How to Find Real Friends

Oct 13, 2026, Day after
Indigenous Peoples Day

I’ve been making myself leave the apartment instead of wallowing in pain about my friend’s death.

Yesterday, on social media, I happened to see a stranger’s comment: An Indian prayer circle in Wingfield Park would start soon. The park is a five-minute walk from my apartment.

I went to Wingfield, but no one was there. Then I saw two women in ribbon skirts. They were down a ways, across the street. I scurried after them. Lost them at one point after they turned a corner, but found them. They kindly pointed me to the correct location: a small green that is technically part of Wingfield Park.

I never found an official event announcement, so I didn’t know if a non-Native could attend.

Everyone welcomed me. Some of them scooped me up. One woman cheerfully told me that she was A.I.M’s (American Indian Movement’s) Sicilian-American delegate to the city council.

I learned that A.I.M hosted the circle. There were twenty of us.

There were no picnic benches. I walk well, can dance like a fool, but can’t stand in place for long at all. It becomes painful quickly. So I walked while I listened.

Then we went around the circle, introducing ourselves. I gave my name and explained why I was walking. I said I hoped it wasn’t distracting. Someone said that was fine, probably the woman who led the circle.

In a bit, that leader had an extra moment and asked if I wanted a chair. That was good. Taking big steps forward and occasional turns are great, but walking tightly around in a wee circle to stay close enough to hear everyone had quickly become painful.

Preparing to leave before the ritual ended, I left the ceremonial circle. I wanted to get home before dark, instead of being on the street alone at night.

Synchronistically, the ritual leader had left the circle momentarily and was standing right by me. So I had a chance to thank her and say goodbye.

During the ceremony, I did not catch her name and didn’t ask for it during our goodbye because I knew she had to get back to her role as facilitator.

But she stopped to hug me. I’m not much for physical contact with strangers, but I let her hug me. We kept patting each other’s backs. It was a long, perfect hug.

My eyes started to water a tiny bit. I was surprised.

She looked closely into my face for a mere split second, clearly recognized something, and said a few words. I only caught the last one: spirit. Maybe she said, “Oh two-spirit.” Or “Oh your spirit.”

Whatever the words, she said them tenderly, honestly, and succinctly. So I knew that she saw me. I started sobbing. I’d guess my sobs lasted less than twenty seconds. They stopped as quickly and as organically as they’d started. I was surprised by the tearful eruption, let alone it happening with a stranger. However, they were good, healthy tears, not morbid. She hugged me again.

Then, she said, “I love you.” I said, “I love you.”

The entire interaction that unfolded during our goodbye lasted two minutes. No excess words, emotions, or touch.

The entire goodbye experience was so out of the blue. But it was a perfect blessing.

She was so kind.

I cried again walking home.

I wonder if she and I will meet again. Or if we intertwined only momentarily, making both of us far richer before moving on.

The other participants were so lovely, too. I look forward to finding out if I will meet any of them again.

So mote it be!

A Shamanic Ritual

Our personal experiences reveal many life lessons. Sharing our stories shares those lessons. In Shamanic culture, everyone’s story is important, not just those in movies and books. I am often guided to tell my stories when I teach Shamanism.

Pretend my real-life tale about the prayer circle is an allegory. What does the allegory tell you about finding real friends? How does the story define a real friend? What does the story say about being yourself out in the world? What does it tell you about going where you are led?

Perhaps you will find more than one answer to some or all of the questions because you need more than one.

If you do this ritual again a long time from now, your answers might be different from the ones you find now, if your needs have changed.

Francesca De Grandis is the best-selling author of the longtime classic Be a Goddess!. However, she focuses on oral tradition: Long-distance Witchcraft classes, psychic readings, and other services. Fifty years as a full-time community Shaman inform her work. Francesca was trained from birth in a European Shamanic family tradition of Celtic and Italian Witchcraft. She has lived this lesser-known Faerie Shamanism for 76 years. Her Goddess mysticism combines otherworldly travel with practical magic and down-to-earth wisdom.