderly and harmonious relationship with other people, with the other parts of the natural world, and with the world of spiritual beings and forces.”

In Caru’s story, she narrated the words: “A long, long, loong time ago, way back before it was necessary to number the years like we do now— and wayyy back before things like issues were born….into great big things called baggage carried upon all our backs… things like judgement, separation, envy or greed. Back then there were no lost people. Not that there were no lessons in life like how to be childlike in loving. But there were no lost people. But then greed grew into something so horrendous, so monstrous that every time someone stole or traded for more than they needed to live, the innocent ones were lost.

“Songs and chants were raised high calling out prayers to the gods for assistance and strength—to capture greed and pare it down to size. So to save their essences, the voices of the lost ones were captured in the gourds. But now every time we play a gourd it is the voices of the ancestors we are shaking free, helping to awaken and rise up. When we play the gourd, the ancestors can sing up to the heavens again, out to nature. They call down the spirit of the gods to bring forth the healing of the community. And every time we each take a little less for ourselves and give a little more for the community. In turn, greed shrinks and our Aṣẹ grows.”

Mirabai Trent, one of Circle’s Co-Founders shared that “[The event} was so huge yet so intimate and loving. We all met in such a pure way, in a space we know but we forget we know. The heartfelt conversations…watching everybody abuzz…it felt like the walls of Covid just fell away. When I walked with Miss V and we led the procession to the river, I really felt the force of so many hearts behind us. And I was so moved by the way the waters seemed to accept the offerings of joy, the flowers, and the gift of the day. Those flowers could have just stayed at the shore but the river took them out and out. And there was such a beauty of collaboration. I really admire the way so many people were willing to show up with their open hearts…”

Phoebe would add this to her takeaway of the experience that day. “How beautiful it was to see how healing comes through gathering together with intention and bringing sacred ceremony too. Voices of the Ancestors was a performance and it was also a ceremony, and I have really been feeling how much of a ceremony that it was. I remember hearing about how in Bali, traditionally the people spend a large part of their day in ceremony- yet they have to do their daily responsibilities of life- not in an ashram- so they make everything ceremony- the washing of clothes, the making of food. And our performance made that clear- from the gathering together beforehand, to the end with the offering of flowers to the river and song and prayer for the waters. How much healing there was, because everything was done with intention and that really came through. Literally after we did the water ceremony there were giant wings across the sky— clouds in the formation of wings across an otherwise blue sky— and that was like whoah! Though I was already feeling the healing of the day, and the strong presence of what was co-created there between everyone present and even all the elemental and spirit beings, that seemed to be one more validation.”

On a warm and sunny day in Kingston, New York, a woman named Caru, along with her magical story, some shekeres and friends shared the gifts of joy, open hearts, and creativity! Together, we shook awake the slumbering ancient ones, helped them share their wisdom again, and wove together the beautiful tapestry of our complex community.

“And that is how gourds got their voices, how gourds got their voices, gourds, got, their, voices.”

Gratitude.

There was so much beauty that afternoon that it helped restore our collective belief in goodness and maybe even dream again into a more compassionate future together. Gratitude for each detail of the day that was so thoughtfully, collaboratively orchestrated and by so many, that seemed effortless. In fact, the event could have only come to life so easefully because of the collective intentions and a braiding of visions that happened with so much consideration and so little ego. Our friends and family members stood behind Caru’s vision and helped bring this to story to life, lavishly offering their time, creativity, and ideas. A huge thanks to all who volunteered so tirelessly- breathing life into the puppets, setting up chairs and crafts tables, guiding craft projects, breaking it all down, taking photos, and the endless tiny details of love. You know who you are. Thank you. Thank you. A huge thank you Carole “Caru” Thompson for your gift of story and storytelling, percussive brilliance, wisdom and prayer, laughter and heartfelt hugs, and to Miss V (Vanessa Shambet) for your creative input, your music, and powerful offerings of prayer, wisdom, connection to the waters, and deep presence. A profound thanks to Amy Trumpeter and the Redwing Blackbird Theater family! Gently tired flowers were gifted to us by The Green Cottage. Ken Greene and The Seed Library generously offered for us to cut more flowers from their bountiful gardens for our beautiful walkway of flowers that we offered up to the river. Tilda’s Kitchen of the Hudson Valley Current prepared food for our volunteers. Thank you to CCE, Harambee, Dirty Gaia, TC/ The Therapy-Collective, MyKingstonKids, and Ulster Savings. And thanks especially to Arts Mid Hudson for your generous grant.

-end-

Written by Jenny Wonderling

Video by Matthew Petricone; Photos by Antonin Hewitt, Matthew Gustafson, Melissa Hewitt

LYRICS to Souls A’Gathered In Freedom

by Phyllis Bethel

Souls a’gathered in freedom

Souls are gathered in freedom

Souls a’gathered in freedom

They’re gathered in the water, uh huh

They’re callin’ out from the water

Callin’ out from the water

They want you to listen, uh huh

Can’t you hear them callin’?

They’re callin’ out from the water

They want you to listen, uh huh