I’m at a lodge. I’m not white. There are only natives there. I’m getting ready to sweat before a dance. I’m just a participant and the protocol is a little new to me. We setting up some regalia or other things we’re wearing to the side. There’s an altar and a line created with some green sticks on the ground. I’m not to cross them but the area is tight and I accidentally do so. Someone reminds that I shouldn’t cross the line. I’m taking of beads from my neck. There are drums there, skins, other bead work, a dressing area with skins for the women. It feels like a sophisticated and rich culture.
The dream switches and I’m at a different place waiting for a lodge I believe. I have a rattle that is flat on top with three round shapes covered tightly by a skin. The rattle has a really nice sound and someone asks me if I’m going to keep it after the ceremony. I tell them yes as I set it down to attend to something else. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a girl who’s walking around collecting things pick up my rattle and walk away. I call after her but she doesn’t hear my so I have to chase her down and reclaim my rattle. As I head back to where I was sitting, right in that spot is a beautiful large drum just like how John S makes them. I start playing it. A native man walks up and sits down. He starts singing a song and then starts a teaching about it. He’s talking about the number 1, and that if you have two 1’s, you have 11. Each lung is a 1. When I awaken, Ben’s morning star song is in my head.
