I remember a time when my tribe gathered monthly in a sacred moon circle illuminated by candlelight.

Sometimes we’d tell stories, other times we’d sing.

And there were times when we would address the sexual exploitations of our women by men in our community.

Our tight-knit community distrusted the status quo and sought to create something beautiful, something sacred, amidst our toxic culture founded on entitlement.

We sought to be the change. We grew food, shared food, and broke bread.

We entered the sacred American Indian sweat lodge together, and when the heat became too blistering to handle, we prayed harder and harder to Mother Earth, her heartbeat reverberating throughout the earthen floor and blanketed walls of her womb…

We reclaimed our tribe, a birthright long forgotten by Western culture.

In 2001 I left our circle to travel to new lands and experience new things. I miss it dearly.

I miss the sacred, elemental connection I shared with my sisters.

I miss singing with these beautiful souls, but as the seasons changed I’ve continued to carry the spirit of our circle with me – by singing my favorite of our songs to my daughter Sage every night for more than a decade.

Here’s that song, which needs no accompaniment, although adding a slow and steady drum beat – Mother Earth’s heartbeat – adds a hypnotic dimension to it. So does signing this in rounds with a handful of women.

Mother I Feel You Under My Feet

Mother I feel you under my feet
Mother I hear your heartbeat

Mother I feel you under my feet
Mother I hear your heartbeat

Heya heya heya heya heya heya ho
Heya heya heya heya hey ho

Heya heya heya heya heya heya ho
Heya heya heya heya hey ho

*Repeat several times*

Note that there are a few variations of this song, but this is the one (also embedded below) that I would sing to Sage. Despite my inability to carry a tune, she would tell me that she loved it when I’d sing it to her. 

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Kristi