Mending the Sacred Hoop

Among many Indigenous nations of North America, the image of the Sacred Hoop is a powerful symbol of life, harmony, and interconnection. The hoop represents the cycles of the seasons, the circle of life, and the interconnected cycle of birth, growth, death, and rebirth within nature and human existence. It embodies the truth that all beings--human, animal, plant, stone, water, and star--are interconnected parts of a living web. Perhaps the most important aspect of Indigenous cosmology is the conception of creation as a living process resulting in a living universe in which a kinship exists between all things. Thus, the Mother Earth is a living being, as are the Sun, Stars and the Moon.

Yet across history, the Sacred Hoop has been fractured. Colonial violence, forced assimilation, environmental destruction, and the loss of ancestral traditions have broken many of the bonds that once held communities, people, and nature together. To speak of mending the Sacred Hoop is to speak of the work of healing, reconciliation, and remembering our place within the great circle of life.

This process is both deeply personal and profoundly collective. It asks us to recognize what has been broken, honor the wounds, and begin the patient and reverent work of repair.

The Symbol of the Hoop

The circle has always held sacred meaning. For many Indigenous traditions, the circle is the shape of the cosmos itself. The sun and moon travel in circular paths, the seasons turn in endless cycles, and the life of a person moves through stages of birth, growth, maturity, and death--only to continue in spirit.

Lakota holy man Black Elk once said, "The power of the world always works in circles, and everything tries to be round." In this way, the hoop is more than a symbol. It is a mirror of the natural order.

When the hoop is whole, balance is present: balance between the masculine and feminine, the human and more-than-human, the individual and community. But when it is broken, imbalance reigns. We see this imbalance in our modern world through climate disruption, widespread loneliness, addiction, and the ongoing wounds of cultural disconnection.

What Broke the Hoop?

The hoop has been broken in many ways, both historically and spiritually. Colonization brought the forced removal of Indigenous peoples from their lands, the banning of ceremonies, and the trauma of residential and boarding schools. These acts not only wounded people but also tore apart the living connections between communities and the land itself.

But the breaking of the Sacred Hoop is not confined to Indigenous experience alone. In a sense, all people living in today's industrialized world carry fragments of this brokenness. Many have lost their ancestral traditions, their kinship with Mother Earth, and their sense of belonging to a greater whole. We see the results in ecological devastation, alienation, and social fragmentation.

Acknowledging this brokenness is the first step in healing. To mend the hoop, we must look honestly at the history of harm while also reclaiming the wisdom of connection.

Mending Through Ceremony

One of the most vital ways the Sacred Hoop is mended is through ceremony. For Indigenous peoples, ceremonies such as the Sun Dance, sweat lodge, pipe ceremonies, and healing songs are not simply rituals--they are acts of reweaving the web of life.

When a community gathers in ceremony, they call upon the spirits, the ancestors, and the natural forces to help restore harmony. The circle itself--drummers, dancers, elders, children--becomes a living expression of the Sacred Hoop made whole again.

For those outside Indigenous traditions, ceremony can take different forms, but the principle is the same. Whether through prayer, ritual, gathering, or personal practices that honor the sacredness of life, ceremony becomes a bridge to wholeness. Planting a tree with intention, offering tobacco or water to the Earth Mother, or sitting quietly in gratitude at sunrise--all these are ways of repairing the threads.

Healing Intergenerational Wounds

Mending the Sacred Hoop also means tending to the deep wounds of trauma, both individual and collective. Many Indigenous communities speak of the importance of healing not just for the living but for the ancestors and for the generations yet to come.

Trauma, when left unaddressed, perpetuates cycles of pain. But when acknowledged and healed, the cycle is interrupted, and the hoop begins to mend. This work often requires storytelling, truth-telling, forgiveness, and the reclaiming of languages, songs, and cultural practices once suppressed.

For non-Indigenous people, healing intergenerational wounds may mean exploring one's own ancestral stories--honoring what was lost, grieving what was broken, and reclaiming ways of being that foster kinship rather than separation.

The Role of Community

No hoop can be mended in isolation. Community is essential. When people come together in mutual respect and shared intention, healing accelerates. This is why circles--whether in councils, talking circles, or gatherings of prayer--are such powerful spaces for transformation.

To sit in a circle is to remember equality: no one above, no one below, all voices important. In a world of hierarchies and divisions, the circle calls us back to the truth of interconnectedness.

Mending the Sacred Hoop on a community level might mean fostering dialogue between cultures, creating spaces of reconciliation, or working together on ecological restoration projects. Each collective action is a stitch in the torn fabric.

Mother Earth as Teacher

Perhaps the greatest ally in mending the Sacred Hoop is the living Earth herself. The land remembers wholeness, even when humans forget. By spending time in nature--listening to the wind, watching the cycles of growth and decay, honoring the animals--we learn again how to walk in balance.

Mother Earth teaches patience. A forest regrows slowly after fire, rivers carve valleys over millennia, and even a wounded ecosystem can heal when given respect and time. In this way, the Earth Mother offers both model and medicine for our own repair.

A Call to Action

To mend the Sacred Hoop is not a metaphorical task alone; it is a daily practice. It calls for concrete actions:

• Personal healing: tending to our inner wounds, seeking balance in our lives.
• Cultural healing: supporting the revitalization of Indigenous traditions and respecting sovereignty.
• Ecological healing: restoring landscapes, protecting waters, and living sustainably.
• Spiritual healing: remembering the sacredness of all life and living in gratitude.

Each act, however small, is a thread woven back into the circle.

The Calling of Our Time

Mending the Sacred Hoop is not the work of one generation alone. It is the calling of our time and the gift we can offer to future generations. The hoop may have been broken, but it is not beyond repair. Through ceremony, community, healing, and reconnection with the Earth Mother, we participate in a great act of remembrance--the remembering that we are not separate, but part of a circle that holds all beings. When the Sacred Hoop is mended, harmony can return. And when harmony returns, life can flourish again in beauty, balance, and wholeness.

Taking Care the Spirit World

In his luminous book Long Life, Honey in the Heart, Martin Prechtel shares a truth rooted in Indigenous Mayan tradition: "Take care of the spirit world, and the spirit world will take care of you." This statement is more than poetic wisdom; it is a principle for living a life of reciprocity, balance, and reverence for the unseen forces that support us.

We live in a time when the material world is often mistaken as the only reality. Productivity, consumption, and measurable progress dominate how we value life. Yet, in the rush to master the physical, many have forgotten that life is upheld by invisible threads--the ancestors, the spirits of the land, the energies of dreams, the pulse of the earth. When these are neglected, a sense of emptiness creeps into our lives, manifesting as anxiety, alienation, and disconnection. Prechtel reminds us that remembering, honoring, and feeding the spirit world restores the sacred reciprocity that sustains us.

The Spirit World as Kin

In many Indigenous traditions, the spirit world is not abstract or distant--it is kin. The land, animals, ancestors, winds, rivers, and even stones are recognized as living relatives who hold their own intelligence and agency. To take care of them is to treat them with the same respect and attention one would offer to beloved family.

This care takes many forms: offering prayers, leaving gifts of food or flowers at sacred places, singing songs of gratitude, or remembering ancestors with stories. Such acts are not superstitions but essential gestures of acknowledgment. They keep the relationships between human beings and the unseen realms alive and reciprocal.

Prechtel writes about how, in the Mayan village where he lived, neglecting these obligations would be unthinkable. Without tending the spirits, people believed crops might fail, children could fall ill, or the community would suffer. By contrast, when the spirits were fed and remembered, abundance and harmony returned.

The Poverty of Forgetting

Modern culture often suffers from what could be called a "poverty of forgetting." In the rush toward progress, many have cut ties with ancestral traditions, lost rituals of remembrance, and neglected offerings to the unseen. As a result, the spirit world grows hungry. This hunger appears in subtle ways:

• A sense of being rootless or adrift.
• Disconnection from place, nature, or community.
• A gnawing emptiness that material success cannot fill.
• A collective grief that has no name.

When the spirit world is ignored, the balance of reciprocity is broken. Just as neglecting a friendship eventually causes it to wither, so too does ignoring the invisible realms weaken the flow of nourishment and blessing in our lives.

Feeding the Spirits

So what does it mean to "take care of the spirit world"? The answer is not found in one prescribed ritual, but in an attitude of reverence expressed through acts of beauty and offering. Some ways include:

1. Gratitude as Offering: Speaking words of thanks to the land, sky, ancestors, and elements each day is a form of spiritual nourishment. Gratitude acknowledges the unseen forces that allow us to live.

2. Creating Beauty: Prechtel emphasizes the importance of beauty as food for the spirits. Singing, painting, dancing, making altars, or tending a garden are all ways to feed the world beyond the visible. Beauty is not frivolous; it is necessary sustenance.

3. Ritual Remembrance: Lighting a candle for ancestors, leaving offerings of food or flowers, or telling old stories keeps the dead alive in spirit. By remembering them, we feed their presence in our lives.

4. Reciprocity with Nature: Planting trees, caring for water, honoring animals--these are acts of spiritual reciprocity. To give back to the earth is to give back to the spirits who animate it.

5. Living Generously: Acts of kindness, generosity, and compassion also feed the unseen world. Spirits are nourished when humans live with open hearts.

How the Spirits Take Care of Us

When the spirit world is cared for, life feels different. We find ourselves moving in harmony with unseen currents. Opportunities unfold, synchronicities arise, and a deeper sense of belonging infuses daily life. The spirits respond to our offerings not in transactional ways but through mysterious, life-sustaining gifts.

Prechtel writes that when the spirits are remembered, they bring sweetness to life--what he calls "honey in the heart." This sweetness is not about avoiding suffering but about feeling supported, connected, and held by something greater than ourselves. It is the taste of living in a world that is alive, reciprocal, and enchanted.

Reweaving the Sacred

The call to take care of the spirit world is especially urgent today. Our planet faces ecological crises, social fragmentation, and spiritual disconnection. Yet beneath the chaos lies the possibility of reweaving our relationships with the unseen. Each act of reverence, each offering of beauty, each word of gratitude helps mend the frayed threads between worlds.

To begin, we do not need to appropriate rituals from other cultures. We can start with what is near: the land beneath our feet, the ancestors who walk with us, the simple acts of gratitude that remind us we are not alone. Prechtel reminds us that beauty, offerings, and remembering are universal languages.

A Way of Life

Ultimately, "take care of the spirit world and the spirit world will take care of you" is not a slogan but a way of life. It asks us to live in reciprocity, to recognize that the invisible is as real and vital as the visible. It calls us to live not as consumers of life but as participants in a web of mutual care.

When we feed the spirits with beauty, gratitude, and remembrance, we restore balance. In turn, the spirits feed us with guidance, protection, and sweetness. Life becomes infused with meaning. The heart grows honeyed. And we rediscover what it means to be fully human: a being woven into both the visible and invisible worlds, responsible for keeping the threads strong.

About the Author

Martin Prechtel's life, well documented in his books, has taken him from the Pueblo Indian reservation in New Mexico, where he grew up, to the Guatemalan village of Santiago Atitlan, where he was the student and eventual successor of a powerful shaman. Eventually Prechtel became a principal member of the village body of spiritual leaders, responsible for introducing the young people to the meanings of their ancient stories and guiding them through their long rituals of initiation. Today Martin Prechtel lives once again in his native New Mexico and is active as a writer, teacher, speaker, musician, and healer. Using ceremony, language, and story, he helps people in many lands reconnect with a sense of place, a sense of the daily sacred, and their search for the Indigenous Soul.

Getting Started with Shamanic Journeying

Shamanic journeying is one of humanity's oldest spiritual practices, used for millennia by cultures around the world to access guidance, healing, and wisdom from the unseen realms. At its heart, journeying is a method of shifting your state of consciousness so you can connect with spirit guides, ancestors, and the living energies of nature. While its origins are ancient, the practice is deeply relevant today for anyone seeking clarity, balance, and a stronger connection to the web of life.

If you've ever felt the call to explore your inner worlds, meet your spirit helpers, or tap into a more intuitive way of living, shamanic journeying can be a profound and empowering path. Here's how to begin.

What Is Shamanic Journeying?

In shamanic traditions, reality is understood as having multiple layers or planes of consciousness:

• The Lower World -- a place of earth energies, animal spirits, and ancestral roots.
• The Middle World -- the spiritual dimension of our everyday reality.
• The Upper World -- a realm of higher wisdom, teachers, and celestial energies.

A shamanic journey involves entering a light trance state--often through rhythmic drumming, rattling, or chanting--to travel into one of these realms. While your body remains still and grounded, your consciousness "journeys" in search of guidance, healing, or insight.

Why People Journey

People turn to shamanic journeying for many reasons, including:

• Personal healing -- working through emotional, mental, or spiritual blocks.
• Receiving guidance -- asking spirit allies for insight on life's challenges.
• Reconnecting with nature -- deepening relationship with the living Earth.
• Self-discovery -- uncovering gifts, purpose, or hidden strengths.
• Ancestral connection -- learning from those who walked before us.

The practice is both deeply personal and universally accessible. You don't need to belong to a particular culture or follow a specific religion to journey--only an open mind, respect for the process, and the intention to use it for good.

Preparation: Creating Sacred Space

Before journeying, preparation helps you align body, mind, and spirit. Here's a simple approach:

1. Choose a quiet place: Select a location where you won't be disturbed. This could be a meditation space, a comfortable corner, or even outside in nature.

2. Clear the space: You might burn sage, cedar, or palo santo, ring a bell, or simply visualize the area being filled with light.

3. Set your intention: Be specific. For example: "I seek to meet my power animal" or "I ask for guidance on a decision I face." Clarity of purpose helps focus the journey.

4. Gather tools: While not essential, many find it helpful to have a drum recording, rattle, blanket, or eye mask to deepen focus.

The Journeying Process

Here is a beginner-friendly method to get started:

1. Get comfortable: Lie down or sit in a relaxed position. Cover your eyes to block visual distractions.

2. Use rhythmic sound: A steady drumbeat of about 4–7 beats per second is ideal. This rhythm has been shown to help shift the brain into the theta state, associated with deep meditation and dreaming.

3. Enter through an "opening": In your mind's eye, imagine a natural entrance--such as a hollow tree, cave, or tunnel--that leads to the spirit world. This becomes your gateway.

4. Travel with awareness: Follow your inner vision without forcing it. You may meet animal guides, ancestors, or other beings. Observe, listen, and interact respectfully.

5. Ask your question or seek guidance: Once connected with a helper, state your intention and be open to responses that may come as words, images, feelings, or symbols.

6. Return consciously: When it feels complete--or when the drumbeat changes to a "call back" rhythm--thank your helpers, retrace your path to the entry point, and re-emerge into ordinary reality.

7. Ground yourself: Move your body, drink water, or eat something nourishing to fully return.

Recording Your Experience

After journeying, immediately write or record what you experienced. Even if it feels dreamlike or symbolic, details may hold meaning later. Over time, patterns may emerge--such as recurring guides, places, or symbols--that deepen your relationship with the spirit world.

Common Spirit Allies

While everyone's experiences are unique, many beginners encounter:

• Power Animals -- animal spirits that protect, guide, and empower you.
• Teachers -- wise human or spirit beings who share knowledge.
• Nature Spirits -- rivers, mountains, plants, or elemental forces that offer connection and perspective.

Trust what comes, even if it surprises you. Spirit often speaks through imagery that resonates on a symbolic or emotional level.

Tips for Beginners

• Practice regularly -- even 10–15 minutes a few times a week builds skill and familiarity.
• Release expectations -- each journey is different; avoid comparing to others.
• Respect the process -- this is a sacred practice, not a casual game.
• Stay grounded -- balance spiritual exploration with practical, everyday life.
• Seek guidance if needed -- working with an experienced practitioner can help you refine your technique and interpret your journeys.

Ethics and Respect

Shamanic journeying is powerful and should be approached with humility.

• Always ask for permission before working on behalf of someone else.
• Use the practice for healing, insight, and connection--not manipulation or harm.
• Remember that different cultures have their own ways of journeying; be mindful of cultural appropriation by honoring the roots of the practice and acknowledging your sources.

The Gifts of Journeying

Over time, shamanic journeying can transform how you see yourself and the world. You may feel more connected to nature, more in tune with your intuition, and more able to navigate life's challenges with clarity and courage. Many discover a renewed sense of belonging--not just to their personal story, but to the great unfolding story of the Earth and cosmos.

The journey begins with a single step--or in this case, a single beat of the drum. Approach it with openness, respect, and curiosity, and you may find that the worlds you visit are not "somewhere else" at all, but woven into the fabric of life that surrounds and sustains you.

Shamanic journeying is not about escaping reality; it's about seeing reality more fully. By traveling inward, we awaken to the living connections all around us--and to the wisdom that has always been within.

Facing Down the Darkness

Darkness is a universal metaphor. It represents fear, despair, uncertainty, and the shadow side of human experience. Across cultures and spiritual traditions, "the darkness" has been a symbol of the trials we must face--both in the world and within ourselves. Yet from a spiritual perspective, darkness is not only something to fear; it is also a teacher, a threshold, and a path to transformation.

Facing down the darkness is not about eradicating it. It is about meeting it with courage, awareness, and compassion, so that what was once a source of fear becomes a gateway to deeper wisdom.

Understanding the Nature of Darkness

In spiritual traditions, darkness often plays a paradoxical role. It is the void from which creation emerges, the womb of potential, the quiet place where seeds germinate before breaking into the light. At the same time, it is the realm of ignorance, illusion, and suffering.

Mystics throughout history--from the Taoist sages of ancient China to the shamans of the Amazon--have recognized that life is a dance of opposites. Just as day cannot exist without night, the light of the soul is most clearly perceived against the backdrop of our shadows.

The spiritual journey inevitably leads us into encounters with darkness. This can take many forms:

• Personal trials: grief, loss, betrayal, or illness.
• Inner shadows: unacknowledged fears, suppressed anger, unresolved trauma.
• Collective darkness: societal injustice, war, and ecological crisis.

It is tempting to avoid or deny these realities, to cling to the light and pretend the shadows do not exist. But avoidance only gives darkness more power. True spiritual growth requires turning toward it.

Why We Must Face It

Avoiding darkness does not dissolve it--it buries it. Unmet pain festers. Unacknowledged fears shape our decisions from the shadows. Denial can create more harm than the truth we are trying to avoid.

Spiritually, facing the darkness is essential for three reasons:

1. Integration of the Self: Carl Jung spoke of "the shadow" as the unintegrated parts of ourselves. By bringing our shadows into awareness, we become whole. Spiritual maturity is not about becoming flawless; it's about knowing all parts of ourselves and choosing how to act with integrity.

2. Strength and Resilience: Meeting life's challenges with open eyes strengthens the soul. Just as a muscle grows through resistance, the spirit grows through confrontation with difficulty.

3. Access to Deeper Light: Paradoxically, our deepest experiences of light often arise after we have moved through profound darkness. The night sky reveals the stars; the darkest times can awaken our most radiant compassion.

The Inner Battle

Facing the darkness is an inner battle more than an outer one. While the events of life may be beyond our control, our relationship to them is a matter of choice.

When fear rises, the mind often spins into stories of catastrophe. Spiritual practice teaches us to witness these stories without getting lost in them. Whether through meditation, prayer, breathwork, or shamanic journeying, we learn to meet fear not as an enemy, but as a messenger.

The darkness inside often takes the form of:

• Limiting beliefs ("I am not enough," "The world is hopeless")
• Old wounds that we carry like unhealed scars
• Unconscious habits that keep us in cycles of suffering

By facing these inner shadows with compassion, we can transform them. Sometimes, this transformation is gentle--a slow untying of knots. Other times, it is fierce, requiring us to burn away illusions.

Tools for Facing the Darkness

1. Awareness: Darkness thrives in ignorance. Simply bringing attention to what we fear can begin to dissolve its power. Journaling, contemplation, and honest self-reflection are powerful allies.

2. Spiritual Anchors: Practices like meditation, prayer, chanting, or drumming keep us connected to the light while we navigate the shadows. These anchors remind us that we are more than the darkness we face.

3. Sacred Community: Walking through darkness is easier when we have companions on the path. Supportive friends, spiritual teachers, and trusted communities offer guidance and remind us we are not alone.

4. Ritual and Symbol: Many traditions use ritual to externalize and transform inner darkness--burning what is no longer needed, offering it to the fire, the river, or the earth. Symbolic acts engage both the conscious and subconscious mind in healing.

The Gift in the Darkness

Every confrontation with darkness carries a gift, though it is often hidden. The alchemists spoke of turning lead into gold, a metaphor for transforming the dense, heavy aspects of life into spiritual treasure.

Sometimes the gift is wisdom--the understanding that only comes from experience. Sometimes it is empathy, born from knowing suffering firsthand. Sometimes it is a renewed sense of purpose, forged in the crucible of hardship.

The great mystic Rumi wrote, "The wound is the place where the Light enters you." This is not to glorify suffering, but to acknowledge that our broken places can become openings for grace.

A Larger View

From a higher spiritual perspective, darkness and light are not enemies; they are two aspects of the same wholeness. The cosmos itself was born from a formless void. In the cycles of nature, night gives way to dawn, winter to spring.

When we face the darkness, we participate in this larger dance. We recognize that even the most difficult experiences are part of an unfolding that is ultimately creative.

Walking Forward

Facing down the darkness is not a one-time event--it is an ongoing part of the spiritual path. There will be seasons when the shadows seem overwhelming and times when the light feels distant. Yet each step we take toward truth, each act of courage in the face of fear, becomes a beacon for others.

The spiritual path asks us to trust that no darkness is absolute. Somewhere, even in the blackest night, the seeds of dawn are stirring. Our task is to keep walking, eyes open, heart steady, grounded in the knowing that light and darkness are both sacred teachers.

The next time you feel the darkness closing in, pause. Breathe. Remember that you are not alone and that within you is a light no shadow can extinguish. Facing the darkness is not about conquering it--it is about becoming so rooted in truth that even in the deepest night, you can see the stars. To learn more, look inside my book, The Great Shift: And How To Navigate It.