In ADF, we spend much time focused on the center of the worlds, that place we enter in ritual that is all places and none, where a bright fire of our piety illuminates us and makes us bright, ourselves.
Calling Upon the CraneGaranus Crane, Garanus Crane, We call to you. Garanus Crane, Garanus Crane, We call to you. One foot on land, Garanus Crane, We call to you!
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There are many pathways that lead out from the center of the worlds, though: many trails and footpaths that run from this place where we gather at the fire, where we make sacrifice to the Kindreds, and where we draw the fabric of the cosmos together. These are the paths that make up our mundane lives.
It is on these pathways, these worn tracks and hidden ways, that we put the blessings of the Kindreds received in ritual through fire and water to work. It is in our journey through life, among friends and alone, that the work we do in ritual becomes the work we do in our lives.
The paths are sometimes lost in the forest, though, when they reach beyond the light of that good fire at the center of all: we can lose sight of the right way, forget the direction we were heading, or simply miss a step and find ourselves in a new place and a new time, one that is different and uncertain. It can be hard to know where to turn when the firelight is no longer warm against your face.
In the past, some who wander out from the fire have turned to a specific power to help guide them, a spirit of wetlands and far migration: liminal and otherworldly. This spirit is the Crane.
Graceful, stately, and patient, the Crane is a bird like no other: watchful, he waits for his catch, standing perfectly still on the edge of the waters. His gaze never waivers, his feathers are never ruffled. He watches, waits, and plans. The Crane understands the artfulness of the cosmos, the way it fits together and entwines, becoming whole.
And then, just when everything in the world has come together, a lightning fast strike shows that he understands exactly how all things have become part of the weft and warp of the cosmos, and he has acted in a way that is right, that meshes with this artful universe.
The Crane we call on can best be described as a guide: he is not one to tell you what to do, or how to think: rather, he is one to simply show you the way.
The Crane is not a panacea for your life’s troubles, but a being who simply knows the ways: he stands at the center, between the realms and the worlds, and as such understands the nuances of each of these places he calls home. This is why he can be turned to for guidance and wisdom.
Those who turn to the Crane for guidance will find that they are met with patience and care: cranes do not rush in, nor do they wait too long. They are observers and thinkers, but they always act when the time is right and the action correct.
Thus the Order of the Crane is as well: patient and waiting for the entire story to unfold, but active and helpful when there is something that must be done. The Order is one of work and of joy in that work; it is also an Order of healing and transformation, of understanding the ways of life’s path and how we can best travel along it as whole beings.
Let us learn to take the work and the blessings we receive from the Kindreds in ritual and apply them to our everyday lives. Let us work with the Crane in ways that show us how we can be whole and how we can make others whole. Let us wait patiently until we understand the artfulness of the cosmos, and then act upon that artistic knowledge with skill and joy. Let us transform ourselves and each other as we walk along the path.
Let us call out to the Crane.
