A Season at Four Quarters
by Eliza Riggs,
Summer 2003
I tripped upon Four Quarters quite
accidentally, by way of advertisement you might say. And reading the Wheel of the Year
Calendar provided me with mind’s-eye images of what I might expect. A Hippie Haven in
southern Pennsylvania? An Interfaith Sanctuary? A farm? A camp? A commune? I did not know,
but I was very curious and whatever Four Quarters turned out to be, I believed was worth
exploring. And like anything else, I knew I would have to experience Four Quarters to find
its truth.
As a first-time newbie in early 2003, I fully intended to spend as much
of my teacher’s summer vacation as I could at Four Quarters. And I was told by the
smiling faces at registration that if I did, I would surely be a different person by the
end of the season, with “The Season” referring to the Moon Services and events
that begin in May with Beltaine and end in late October with Samhain. I listened closely
and thought this promise might prove true, but how or to what extent I couldn’t know.
I did know that I had already seen a great deal and had done a great deal in my 40 years.
I had prided myself in identifying problems, figuring the best solution, and then putting
the equation to work. I was skilled at overcoming obstacles, and now it appeared I was
obstacle free. I had a good job, nice home, dependable transportation, good friends and
many, many cats. But I could see I was lacking something. I hadn’t a clue what that
something was or where to find it, or I would have already sought it out. The thing I was
lacking was not obvious, although I knew it figured largely in the way I viewed the world.
“Unfulfilled” may be the best way to describe the way I felt, and as a teacher I
had supposedly the most fulfilling job in the world. I needed answers; answers to
questions I didn’t know how to ask.
The season began quietly, yet invitingly with a small Moon Service; the
setting beautiful and the people very open. And although I was not overwhelmed by that
first Service, it did show me that there were many aspects to the full Four Quarters
picture that were not part of my first “mind’s eye” images. My curiosity
tweaked, I knew I would continue to attend Moon Services and other Farm events to get a
more detailed view of what was happening at Four Quarters. To my benefit, I began spending
a fair amount of time at the Farm on weekends and was fortunate enough to quickly realize
that the Farm was much more than a Moon Service twice a month. I saw that a Moon Service
here and there might be all one person is looking for, just as one big event might satisfy
another. But I was looking for more, and was pleased to find a number of people I could
communicate with openly about my family, work, religion, and pretty much anything I had an
interest in. One of the things I was impressed by was that no one was attempting to
impress their beliefs on me. With Four Quarters as an Interfaith Sanctuary, differences
and individual thoughts are encouraged. In fact, there is open enjoyment of our
differences. And now the season was really beginning.
Drum and Splash was the first event that led me to believe I had tripped upon
my spiritual awakening. I certainly did not feel I was at a campground in rural
Pennsylvania when I sat at a fire circle surrounded by the beating of African drums and
the dancing of feet from many cultures. My previous Independence Day celebrations involved
city parks, fireworks, parades, cookouts, and other party favors. In a sense, Drum and
Splash was again all of these things. It had a different flavor, however, than any earlier
Fourth of July celebration I had attended. The city park became a campground for
Interfaith Religions, where people of all backgrounds and all ages are welcome. The
fireworks were still fireworks as the bursts of sound turned into explosions of light. The
small town parade with its fire trucks and high school bands became a parade of fire
dancers and a dragon dancing through the High Meadow of Four Quarters. The cookout with
hotdogs and hamburgers became a feast of roasted pig and corn on the cob. And lastly, the
party favors I was accustomed to became drummers, dancing, and fire circles. As I look
back to this Fourth of July celebration, I must use the words, culture, class, and
celebration. I learned a basic concept of, and connection to, the magic of Fire Circle.
And I also took a new appreciation for dance, and a knowing that music lives within us
even after our feet and our voices go silent. But what really struck me was the incredible
work and teamwork that goes on behind the scenes to make an event like this happen. After
Drum and Splash at Four Quarters, I was feeling a great respect for the Staff who made
this extraordinary experience possible for me.
Espiritu Santo would be the next event I attended, and it had a profound
impact upon me. At the onset, I couldn’t see any possible similarities between me, a
West Virginia Eliza Doolittle, and the “eggun” whos and the “baba”
whats. After the opening Etanna Eggun, or “Light a Candle for Your Ancestors”
ceremony, I felt a confusing draw to the religion. It was unlike any organized religious
ceremony I had previously witnessed or been a part of. With the scent of cigar smoke and
the smell of rum, the Santerians hit their Eggun sticks upon the ground to call upon their
departed ancestors. With singing, dancing, and drumming, the Santerians called out to
those that went before them. The following day, I attended a friend’s Entrada, where
she received her first initiation. I wept as I witnessed true sacrifice and watched as we
reverently gave back to the land. I raised my hands in praise as I felt my deceased father
touch my soul. As I felt the presence of God as strongly as I had ever felt his presence
before, I knew He-She had many faces and forms. As spirit filled the air, I knew my
realities were changing.
I felt I was becoming aware as I progressed through my season at Four
Quarters. Things were becoming obvious to me, that I had been oblivious to moments
earlier. Body Tribal encouraged me to think of human history, my history. Stones, Bones
and the heart beat of the Tribe. The ancient history of mankind is certainly nothing new,
but it was new to my thoughts. As the celebrants of the main ceremony ritually painted
themselves and the drumming and fires got underway, I felt connected to my ancestors of
long ago, to their campfires, to their customs, and to their realities. The distance of
thousands of years was foreshortened and connections were made. History filled the pages
of any art text or social studies course I had studied, but never before had I made the
connection to my human history that I made at Body Tribal.
My experience of Stones Rising at Four Quarters is one simple word. Family. I
have always been a hard worker, a quality learned from my parents. I have also been very
prideful in doing things by myself and found it a weakness to ask for help. The only help
I would ever ask for would be from my family, and only in extreme cases. At Stones Rising,
and on other occasions at the Farm, I have learned that I can also be a stronger person in
asking for help. Again my realities were changing. Where asking for help was a big deal to
me, I never considered it to be a weakness in others. But you know what? Strength can be
found in imperfection, and a lesson to be learned with age. And how has Stones Rising
helped me with this? Think of what one person can do, and imagine what many people can do.
And then do it. That is what Stones Rising is about. A 4-ton stone, up a hill, with a
rope, in the dark. It sounded impressive enough, and looked impressive to see the 20 odd
Stones in a circle. But to be a part of it was worth more money than I had to pay for the
mere registration fee. I could have spent 5 times the money going to a therapist, or a
spa, or whatever feel-good route I could think of, and not have gotten the personal
satisfaction, cleansing, gratification, and spiritual high that I experienced at Stones
Rising. I nearly tripped over a tiny spot of a woman who was pulling in front of me.
Usually, I don’t like people in my way. I have been a one-woman show and ‘please
don’t be in my road.’ But that day, that day at Stones, I was part of a
community. That tiny spot of a woman had my heart, as did every puller, onlooker, dancer,
and torchbearer. I had a bit part in a major production that weekend, one of my greatest
accomplishments, and I did not do it alone.
And as the season is winding down at Four Quarters, I have not only
found a new family, but have come to love and respect my original family with a greater
conviction. For me, Four Quarters is about family. It is about the family from our past.
It is about the family we have been raised with. And it is about the family we become a
part of, because of experience and by choosing. Indeed, Four Quarters has not changed me,
it has awakened me. At the age of 40, I feel I truly have opened the door to the second
half of my life on earth. And as I open the door, the expanse is vast and full of
possibilities.
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