A Spiritual Pilgrimage to the Red Centre
A last minute catch up with interstate witch and bedrock of the Australian community, Tim Ozpagan, resulted in a spontaneous decision to join him, and other journeyers, at the sacred heart of Australia, Uluru, where we would open the portal that straddled between the old year and the new.
To the traditional indigenous owners, the Anangu people, Uluru means “great pebble”, and it is out of what seems to be a sea of red sand that this “great pebble” of arkose (a coarse-grained sandstone) emerges. With its imposing presence towering above us, it is easy to understand why Uluru has long been held incredibly sacred and spiritual by the traditional landholders.
Well, round about the dawn of time
The dreamin' all began …(“Solid Rock”, Shane Howard, Goanna, 1982)
Within Aboriginal culture, the Dreaming usually refers to the time when the world was created by ancestral beings. The Anangu people refer to this time as Tjukurpa, where it defines their worldview, sacred connections to the land, and their place in the universe.
According to Tjukurpa, Uluru was created by ancestral beings that travelled across the land. The numerous caves, cliffs, and fissures are evidence of the time that the ancestral spirits spent on earth in connection with the creation of Uluru.
Cave by Kylie Allerton
Being one of the world’s largest monoliths, and with the base being some 9.4 kms (5.8 miles) in circumference, each part of Uluru was said to have been formed by various ancestral spirits.
While the northwest side was created the Mala people, our exploration took us to the southern side of Uluru, along the Kuniya Walk, the site of one of the more dramatic creation stories, that of the deadly battle between Kuniya (the woman python woman) and Liru (the poisonous brown snake man). This battle took place around the Muṯitjulu waterhole.
Muṯitjulu waterhole
It is also said that Kuniya and her spirit is believed to continue to protect the local caves that are still used by the Anangu. On our visit, no snakes were spotted, only a kaleidoscope of butterflies refreshing themselves in the trickling water on this hot summer’s day.
Amongst this incredibly ancient landscape, a deep primordial essence to be experienced. A reminder that even for outsiders, there is an unspoken acceptance given by the guardian spirits if respect is shown.
Our timing of our pilgrimage was to coincide with the Capricorn dark moon with Sirius near to the mid-heaven at midnight on 31 December 2024, this offered an opportunity to “step into a convergence of celestial and earthly energies that is profoundly special” as Tim informed us.
While specific Anangu myths about Sirius do not appear to be well documented, according to Duane W. Hamacher, Sirius is known as Guyaru, the Night Owl, to the Wardaman people (who live some 145kms southwest of Katherine in the Northern Territory). It is said that when Ginan, the fifth-brightest star in the Southern Cross (representing a red dilly-bag filled with special songs of knowledge) was found by Mulugurnden (the crayfish), it brought the red flying foxes from the underworld to the sky. The bats flew up the track of the Milky Way, trading the spiritual songs to Guyaru (Sirius) on their way from the constellation of Scorpius to the iconic Southern Cross.
Setting sun over Kata Tjuta
As the final hours of 2024 approached, we made our way to a secluded place amongst the sand dunes, away from the revellers, to undertake in the ritualistic night journey. This was, after all, the reason why we had gathered here.
Above us was the tail of the Milky Way, the body of Nut, the Egyptian Sky Goddess, stretching across the canopy of infinite space, with Sirius, our spiritual sun, shining bright amongst the darkness, high above the sacred centre of this great southern land. Below, and all around us, was the expanse of the Central Australian Desert, stretching far into the distant horizon. The cooling evening air offered respite from the soaring daytime temperatures, and every now and then the slight breeze carried with it a muffled sound from the distant celebrations.
With each breath, the gentle drum beat was drawing me deeper and deeper into this primordial earth. Some 500 million years ago, this land was covered by sea, and the fine red sand that was running through my fingers, was once solid bedrock.
As I dug deeper, it felt as if I was seeking grounding, acceptance even. I have lived in Australia for many years now, longer than in the country of my birth, yet have never truly felt as if I belonged. It is as if I will always to be a stranger in the strange land. But despite that sense of alienation, a feeling of comfort began to grow. It was as if these ancient lands had accepted me on some level, despite my strangeness. Or maybe it was because many indigenous peoples consider Sirius to be some kind of ancestral spirit that keeps a watch on us humans below, guiding us to the greater cosmic web.
It was then that I felt the desire to complete surrender, allowing the old year to trickle through my fingers like the grains of the red sand that I was absentmindedly playing with, and in doing so, making way for the new.
