The Awakening of Russell Henderson.

My weekly installment of Russell and his awakening. The book is available at

There were large wooden posts lining the outside of a large circle with three strands of rope decorated with bandanas, scarves, feathers, bundles of sage, jewelry, too many things to count. A sign directed us to walk to the left, in a clockwise direction, on the path that followed the fence. There were seven others there, all looked to be Native American walking slowly and reverently. We followed suit, walking silently and reverently, realizing this was a sacred place, like maybe a church. At the far end, we walked on a path out towards the edge of a cliff and the distant view took my breath away.

Hanna spoke, “My god, This is so amazing. I can hardly breath. I almost want to cry with the utter magnificence of where we are.”

It took me a moment to clear the lump from my throat to speak, “Yeah, me too,” was all I could say. Again, like at the sweat, something deep and primal welled up inside me. This was so special. I felt strange, like electricity or energy of some sorts I couldn’t understand was running through my body.

Out to the West was Yellowstone National Park, and seemingly beyond that was forever. Hanna turned and started back. I could have stayed here forever, but turned and followed and continued on our journey around the wheel. 

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