Twas The Night Before The Night Before Christmas...

Sleeping In Heavenly Peace

Last week had been a big week for lessons. The biggest lesson being: I am not alone; Nor am I expected to handle everything on my own. It's funny because I couldn't possibly count the number of times I've told people that same thing in Medicine Card readings -- usually upon the appearance of Ant in the cards, bringing the medicine of Patience, along with the knowledge that you have an entire hive working with you. You are totally supported and no matter how small your piece of the puzzle looks, there are countless others working with you, carrying their own piece of the puzzle, toward the same goals.

It was kind of a lesson in 2 parts, starting roughly over the weekend when I was not feeling like myself. I was anxious and twitchy, over-stimulated and awash with self-doubt, going through an emotional ringer and feeling very much alone -- and yet needing to be alone. I had a couple of plans that weekend which I cancelled because I really did feel the need to be alone and go inside to sort things out. This actually resulted in 3 different friends who I haven't talked to in months, calling me, and each conversation made me cry as each one reconnected with me and reminded me of who I am, and what I mean to them. One friend called specifically because she heard I had cancelled the plans because I'd hit a rough patch and she wanted to make sure I was alright. And being a Vedic Astrolger, she knew she had information that would help give my feelings a context on a higher perspective. Not only am I not alone because I have friends that care about me -- even after months of no contact -- but also in being connected to others going through very similar trials on their path of growth because of the ebb and flow of cosmic energies, as well as the synchronized growth of the collective unconscious.

Then I found out that one of my closest friends was in the hospital, and the doctors weren't sure what was wrong. I tried to set my crummy feelings aside and went to see her for a couple days in a row to cheer her and to give her reiki. After the second night I was in pretty bad shape. I had a terrible head-ache and was getting progressively more nauseous. I thought I had put pretty good protection around me, like my teacher taught us, and I had called on my guides to walk with me and hold me in light, but still found the atmosphere there to be extremely oppressive with feelings of despair and hopelessness, as well as this very uncomfortable separation from the earth and anything natural.

Anyway, when I got home the second night, another friend called me to see how I was doing, and when we got off the phone she started working long-distance healing on me, helping to clear all of my chakras. Meanwhile, I prayed to my guides for help, particularly Jeshua and Mother Mary. Jeshua is always there, and I have a very strong connection with Mother Mary -- I think I've mentioned before how every night as a teenager, while lying in bed saying my rosary before falling asleep, I would feel her presence hovering over me and felt her energy wrap around me like angel wings. Well, that was exactly what I asked for now. I needed comforting, and I needed revitalization big time. And I needed to know that all this stuff is real -- that I really wasn't alone and did have guides looking over me.

As I fell asleep I felt Jeshua standing at my bedside, Mary's familiar angel wings enveloping me, and I got the image of my Upper World guide, Fred, pulling up some covers to tuck me in. I felt totally surrounded in, and infused with love -- totally relaxed and soaking it in like a sponge. And again I wonder, " How could I ever doubt these things?!" I don't remember the last time I had such a restful night's sleep!

The next morning on my way to work, feeling 500% better, Jeshua told me, with that ever-present twinkle, "Stop pushing so hard and enjoy the ride for awhile!" Duh! I had been really pushing lately, thinking it was up to me, and me alone, to figure out everything in my life and forgetting that I am not alone and all I really need to do is let go and allow things to flow, be like water, and trust.

Okay. So I will stop 'pushing the river' and will try to remember that all I have to do is steer the ship -- There are others whose job and joy it is to fill my sails.

Thank you guys! Second star to the right and straight on til morning!...

Every Footstep

I seem to have crossed another new threshold. This past week, for the first time ever, I posted, as my facebook status, a quote I received directly from one of my own guides, as opposed to reprinting a quote from someone else or one of their guides. Might not sound like a big deal, but it seemed a pretty significant step to me.

So it had been a rough couple of weeks and I was talking to Fred, my Upper World spirit teacher, and saying how all this stuff was coming up lately that I thought I'd already dealt with years ago. It felt like I was going backwards. Fred, in his ever calm, patient, smiling manner, said --

"Every step is a step forward. Your internal pedometer doesn't have a reverse."

It was something I had kind of realized before, but the way he put it just seemed so profound and yet so simple. And it was exactly the perfect thing that I needed to hear.

I'm not sure what prompted me to post it, but I did it with hardly a thought about it. I guess it just seemed like something that needed to be shared, and in retrospect I realize it was also a way of taking another step into my power and claiming my abilities. I do talk to spirits and they do have a certain tendency to say some pretty prfound things. Apparently it is time to start sharing those things rather than playing it safe and keeping them to myself. I've been feeling lately like I really need tobuild more confidence, but I guess posting something in public, that you and ou alone heard, in your head, from a spirit, probably demostrates a certain degree of confidence, huh? ...probably...

Anyway, the quote itself reminded me of a song I'd written about 15 years ago, which I also wanted to share here as well:

EVERY FOOTSTEP

Here I stand where my heart is free

The Universe arrayed about me

With every possible path laid at my feet

Every time my pathway changes

All the Universe rearranges

To bring my back where circles are complete

Every moment is a new beginning

And every heart beat is a new song singing

And I wonder where I thought I might have been

No matter how far I may seem to journey

There's just no way to leave eternity

And every footstep brings me home again

With my heart I realign

In clarity the choice is mine

For what it is I truly wish to find

I choose my path in perfect freedom

Knowing each way fin'ly leads on

To the place we've never left behind

And every moment is a new beginning

And every heart beat is a new song singing

And I wonder where I thought I might have been

No matter how far I may seem to journey

There's just no way to leave eternity

And every footstep brings me home again

Brings me home

Once again

Reindeer Games

Over Thanksgiving I got to go back to visit my family in Minnesota. I only had a couple of days, so it was a shorter than normal stay, and because of that I decided to spend it just with my family rather than trying to hook up with friends who still live there.

It is an old long-held family tradition that the Friday after Thanksgiving is the day to get the Christmas tree. It was nice to be able to take part in this since we didn't get to observe the other old long-held family tradition -- that the day before Thanksgiving is the day to go see Santa Claus at Dayton's department store (I think they were bought out by Macy's) in St Paul. They always have a theme, like Mary Poppins, Willy Wonka, Winnie-the-Pooh, and set up animatronics to tell the story as you walk through this labyrinthine path on the way to see Santa.

So anyway, we were heading out across a blustery snow-covered field toward the trees, and my brother had brought along sleds to pull his youngest and a young cousin on. At one point I took the rope that tied the sleds together and just started sprinting across the field, with them laughing gleefully in tow. Not that this is something I wouldn't have done anyway, but when I was done I thought to myself, "Where did that come from?" I mean I had just been champing at the bit to get a hold of the rope since my brother first brought it out.

I shrugged it off and went to help my parents cut their tree, saying prayers to the spirit of the tree, thanking it for giving up its life in the woods and giving it an image of the joy it would bring my family when all lit up in their livingroom. I got the feeling that, since this was a Christmas tree farm, the trees having been planted with that intention and purpose in mind, as well as picking up the thoughts and feelings of countless people through the years trodging through their woodland home, had some idea of what they were in for, and were happy to be a part of this celebration.

Once the tree came down, and my parents had walked away a little bit, I gave an offering to the spirit of the tree and the spirits of the place, again thanking them for their gift. Tobacco is the normal offering of choice, but not having any with me for the trip, I followed what a friend had told me her teacher had taught her -- If you have nothing else to give, leave a bit of your hair. So I left a bit of hair tucked into the stump, with a bit of excitement at the thought of becoming part of some bird's nest.

As my parents sorted out the extra branches and boughs that my mom would turn into a wreath, I walked off toward where my brother's family were scouting out trees. I was walking along this little ridge when, out of the corner of my third eye I saw movement through the snow down below. Images of Nathaniel, my reindeer power animal flashed through my mind and I realized he was running through the snow, kicking up his hooves, and bellowing for all he was worth. Someone was happy to be playing in the snow and the cold! I couldn't help smiling, thinking of how excited he must be to trade rainy ole Seatle for the chance to dig his hooves and antlers into snow again.

"Ah!" I thought. That explains the sled pulling. Nathaniel has come through before when I've been dancing, but this was a little different, and I got the distinct feeling that it was under his influence that pulling the sleds looked so appealing!

I found my brother and, after more prayers, and more hair offerings to his fallen tree, I headed back to where my parent's tree was still lying in the snow. I thought, "Alright Nathaniel. Here we go!" And I picked up the bottom of the tree and dragged it, back across the tundra of the fields, to where the cars were. Apparently I surprized my dad who thought it would take at least two of us to move the hefty tree.

Actually it did take two of us... :)

Waking Dreams

I mentioned a week and a half ago (A Pair of Sweats) going to a Dream Retreat for my Shaman Class, and I'd intended on writing a lot about it because it was very powerful and transforming. Then I realized that a lot of it probably wasn't translatable -- a proverbial "You had to be there" scenario.

Then last night I was talking to my friend who is in the program with me, and in the course of sharing things we'd each written at the retreat, it hit me how profound it really was -- I hadn't read it since the retreat, and it hadn't hit me that way at the time. "I think you need to read that every day," she said. "Yeah... I think you're right... wow..."

So to make it easier and more accessible for me to read, and remind me of what took place that weekend, I thought I'd put here what I wrote. I should probably give some context first...

Like I said, this was a shamanic dream retreat. The 2nd day we had spent working on our Life Dreams -- making a list of what we wished for in our lives and constructing affirmations to aid us in getting there. We ended up with two affirmations each -- one for our most outrageous wish and one for our most doable wish. My two affirmations were:

"I am powerfully magickal and I gleefully celebrate the most whimsical manifestations!"

and

"I courageously allow my True Self to shine. My light-heartedness and innocence are contagious."

I actually received a 3rd because, when someone asked, "But which one is your outrageous wish?" and I answered, "The first one. I wished for a Delorean!" my teacher, amidst the laughter, said:

"I have the vehicle of my dreams in every area of my life, that I may be transported to the places, and in the ways, that have deep heart and meaning."

...how cool is that? :)

That night, then, we were going to do some real dream work. My teacher has worked with some beings she called Dream Walkers, and they had agreed to help us that night. Twice in the wee hours, as we slept, they came through, speaking through our teacher's assistants and reading all the affirmations that had been compiled earlier. It felt very 'Star Trek' as they spoke in this voice that was monotone and sing-songy at the same time. When they came in, we were to wake up and write, whatever came into our minds -- messages from the Dream Walkers to each of us individually. This is what I wrote:

Thank you for your presence and your connection... Your bravery and courage is much appreciated... There is much good work to be done and there is much to be done... Blessed one know well that your life has now changed, and as you change, so changes the world. It is only through your own fulfilment that so too the world is expanded, and thus the mind of God. Congratulations. You have... Know well that you and your world are changed and expanded from this point. We can not tell how much you affect the whole... You are loved. You are appreciated. You are beautiful. Listen to us as we weave into your life. Welcome home. Never underestimate your role or your power.

Much good is done through your willingness and your unique expression of the divine. Blessed are you beloved one. You are so deeply loved. Already has the Universe rejoiced in your presence. Thank you. Yes we are here. Yes we are real. And yes we are love. Come dance with us... Your future awaits, individually and collectively. Be at peace and know we hold you in Safety and Truth. You can not possibly realize how much hope you bring to the world around you that cries out for love.

I fell asleep. Later in the morning I woke up, but as I was about to roll over and go back to sleep, I heard something. Here came the Dream Walkers into the room. So, bleary eyed I picked up my pen and wrote:

Know well you are part of the process... We are pleased by your willingness to embrace the unknown and Awaken, Awaken to your self and your place among the universe.

You have a gift dear one. Let it shine, let it heal.

Finally, we'd been told that first thing when we awoke in the morning, to connect once more and write any last messages we might receive from them. I wrote (slightly more legibly):

Well done beloved one. Thank you for your courage and willingness to be vulnerable. You will never be the same... Your place in the mystery is precious and we hold you and celebrate you as sacred and truly it is our joy to dance with you and weave the threads of your dreams into the tapestry of the Great Mystery. Love, Dear one. Always love. There is nothing else. And so we play through the dance of the stars through endless nights and days, Creator rejoices. Blessed are you dear one. You have no idea the walls you've broken down and the trails you have blazed. For yourself, for your collective, and for your world.

Well done dear one.

Well done indeed.

Heron My Soup

It had been a week of aha moments and revelations. Between a painful break-up and the death of a favorite aunt there had been a lot of transformation and change. My head and my heart have been very muzzy (one of my favorite terms which I half thought I'd made up, then discovered that John Keats used it -- "Great minds..." ;)) but, as I tend to forget while still inside such states, this is the primordial soup for growth and learning.

So during that time while I was reading Medicine Cards at a local bookstore, seeing as I had my cards out already (I never seem to think of pulling them out for myself -- go fig!) I pulled one just to see who would pop up. My old friend Heron! His message is largely about self-reflection. The only thing is that he was reversed... D'oh! In reverse Heron speaks about too much self-reflection being not such a good thing which bogs you down. One of Heron's attributes is standing tall, connected to the earth yet standing over the water (emotions). If Heron is not standing upright, he's getting mired in the muck of the pond.

And this affects me how? In the break-up I became aware, through parting words, of character traits, issues, and such, that I needed to work on. And so I whole-heartedly began examining these things, turning over every single little item to see if it were true or not, to find out what was wrong with me, and how I needed to improve. Boy, that pond water gets murky in a hurry with so much self-reflection splashing and floundering around in it!

The thing that finally occurred to me is that, yes, relationships are mirrors for us, with each individual seeing themselves reflected in the other, BUT just because someone sees something mirrored in me does not mean that that something is actually there. The clearer a mirror I become, by becoming more and more authentic, the more clearly others will see themselves in me, including and especially the stuff they don't want to see. There's a whole Zen-connection thing here about being like water and reflecting the geese flying overhead without holding on to them. It is good to look at what the other sees in me, but trust my heart as to whether it needs to be changed, or even whether it is there at all. If I am already living from my heart, being my true self, then I already know whether those things are true or not, and I know that I'm not perfect and that I'm doing my best, so that I can be gentle with myself as I change and adjust (If I choose to change), even if others aren't treating me that way.

That is not to say that I am a perfectly clear, unblemished, and undistorted mirror. Nor is it to say, "Nanny-nanny-boo-boo! I have nothing to learn from you!"

On the flip-side, just because I see something in someone else doesn't mean it's actually there. This seems to be where not judging someone else comes in because, what it looks like to me may be something totally different to the other person. Whatever it is, it is my own reflection.

Have you ever noticed that while looking at your shadow on the ground you can't tell if it's looking toward or away from you? It looks the same either way. Often, exact opposites look exactly the same! What I'm seeing in someone else could be exactly the opposite of what I think I see.

Or what I'm seeing as a whole is only a tip-of-the-iceberg that I can't or won't understand without a bigger perspective. That's a bit of a mind blower.

The other thing I realized is that the reflections are also not time-sensitive, meaning that what I'm seeing in someone else may not be a current image but actually something from the past. I find that people tend to think of things happening in a circle with the same things happening over and over again. I do that all the time -- "Holy crap! What am I doing back here again?!" Actually I've discovered that I'm on an ever rising spiral so it may feel like I'm going in a circle, or even going backwards, but every time I encounter the 'same' things coming around, I am actually seeing it from a different, higher perspective. The past is constantly being mirrored to me in order to see it and say, "Ah yes. I've been there before, and look how far I've come since then!" In this case I felt the opportunity to give a past-self of mine the patience and compassion that he didn't get when I was going through similar circumstances. I felt parts of me healing that I didn't know were there.

So there is still some pain present, and some befuddlement, over what happened, but like Heron I've been able to stand tall again with a bit more perspective and surety about my own path as I snatch up the nourishing morsels of insight that swim into my reflection on the water, and, unlike the proverbial 'dog with the bone,' I learn to recognize the difference between my self and my image.

A Pair of Sweats

This past weekend for my Shaman Class we went on a "Dream Retreat." As part of the weekend, Friday night (or actually Saturday morning) they offered an optional sweat lodge. Of course most of the people jumped at the chance and, in fact there were so many of us there that they actually did 3 lodges that night, the last one going in around 3:30 in the morning.

Anyway, for the second time in just over a week I chose not to take part in an opportunity to sweat. Both times were kind of soul-searching moments for me, and though I wrestled with it, doubted myself, and almost went against it, I finally ended up following my guidance to not participate. It was a bit confusing as I wondered why wouldn't it be good for me to do a sweat lodge? I've done them before and they are very healing and very sacred -- so what was the problem, especially since White Buffalo Calf Woman, the one who brought these ceremonies to the people, has become almost a personal guide and adoptive Mother to me?

In both cases I was given this interesting vision where I saw the lodge, and I watched my path unfold nearby, but not through, the lodge. I kept hearing, "It's not your path."

The first one was easy enough to let go of, partially because I was able to fill in as a fire tender and so still take an active part in the ceremony. I also knew this second lodge was coming up and I assumed I'd do that one, especially since it was part of the retreat. I still felt slightly embarrassed at the first one, and timidly asked the woman pouring the lodge (the one who runs the lodge and 'pours' the water on the heated rocks) if it were okay for me to stay outside, as if I needed permission. I'm still learning that following my guidance is enough of a reason not to do something, no matter what others may think -- which may actually be the main reason I was guided not to go into either lodge: To listen to my own guidance over the opinion of others. Spiritual peer-pressure is an interesting thing.

I did get my second chance about a week later, but as excited as I was for the retreat, my heart chakra was very closed -- to the point of being painful. For some reason every time I thought of the lodge, my chest would tighten, and having been raised in this particular society, I assumed it meant that it was something I had to do to overcome my feelings about, and just push through it for my own good. But the closer we got to lodge time, the tighter my chest got, and the more clouded my mind became. Then, on the example of my teacher and some TAs, I just sat quietly and asked my heart 3 times what was right for me. The 3 times eventually became probably 300, but every time I asked, I would see that same vision of my path bypassing the sweat lodge. The thought of going inside made me feel tight and anxious while the thought of abstaining felt light and freeing.

As I finally, tentatively, made the decision to pass on the experience, I began to feel more myself again, as my self-confidence returned along with a clearer head. "Interesting..." I thought. Martha Beck talks about the "shackles on and shackles off" response -- how certain things make you feel free and others are restrictive, and how that really is the basics of listening to your intuition. So I had my answer. Easy enough. Sometimes things are difficult because it means you're going the wrong way and need to change direction, duh!! The tricky part would be to stick by my answer despite what others may think.

I actually had nothing to worry about, and the few people I told about my decision were supportive, even if they didn't understand. Even my dear friend, who is taking this program with me, and who really wanted me to go into lodge with her. Still I was very self-conscious about it and kept my decision mostly to myself, and just curled up deeper into my sleeping bag when the group I would have been in, went into lodge at 3:30am. Fleeting thoughts and doubts flew through my mind on my motivations, my fear being that it was fear holding me back. But then I fell asleep.

The next day my friend came to me and told me I had been in lodge. "Really?" I asked rather surprised. She said yes, and told me how she'd seen and felt my presence there very strongly, like I was helping watch over and hold space for everyone there. I laughed because that had been my intention as I'd fallen asleep, thinking about the circle of women outside who were on their moon-time, and thus being considered to be too powerful to be in lodge, who were acting as the visionaries for the lodges. I actually felt more drawn to, and comfortable, with that role rather than being inside, and had even joked to my friend earlier that maybe I was just on my period.

My friend admitted to me about being disappointed at my physical absence from the lodge, but said that when she inquired to her guides, they told her, "It's not his path." I was dumbstruck for a moment and then threw my arms around my friend, whispering, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Then I told her about my vision, and the exact words I had heard from my guides. Up to that point I had still been a bit unsure of myself, but you can't get much clearer validation than that!

Later I talked to one of the people who were in charge of the lodges and mentioned that I hadn't gone in. The response was interesting, and I recognized it as the one I'd expected all along --The feeling that I'd skipped the lodge out of fear. Now with the solid validity of my experience, it didn't phase me -- "Ah, we'll getcha' sooner or later. Ya can't run forever!"

Blast From the Past

I have one or two other posts that I'm in the middle of writing at the moment (it's amazing how little you can actually get written during an hour lunch break) but felt I wanted to post this anyway.

I am going on a retreat tomorrow with my new shaman class, and I am really kind of anxious about it. I'm confused about that because logically it's not that big of a deal, and on the contrary, should be a refreshing experience. But I am anxious, to the point of my heart chakra actually having been in a bit of pain, despite a heart-clearing exercise we did in class tonight.

Part of it was that I was starving, so I stopped at a grocery store on the way home to get something to eat. As I was walking out of the store, it suddenly occurred to me that this is how I felt before my vision quest a year and a half ago. Okay, so something big is in the works! That alone helped me calm some, as I took the tension to be a good sign of powerful changes to unfold this weekend.

Then I got home, and was looking through some partially used notebooks, to see which one I could bring with me as a journal for the retreat, when in one, near the back, totally random, I discovered something I had written down that Jeshua had told me in a meditation a long time ago.

I don't have any idea how long ago I wrote it down, or even what circumstances originally prompted it, but it was obvious I was meant to get this message now...

"Beloved one, you are following your heart so how can any harm befall you? Yes, there may be pain and there may be hurt, but they are a sign of growth. You are yet unharmed. And the tears! Rejoice in the cleansing tears! How often have you wanted to cry the tears yet they have refused to flow? This too is good, and only part of your growth, and are to be celebrated!

You are loved and you are safe, my little Robin in the hood. You will come through this and you will be amazed at who and how you are on the other side. Be at peace and know that it is all in Divine Order."

...Thank you Jeshua. Aho!

Going Batty

It's been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon. But, although I attended college nearby, I no longer live there, so my week was not so quiet -- emotionally anyway.


I have been sorting out my feelings and the lessons of a short-lived relationship that, in many ways while it lasted, was probably the best I've been in. Its ending, however, has been one of the most difficult experiences I've known, and I am still finding my path through it as the dust finally begins to settle.


I'm also sorting out the fine line between writing my experiences here while respecting the privacy of the other person involved -- Writing my story without telling hers. We both had our individual lessons to learn, neither one good or bad, although I am very pleased that in all the support I've gotten through this, no one has tried to make me feel better by degrading her.


Anyway, until I sort these things out, I will probably hold off saying much more, although I have had a few interesting insights. While driving the other morning it suddenly sank in emotionally rather than just mentally, that it really is all about me. Everything I was feeling, the future I was facing, the challenges, the thoughts, the doubts -- all me! I really could let her go to take care of herself and get on with living my life. And to add emphasis to this revelation, I looked up just in time to see a seagull swoop up over my car, followed by two little white splotches on my windshield. This is actually considered good luck in many cultures, and Seagull representing cleaning up the environment (which I had just done by clearing my mind of a bunch of things) as well as communication (which had been a sticking point especially at the end) seemed the perfect messenger.


After that I was thinking back on this most recent death/rebirth cycle of mine, and the thought of Bat came into my mind. Bat represents shamanic death, and this current one has been a doozy, but in a flash of recognition I suddenly realized part of the significance -- Bat hangs from the ceiling of the cave... Everything to Bat is upside down... My whole world had just been turned upside down... Huh...

A Song

I had a lot I wanted to tell you

But it ended all too soon.

I never even got the chance

To lasso you the moon.

And it seems the past has blinded you,

The pain you've felt too long,

From seeing someone loves you enough

To write for you a song.

I hope one day my memory

Alights upon your mind,

Once the pain has faded,

After the fears unwind,

And it brings a smile

Because you can clearly see

How much I have loved you

And what you've meant to me.

But my love could never bind you,

So I'll have to let you go.

I just wish before you went

That I could let you know

That someone sees you there behind

The pain you've felt too long,

That truly someone loves you enough

To write for you a song.

Down And Out

It has been one heck of a weekend. For at least a week I've been feeling a bit down, but I just chalked that up to events going on around me -- the on set of Winter with her shorter periods of sunlight, as well as possibly taking on some of the challenges currently facing friends and loved ones.

This past weekend, however, having spent the majority of both days sleeping on the couch, and not in a refreshing, recharging-batteries, kind of way but because I just didn't have the energy or emotional stamina to do anything else. Trying to move felt like moving through a thick soup of some sort. I lay there absolutely drained, in the midst of heaviness, sadness, loneliness, and other such states, along with a stomach that would not settle down, I realized this was too familiar an experience to be anyone else's stuff but my own. The flash backs of an anxiety and depression soaked existence began to haunt me and I began to recognize the familiar thoughts floating through my mind, mostly in the form of a single question, "What's wrong with me?" I felt exasperated -- Haven't I gone through this enough times already? Haven't I grown past it yet?

And my dreams of late have been intense, bizarre, and not very restful at all, contributing to my tiredness and edginess. I've wondered if that has anything to do with the retreat we are going on in a couple weeks for my shamna class -- a retreat specifically on dreams. I will also be participating in two separate sweat lodges coming up in a two week period. So it's understandable that there are a lot of things moving to be cleared right now. I've heard that from the time you agree to take part in a ceremony such as a sweat lodge or this retreat, you actually are already beginning the processes that take place at such ceremonies.

As my Reiki teacher friend asked tonight, as we hugged good night after a Halloween dinner we'd both attended -- "Another shamanic death?" "Uh-huh..." I replied with a sigh. And it wasn't lost on me the timing of this particular death/rebirth on Samhain -- Halloween -- when the veil between the worlds is the thinnest.

But at least I have grown. At least I am beginning to recognize when these things start -- maybe not right away, but it only takes a day or two. It's still not fun or easy, but knowing what's going on helps alot. And unlike the past, I was able to eventually overcome my immobility, in order to ground and clear myself enough to do around 10 card readings last night. I also, despite my slothful heaviness, was able to have the following text conversation with my friend yesterday. I responded to a text from her by telling her I was feeling "kinda out of it and kinda depressed," and as she continued to fail to reply to each of my responses, the following texts just slowly, one by one, trickled out...

"Could be cuz I fell asleep w/ my laptop on my solar plexus..."

"...I think it sucked out my soul..."

"...And right this moment someone is buying it on ebay..."

"...which means I'll probly have 2 reincarnate as an amoeba next time 2 start building a new soul..."

"...Especially since I lost the receipt for the first 1..."

Newton -- Go 'Fig'

It's funny how little things keep coming back again and again and again. I drew the above comic many years ago, but in case you can't read, in the bottom left panel, the third book title listed, (yes, the one after "The Scarlet Pimpernel In Outer Space") reads "Living A Quantum Reality In A Newtonian World." Now, when I drew it, that was just another seemingly complex-sounding title amongst the other whimsical and obscure books, but at the same time, that title has stuck with me up to the present -- Til just yesterday actually, when it popped into my head again.

I've been struggling a little lately, dealing with some interesting situations, and along with the gathering darkness of the shortening days, I've found myself starting to slide into a bit of a depression. Things have been getting a bit heavy, and I've been feeling like I'm constantly having to exert great deals of energy just to stand up straight and not be bowled over by the stuff going on around me. Then I remembered the Newtonian thing and the lights went on.

To me the Newtonian, or "old physics," world is the world of cause and effect, duality, mechanical clock-work, separation, and as one friend put it once -- "mountain v.s. mountain." It is a seemingly lifeless, unmagickal, unenchanted reality, and when I get caught in it I get depressed. In fact, looking back at the "Anxiety Years" of my life, I can clearly see that all the anxiety, fear, worry, doubts, crises, were due to not being able to see beyond this world.

I am not denying the physical world, it's existence, or it's purpose. We are here for a reason and it's not going to do anyone any good to ignore certain things -- gravity for instance. It's just getting trapped into thinking that it is all there is to reality -- and "trapped" is the perfect word! -- is a pretty bleak place to be, at least for me -- your friendly neighborhood unicorn. -:)

In fact, one of the first things I did that turned me around during those years was to hang a print of a famous painting on the wall: Midsummer Eve by Arthur Hughes --

This picture became a life line to me, and I'm not exaggerating when I say that. This became a portal connecting me to the unseen world, reminding me that there is more to reality than meets the eye. Every time I'd look at it my spirits would lighten exponentially as I recognized the "other" world, the world that lies behind and supports the three dimensional world, the world that the Newtonian world is made from -- the Quantum world. It reminds me of the phrase, "Be in the world, not of the world."

There is a river that runs through my soul, and that river is called "Whimsy." It's waters feed and bathe my very spirit. It can not exist in the Newtonian world -- not without a portal connecting it with the other world, the Quantum world from which it springs -- literally.

MY world, my reality, is a quantum reality. I live in a holographic universe. Every cell, every atom, every quark is a living, vibrant, intelligent, faery light of a being. Every cell, atom, and quark is connected, connected in a great playful dance, for they are part of the same being -- there is no separation in my world. I am part of that dance, of that being, that laughing rainbow Mother Goddess of us all. We are in Her, and She is in us. The Universe is alive and bursting with intelligence, with humor, with light, and with love. Our Mother Universe is Love. And that truly is all you need.

...so why would I want to live in any other world?... -;)

All In Gest

It was the 2nd of a weekly class I have recently begun with a new shamanic teacher. This one is slightly different from any others I've taken, though, in that it is ultimately a 3 year program. I was quite excited, having heard rave reviews from numerous sources about this teacher, including a dear friend who has had private sessions with her, and who is taking this class with me because of those personal interactions. I also find it amusing that I've been involved in the drum circle of this teacher's mother, who in fact is the one who taught the drum-making class where I made my drum, Cougar Moon, before I ever had a clue that the two women are related.

Anyway, I was furiously writing, trying to keep up with the profound phrases that just seem to flow from my teacher's tongue, when without warning or fanfare, my stomach just suddenly sank. A couple minutes later, when the teacher called our break, I suddely felt anxious and a little bit nauseous. It felt like I had a huge, tight knot in my belly. Not very pleasant.

After getting some water, which did nothing to alleviate the discomfort, I explained to my friend what was going on. She looked at me, and with a smirk on her face she replied, "Maybe you're pregnant." I looked her straight in the eye and said, "You know, there is something I've been meaning to tell you..." She laughed and asked if she could feel. "Okay, but in some places that means we're married now."

She is a Reiki Master, in fact the one who attuned me, so I welcomed her input if she could either make it feel better, or atleast tell me what's going on -- what issues are at the core of the feelings. So we stood there for a minute or two with her hand on my stomach, then she finally said, "I think you really are gestating something."

We started walking back to the class room and I joked, "Well I guess we'll see what happens in 9 months!"

I stopped short. "Holy crap!" It struck us both at the same time that this First Year class was 9 months long...

So I guess we will see what happens in 9 months, and who I will be reborn as... :)

Psycho-Pomp And Circumstance

It is so fascinating how different elements of the past mesh and meld to come together and create something greater than its parts. It makes me grateful for all my experiences, no matter how seemingly insignificant or negative, because the chaotic meanderings of the past suddenly fall into patterns from the perspective of the present. Martha Beck talks about living life backwards, starting from here and now and tracing it backwards to see all the little "random" and "chance" happenings that had to take place for you to be where you are now. "Oh! That's why that happened!" Suddenly these things aren't so random anymore and it becomes apparent how the Universe happens on purpose, for your highest good, to get you to where you need to go.


And so it is, I can look back and see all the things that have led up to this past week when I find myself taking on a role that totally makes sense to me, and I realize it's probably time I finally claim it. What role is that, you may ask? In my ever-expanding shamanic repertoire, I discovered I've become a Psycho Pomp -- or more accurately, an Animal Psycho Pomp.

Of course I know that you know what that is, but for the benefit of the others reading over your shoulder who might not, a psycho pomp is someone who guides souls that are crossing over to the afterlife. Traditionally through mythology this was the domain of the likes of Charon (the Greek ferryman of the dead), Hermes, the Valkyries, and Anubis. Those beings are still there and available for aid in this work, but especially with the excessive population growth, this kind of work is, and probably will be, more in demand as the volume of souls crossing over increases. From my understanding and experience, though, the ones most in need of this kind of work are those souls who died tragically and/or quickly, and don't realize they are dead. I won't go into the intricacies of how this overlaps with ghosts and hauntings, etc, mostly because that lies outside my personal experience and expertise, but if you are interested in learning more about that aspect, check out my friend Kelly's meetup group "Haunted Healings."

Where did this kind of thing start for me? I think being raised Catholic had a huge influence, giving me a great framework for the hereafter, not to mention the fact that I used to talk to my dead relatives all the time (although, at this point they weren't talking back... yet -- at least as far as I could hear). So, in the mid 90s when Oakbridge University -- the same group that does the Jeshua channelings I attend -- began doing a Spiritual Rescue Group, I already had a solid foundation to build on.

So, once a week I found myself sitting in a meditative circle with about 4 or 5 others, opening to help those who had passed on but didn't yet know it. Because their focus was still in this direction rather than moving on to the Light, our job was to connect with them and either help them understand they were no longer alive and turn them around toward the Light, or just get their attention so that light workers on the other side could come and help them.

So I sat there week after week after week -- and that's all I did. But even though I hadn't quite opened up to my psychic skills yet I had some interesting experiences all the same. One of the women would mention that the "little people" were present (and usually gathering around my feet), and I began to recognize the tingling feeling that would run between my feet and knees just before she would say something. Another time while I sat there, I felt this energy start whirling up from the floor all around me. It was so strong that one of the other people felt it and asked what was going on with me. I explained to the group what I was feeling and the one who had asked the question started to describe a woman who was embracing me -- A 'cousin-in-law' who I felt very close to and who had many months earlier taken her own life. The message she gave me through this other person in the group was gratitude for helping her after she passed (I had been praying and sending light and love like crazy!) and she said it was very easy to love me. At that point I felt a small peck on my lips -- kissed by her spirit, then she was gone.

Finally after months and months there came a significant night. I sat there as usual, a bit frustrated because everyone else was seeing things and helping spirits, and I didn't feel I was doing anything. Suddenly onto my mental screen burst this scene -- A man being dragged by his dogsled! I began talking really, really fast trying to catch all the details of what I was seeing. Then I discovered I didn't have to, because others started to describe the same scene, including details I hadn't yet gotten around to voicing. This man was so concerned for the safety of his dogs that his spirit kept hanging on to the dogsled, not realizing that he was dead. I don't know when his death had occurred -- There is no time in that realm so these scenarios can repeat in an endless loop until the person realizes what's happening -- and that's where we came in. Somehow by our talking to him, we broke that cycle and he was able to get the sled under control and stopped. Then I believe it was his dogs (all being dead as well, since this had happened long ago in our reality) who came and escorted him into the light.

Since then I have from time to time helped spirits who had suddenly come to me just out of the blue -- usually with the aid of Jeshua or deceased family members of the lost soul -- to find their way to the Light. But being who I am, I was constantly drawn to the animal kingdom, and would 'check in' with the spirits of road kill animals whenever I saw them. The interesting thing is that, very rarely did I need to help them find the light -- particularly 'wild' animals. Still, I did find myself helping others:

For the most part, at least from my experiences, even domestic animals don't tend to have that much trouble passing and moving to the light...

And so, this past week or two I shouldn't have been so surprised to find myself again in that role. Out of the blue, a friend from my psychic development class referred two separate people, one right after the other, to me because they each had a pet -- a cat and a dog -- who was close to passing. I am always pleasantly caught by surprise at people's faith in me, particularly since, though Animal Communication was originally the main focus for my path and work after that class, it is probably the area of least confidence for me.

The really funny thing is that, even when I was learning Animal Communication, I found it easier to communicate with dead animals than with live ones. In fact, one time we were assigned to read the pets of friends, preferably ones we hadn't met, and so I tried to talk to a friend's cat in Wisconsin. I got lots of info, and felt really good about it, until I got the feedback from my friend. It was something along the lines of, "Well, I could kind of see how that could be true and I suppose if you looked at it this other way, the other thing you said kind of fits..." Not quite the stellar validation I'd hoped for. On an intuitive hit, I asked her again if there were, or had been, any other animals there, living or dead, because sometimes the wires get crossed and I might be picking up on someone else. If it's possible to experience a dramatic pause through email, this was it. Then her response came back and her excitement burst at me from her words. EVERY thing I said fit perfectly with her cat that had passed some time before that. I had been talking to her dead cat!

Anyway, I won't go into details of these latest couple of cases in order to protect privacy (and because this entry has probably rambled on long enough already :)), but the best part of this kind of work is feeling the extreme joy and ecstasy the individual animal experiences once they are free of the confines of the physical body. The cat actually showed me his wings as he zipped around, and I kept seeing the dog in a dead run (no pun intended --) joyously sprinting across a field with tongue hanging out of her mouth, flapping in the wind.

Animals tend to be not as connected to the physical body as humans do, and I find, particularly toward the end of their lives, and especially during the seemingly most painful periods, their spirit is many times either partly or wholly not present, which allows them, firstly, to detach from the suffering and, secondly, to go off in order to explore the possibilities for the next step on their individual path.

And I find that it's not really for the animal's sake, at least directly (they hardly ever need help crossing over) that I do this, but it's more for the sake of the humans. It's usually more a case of bridging the worlds between animals and humans, to let the people know what they are, or aren't, understanding about what's happening. In the best circumstances it's a confirming to the people that they really are hearing and doing everything right according to the animal's needs and desires.

As with all my other shamanic experiences, it's really a case of just being willing to show up and allow whatever it is the Universe wishes to accomplish through me to happen. And also, as with all my other shamanic experiences, it is always a deep gratitude that I feel afterwards, no matter what level of confidence I went into it with, as I experience the relief and healing of others around me that comes as a result of my simply being who I am.

I love my job!

Mom... Dad... I'm Fae

If you've been reading my blog for awhile, you might recognize this entry as a reprint of an earlier post, but it seemed only right to post again the story of my "real" birth on my birthday. Enjoy!

Note: This entry became a lot longer and more involved than I had originally planned. In fact I was considering breaking it into two posts. It is, again, a story from my personal mythology, in fact MY story from my personal mythology, and how I came to be. If you would like the story only, you may skip ahead to the blue section. Otherwise you will get the whole DVD-special-features-behind-the-scenes-making-of documentary. Either way, thank you for reading. :)

Since I can remember, I felt like I didn't belong with my family. Even people on the outside would ask how I ended up with them. It never occurred to me that I really might not belong with them until a seed thought was planted in my mind.

At school one day, I don't remember what grade I was in, another student's dad saw me and said, incidentally, "Corrigan. That's another name for the little people." The full importance of that statement, and the hidden meaning of my last name, didn't hit me at first, but the seed began to grow over many years.

As I outgrew my childhood beliefs and structures, and my world developed and expanded beyond the accepted boundaries of my up-bringing, and my family, these fish-out-of-water feelings only increased, and most of the time, even in my own mind, it was me who was, at best, weird, at worst, wrong.

But as my world grew and began to include ever expanding possibilities of various dimensions and parallel worlds, inevitably I became introduced to the realm of Faerie. Granted it started slowly with "wouldn't it be cool if...", fueled by images of the Cottingly Fairies and the like, but it has blossomed into, not only a full-on belief, but a complete knowingness of the existence of the Wee Folk. Actually to the point of missing the little blue sparkly flashes of light, seen out of the corner of my eye, when my apartment faeries are being, perhaps, a little too quiet.

Even from the beginnings of my forays into Faery, that statement of my last name being ‘another word for the little people’ never left me. So you can just imagine my delight at the point where I discovered a dictionary of the faery folk, and verified the truth of that statement. Perhaps ‘delight’ is not the proper word. More of an Oh-my-god-and-holy-crap-it's-true-dumb-founded recognition of another cosmic puzzle piece falling into place . Yes. Quite delightful.

I believe it was at that point that the seed began to germinate, and a story began to form in the back of my mind as to my true origins. I had read about 'star children' and the different indicators, most of which I fit, that would suggest you were an alien born into a human body. Yet that didn't quite sit right with me. I felt too connected to the earth to be from somewhere else. But, were I changeling, a faery baby switched at birth with a human baby, that just felt so much more plausible!

None of my research into Corrigans, or Korrigans, contradicted my story, but rather fueled my excited imagination. The Corrigan originate mostly from Brittany, and are the type that appear as human women, who sit by pools of water, alone or sometimes in groups up to nine, combing their long hair in the moonlight. During the day, though, they take on the appearance of old hags. They are also shape-shifters, able to change into any creature they want.

Now I hadn't meant to recount the whole story here, just give bits and pieces and highlights as I had them figured out. However, when I began writing, things just started to flow and, before I knew it, I had what follows. With all of that in mind, this is the story as I've reconstructed it so far... (*Ahem!*)


Once upon a time, there was a magickal pool, and around this pool sat nine sisters. At least they sat around the pool at night, combing their long, glorious hair that shimmered in the moonlight, because that was when they appeared beautiful and young. During the day they stayed out of sight for in the sunlight they had the appearance of old, wrinkled crones. This was slightly offset by their ability to change into any creature they desired.

One of the sisters, My'riad, wishing to be alone one day, assumed her favorite shape, that of a unicorn, and wandered out into the sun dappled forest. So lost in the beauty of the woods was she that, not until the snapping of a twig brought her back to the present, did she realize she was not alone.

In a single instant, she saw the arrow pointed at her, saw it loosed from it's string, saw a hand strike the bow, and watched the arrow whistle harmlessly into the under brush beside where she stood. Without thought she fled, disappearing into the trees, but, as is the habit of most curious wild creatures, she circled back around to investigate what had, just moments ago, threatened her very life. What she saw was two men, one of whom was red in the face from screaming at the other man, "Bastard! You cost me a unicorn! I could have been set up for life! How dare you interfere with my shot! If I see you again you will pay with your life!" And the man stomped, very noisily, off into the woods.

The other man stood silently for a moment, watching where the first man had gone, then without turning his head, he said quietly, "You're not a real unicorn are you." The only answer was a gasp as the faery woman's, currently fuzzy, chin dropped and her eyes widened in shock. Who was this man who not only sensed her presence, but that she wasn't who she appeared to be? He turned toward her, reaching out an inviting hand and an even more inviting smile. Darkness had begun to fall so she allowed herself to slip back into her human form -- her beautiful, young human form -- and slip her hand softly into his. There was a rush of energy as they touched and, beneath the splendor of the rising moon, they kissed for the first time.

They kissed many more times that night, among other things I can not mention without having to tag this blog as unsuitable for minors, and as the first rays of the sun began to break across the horizon, he whispered softly in her ear, "I know who you are, and I release you." Her mind reeled as she was overcome at this, for this is the only way a Corrigan may become, and remain, young and beautiful -- A human man who loves her enough to allow her to be who she is. A joy she had not known washed over her, coupled with the certain knowledge that a miracle had been conceived within her.

My'riad returned with him to his cottage in the woods where they lived happily together for some time, and her belly continued to swell. One evening, though, her husband did not return from his hunt. Her concern grew and she set out in search of him, again taking the unicorn's shape, as four legs could carry her more swiftly than two. Oh! If only she had had six, perhaps she would have arrived in time! As it was she happened upon the scene to see her lover freshly fallen to the earth, an arrow protruding from his chest.

The anguish that issued from her throat was unearthly, and some say it froze her beloved's slayer in his tracks, even as he attempted to flee. Literally froze his heart in his chest. His life ended by she who would have earlier been his prey, for he was the previously mentioned man making good his threat against her husband. Then shifting instantly back to human form she cradled her love's head in her hands, caressing his hair with her fingers and bathing his face with her tears. One last kiss on his cold lips was all she could bear and she had to go. Just get away, as far and as fast as her four legs would carry her!

In another part of the forest, a hunter heard a creature crashing through the forest and moved to intercept it, to see what manner of beast could make such an ungodly wailing, and to put this beast out of its misery. And so it happened that for the second time, My'riad came face to face with a nocked arrow intended to take her life.

"Please, my Lady, do with me what you will, but pray do not harm my babe!" A soft growl rose from My'riad's throat.

With this a smile flickered at the corner of the hunter's mouth and she slowly lowered her bow. "You're not a real unicorn are you."

"No my Lady," My'riad replied with a bow as she shimmered back to her true form, at which time her pregnancy became blatantly clear.

"Fear not precious one. You and your babe are safe now, for you are under my protection."

My'riad, having pushed herself to her already emotionally strained limits, nearly passed out, but her tears turned from grief to relief for she knew that the Huntress Goddess before her was also the Goddess of Childbirth. And so, whether because she was Fae, or because the Goddess of Midwives personally delivered her baby, she had the easiest of labors and was soon holding a beautiful boy child to her breast.

"I know this one," Artemis whispered, gathering the supple deer hide back around a tiny wiggling leg that had escaped the bundle, held by the new mother. "And so do you," She added, looking My'riad in the eye. My'riad balked, then began to cry, for in her babe she recognized the essence of her slain husband.

"And this one," continued the Goddess, wrinkling Her nose and winking at the child, "remembers me, don't you my little wolf?" The baby laughed and waved his arms. "How would you know my son, M'Lady?" "He lived a lifetime, long ago, as one of my children in a forest far from here. A place called Sherwood. And before that he spent time as one of my beloved beasts, the wildest, yet gentlest of creatures -- whose form, by no accident, is one that you know well." She smiled again as She traced a spiral, ever so gently, upon My'riad's forehead.

"Now, Daughter, there is some unfortunate business to attend to." My'riad's heart sank into her stomach. Hadn't she been through enough? "Because your child's blood is partly mortal, he can not be raised among the Fair Folk. His path leads into 'Man's World', where he will be challenged, true, but he will thrive, I promise you. He will bring to human minds and hearts a joy and whimsy born of his faery blood, and a hope they can not understand, yet will they be drawn to it like moths to the flame."

"And fear not for I will watch over him, instilling his heart with a love of the wild and a taste of the Faery Realm, that he may find his way back to his origins. And find his way back he will, for he is now my adopted son. He will be able to track and read the signs."

"What signs?" Demanded My'riad, "I will not give up my only son, even to you, without reason!"

"Calm yourself Daughter. I know of a family whose heritage is very spiritual, overflowing with holy men and women, through the monasteries and churches of Eire..." "Catholics?!" My'riad interrupted, showing her disdain by almost gagging on the word. Artemis continued unfazed, "And their surname is 'Corrigan'. He will gain enough experience and knowledge in his youth to maintain a solid footing in mystical matters, enabling him to make the leap from religion to spirituality. His name will be his first clue as to his true origin, and he will spend his life endeavoring to find that truth."

The Goddess of the Wild smiled pridefully as only a god, who knows of things to be, could.

"Oh yes. He will return."

Wrong Way Corrigan

Friday after work I had a few things on my mind, some recent emotional challenges which, because they involve other people, I won't go into detail about, but I decided a walk in Nature was the best prescription for clearing my mind, grounding, and returning to the present. Fortunately, just down the road from where I live is a wonderful park that helps me do that.





So I went to my beloved little park, which I hadn't visited for some time, and discovered that because of some very active Eagle Scouts in the area, it wasn't quite as little as I remembered it. There were new trails leading off into woods and parts of the area previously unreachable, so with some excitement and great gratitude I headed off to explore.

What a gift! You know when you're playing a video game, and there's an area that is tantalizingly right there but the way is blocked until you unlock some clue, or attain some object, or play a special tune on your ocarina? That's how it felt. Like something had suddenly fallen into place and suddenly I was allowed access into this grand and glorious part of the map that I could previously only marvel about.

So I wandered, and when I had gotten a ways I realized it was getting late and I'd better head back. I looked around and saw a path branching off of the one I was on in the direction I thought I needed to go, so rather than retrace my steps I followed this trail. I followed it up to the top of a hill where I found I was not too far away from a barn. Huh. And cows. Hmm... "Holy crap! That's the farm I look at from the other side of the lake!" I was not where I thought I was. In fact I was on the opposite side of the lake from where I wanted to be. And it would be dark soon.

In such circumstances, what is the first choice of someone who was raised on the stories of Davy Crockett and Daniel Boone? Head across country of course! I was on a hill, so I could plainly see where it was I wanted to go, and from that vantage it looked easy enough to make a straight line from here to there.

I traded the big trail for a tiny deer trail meandering down the hill through the tall grasses, the whole time praying to the spirits of the land my intentions to do no harm and my gratitude for allowing me to be there. Meanwhile the grasses gave way to thicker and thicker underbrush, including the occasional black berry vine, until at some point I had to stop. The further I went in the harder the way got, and I realized that if I went any further I would be causing damage because I was starting to become desperate and wanting to flail my way through.

When I paused I realized I was still doing what has been ingrained into most of us, that when things get hard you just fight harder to get through. In my determination to get where I was going, or where I thought I should be, I was starting to not care so much about how I got there or the destruction I caused on the way. D'oh!

I turned around and retraced my steps, as best I could, until I finally emerged once again onto the main trail. As I walked, unencumbered on the gravel trail, I kept reminding myself of the Taoism I purport to hold so close to my heart, and it's "water course way" -- the path of least resistance. In Nature, when there are road blocks, it tends to mean you are going the wrong way. You're pushing rather than allowing the natural flow of life. Albeit there are road blocks that are meant to be broken down for our personal and spiritual growth, but if every step is more difficult than the last, and if the undergrowth is pulling at your feet while the overgrowth is pulling at your hair, there's probably a better way to get where you are going.

As I was thinking these things, I stopped and almost laughed out loud. On the trail ahead of me was a single slug, one of my power animals, my own Taoist Master who's message to me is always about the "unhurried life" (read my post Tao of Slug).

I was still musing about Slug, when I rounded a corner in the woods and came face to face with a dog. A big dog. Uncharacteristically of me, I froze. I talked to the dog, but not in the playful, "How you doin' pup dawg?" way I normally do. Moments later the dog's human came around the other corner in the trees and both me and the dog relaxed, she running up to me with tail wagging. The dog not the human.

As I played with the dog, I greeted the woman who asked how I was. I replied "fine," then returned her question. "Okay," she started, then, "Well, not really..." And she went into how she had just found out that day that her dad has an aggressive form of prostate cancer, and everything she was going through concerning that. I just stood there listening until she apologized for too much sharing to a complete stranger. "Not at all," I said, and told her how I just found out a favorite aunt of mine was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer and didn't have long to live. And though I didn't say it, in my thoughts I added, "This is what I do. This is the shamanic path I am on. Being in the right place at the right time to be of service to whomever needs it."

I asked if I could give her a hug, and she paused but a moment before saying, "Sure." I hugged her, felt her sigh, and then she said, "That is really nice."

I realized that sometimes the wrong way is the right way. If I hadn't gone and gotten myself lost and tangled in the woods, I would not have received the lesson (again) about the watercourse way, and I would not have been here, at this point in time and space, comforting this woman.

After the hug, we said our good-byes, and I walked away from this healing encounter with a smile of gratitude on my lips for the magnificent orchestration of the Universe to make such unlikely things possible, and for allowing me to be part of such miracles.

And into my head popped the thought, "Because that's what unicorns do."

...Hidden Dragon

Last week at my day job, I was in a part of the warehouse where the walls are lined with windows. So when I heard a sort of buzzing flutter, I turned around to see what manner of fly was trying to get out and what I could do to aid its escape. I was surprised to find a dragonfly. It wasn't the dragonfly itself that surprised me, but the fact that it was actually on the floor.

I moved forward to try to catch and escort him out the door to safety, and my movement caused him to start buzzing his wings furiously. I watched him lift about 6 inches off the floor, then watched in shock as he flipped over on his back, falling back to the ground, fluttering helplessly as he tried to right himself.

"What the --? Poor thing!" I easily caught the little guy, afraid that I would discover a missing or injured wing. Nope. He was totally intact. But, the ends of his wings were covered in thin layers of cobwebs and dust. "Poor thing!" I uttered again.

I held him in a loosely closed hand to keep him secure but unharmed, and with the other hand I gently peeled the sticky mass from each wing, whispering my good intentions to him the whole time. At first I was afraid of injuring him, but he was big enough that I was able to clean his wings without dislodging them.

Eventually he was good as new and I walked him out the back of the warehouse where I bid him good-bye and opened my hand. Upon release he took off and my heart soared with him! Booya! Then a second later it sank into my stomach as I watched him drop. Booya denied! But he fell for just a moment before buzzing up and over a wall and out of sight! Booya reinstated!

As I snuck back into the warehouse, avoiding any unwelcomed, uptight, managerial glances, I was pondering the lesson in this little ecounter. According to the Medicine Cards, Dragonfly represents illusion. The story goes that once upon a time Dragonfly was actually a dragon -- a very arrogant beast who was costantly bragging about his might and power and magick. One day Coyote, tired of this endless stream of boasts, approached Dragon and said, "You're not that powerful. I bet you can't make yourself this big..." indicating a very small span with a couple of claws. "Pfff!! As if!" laughed the dragon, and he proceeded to turn himself into a dragonfly. The thing is that, once in this smaller form, he forgot how mighty and powerful he was, falling for and trapping himself by his own illusion.

"So," I wondered. "How am I trapping myself in the illusion of smallness and powerlessness?" I looked around the warehouse -- "Hmmm!..." "And how," I thought, thinking of my little four-winged friend, "Am I allowing my wings to be covered by the muck of this world, preventing my grandiose dragon-self from flying free as I am meant to?"

As The Wheel Turns

So I have not been writing a lot in my blog recently, and while it may seem like it's because there's nothing going on, it is actually the opposite case; Not that I don't have anything to write about, but that things are happening and changing at such a rate that I can't keep up, and I get overwhelmed at all the things I want to write -- resulting in nothing getting written.


Aside from my self-judgements concerning this, I have to admit to still knowing that everything is happening as it needs to, in perfect timing and expression. This is not a new pattern for me, nor is it to be unexpected at this time of the year. We have passed summer with it's bustling activity, and I'm still carrying much of that frenetic energy with me, but he wheel of the year has turned toward the dark half of the year -- the time of quieting outer expressions to turn inward toward deeper introspection and contemplation. It is the time of the year when Bear returns to the cave, the womb of the Earth Mother, to sleep and dream, releasing the Summer and dreaming of Spring and all the good things she wants to see bloom.

In fact an interesting fact is that I started blogging just over a year ago with a private blog named Embracing Bear, Dreaming With Dark Mother based on just that subject as a means to juornal and sort things out.

And so I am slowing down -- not making as many commitments, and allowing others to run out. The only things on my regular schedule is my new weekly shamanic class, and doing Medicine Card readings the 2nd and 4th Saturdays at Soul Food Books in Redmond (sorry about the plug... :)). Other than that I plan on coming home after work, or keeping my weekends open, for more down time and the chance to reconnect with myself.

It suddenly occurred to me that I've not been getting any art done, as I run from one project to the next or to card reading gigs, and that it's not going to get done unless I schedule it -- unless I allow a space of time to actually do it. And so I am working down my Artistic To Do list and purposely planning a different project every night or day.

And I'm scheduling in "couch" days -- days on the weekend when I do nothing but lay on the couch all day snoozing and watching DVDs. In a recent psychic reading I received, one of the things she told me was not to undervalue these times. As I've already discovered, I need that space and time to maintain my sanity, and it is absolutely necessary for me to replenish my waning resources, particularly at this time of the year as night time out distances the day light. It is in the dark that the seed grows, that the wound is healed, that our ancestors lean closer. It is dreams in the dark of Winter that give birth to the light of Spring.

It has been an interesting trip around the sun, and by the look of things, life is about to get even more interesting on this turn of the wheel. We can only wait and see...

To the Bat Cave, Robin!!

Today's Special Guest

For my day-job I work in a warehouse -- basically a concrete box. Not a likely place for wildlife at all. Yet I found this little green frog inside the warehouse. Goes to prove when animal guides need your attention, they will get it! I have yet to decipher what his message is but he definitely got my attention.

Smoke Signals

I am finally starting to get the idea that this whole internet thing has its good points. I have a couple of dear friends in other countries that I would never have met otherwise. Not that I've technically met them yet, but it's amazing how close you can get to someone you've never seen face to face.

Anyway, one of them lives in Sri Lanka, and we will chat live maybe once a week online when our individual schedules intertwine between the 12 1/2 hour difference -- usually on the weekend when I don't have to worry about getting up in the morning. So one night this past weekend I checked to see if she was online. Since I had just chatted with her the night before on a 'school night,' I thought she might be on at the same time so that we could talk longer. "Oh well," I thought when she wasn't, and went to check her facebook page to see what she was up to or what might be going on. What I found was a status, written a bit cryptically but I knew it meant trouble.

What had happened I didn't know for sure, just that "every thing's falling apart," and my blood ran cold. I knew she was having some challenges in her life, had just chatted to her about them the night before and thought things had smoothed out a bit. Apparently not!

I don't know if there's anything more frustrating than knowing someone you care about is having trouble, and having no possible way of reaching them, even just to let them know you are thinking of them. The internet is our only physical means of connection and without that she may as well be... well... on the other side of the world.

So I did what I could with this only bridge between us, sending an email telling her I was worried and to please contact me, and writing on her facebook wall the same basic thing saying that I would stay up all night if I had to until I heard from her. And though I dozed intermittently, I slept with my computer, and wrote on her wall about once an hour to let her know I was still there. I can't help it if Chivalry still runs hot through my veins!

Before retiring, though, I did the only other thing I could think of, or that I was drawn to do, to help shamanically and that was to smudge. Smudging is the process of burning various plants or woods, each carrying a specific purpose, the most common being the burning of sage for the clearing and cleansing of energy, whether it's a person or a home. I have done this a number of times for a number of people, cleaning out old energies that linger in their home, but it had always been in person -- when I began that night I didn't even know it was possible to do it long distance.

Anyway, I pulled out my smudging stuff and started by burning some cedar. Cedar carries the properties of protection, and so I started with that to send that energy to my friend, along with numerous prayers to Artemis, my Matron goddess and Protector of Women, to guide and protect her. I saw the smoke creating a bubble of sacred space around my friend.

Then I pulled out the sage, burning that in an effort to clear whatever dark energies and thought patterns were haunting her, to help her mind to clear so she would be able to see through the confusion of emotions swirling around her.

I then burned lavender, in my mind as a way of filling the space I'd just cleared, this protective bubble, with calmness and peace. And to seal the deal I burned more cedar -- perhaps a bit more than I needed to as I now have a few more divots in my couch where stray bits burned and popped off (and as a further insight I recommend you never burn cedar while you are shirtless -- just sayin'.).

I finally heard back from her around 8 the next morning and she was alright. She said the storm in her head had subsided and she was feeling okay and strong. "Hmmm," I thought, and told her what I had done with the smudging. Whatever I did must have worked, it really must, she said not believing how different she felt in light of what had happened earlier that day.

All I could reply with was to say, "One of these days I'm going to stop being surprised that the things I do actually work and help people!"

...One of these days...

Food For The Soul

It is so interesting how things shift, balance out, and play against each other. The very next day after that last post about being so grateful for finding my way, feeling like I know what I'm doing, and being on top of my world, I had the opportunity to examine the direct opposite.

It was my first night doing readings at a book store/coffee shop/music lounge in Redmond, and I was actually more nervous than I expected to be. The day had been a blur of Mercury retrograde miscommunication and near misses, so by the time I got to the store I was pretty ungrounded, shaky, and anxious -- probably not the best state to be in for readings. I went to the coffee counter to get a chai, and the barista dude excitedly told me about his experiences with Medicine Cards -- using them to find his 9 different animal totems (one for each of the 7 directions and one for walking along each side) -- and I shrunk a bit. I purposely don't do that kind of thing with the cards, preferring contact with some one's animal guides be more personal, either through my contacting them and relaying info or, more preferably, guiding someone through a meditation to meet them in a one-on-one situation. My main goal is empowerment of the other person, and the closer connection I can facilitate between human and guide the happier I am.

So I returned to my reading table, feeling even more ungrounded under the pressure of new expectations on me, like I was supposed to know/do something different than what I knew or was doing -- like I was faking it. And I couldn't shake the strange vibe I was getting. It just didn't feel like the same shop that I had been to before, and just recently too when I met with one of the owners to arrange my readings there. Of course I assumed it was me.

I did have one woman come up and show interest because she had read my blog after seeing the info in the store's calendar. My first reaction, though I didn't show it, was "Holy crap! Someone else is reading my blog! Yay!" Quickly followed by my next reaction, "Holy crap! Someone else is reading my blog! Oh crap!" So as I tried to explain the Medicine Cards to someone who had never heard of them before, while still feeling ungrounded and uncertain of myself, I felt another layer of expectations pushing down on me -- Now that I was officially in the public's eye with strangers reading my blog who and how am I expected to be? Am I suddenly a leader or an expert because I'm being read? Am I going to fail because I'm not what people expect? -- Not that she was thinking or expecting anything of the kind. This was all just in my own head -- Shadows of old patterns rising to the surface to be dealt with.

She eventually passed, after first agreeing, because I had no way to take a credit card. After she left I found myself feeling like crap, especially as more and more people were arriving and walking right past me. All those old thoughts of being a failure and 'just who do I think I am anyway?' bounced around between my ears. And this was just one day after I'd had that magnificent experience with the reading in Issaquah!

As it turns out, my first night there was not a normal night at all. The band playing that night was a very popular local band that has a huge cult following. I think this is the vibe I picked up on because the place was eventually packed with people who came only to see the band and nothing else. I sat in the corner and watched everyone zip by, on their way to get as close to the stage as possible, without even noticing me. Apparently not the normal state of affairs there.

As the band started up, and I began to get a bit more grounded from eating something along with the chai, I was able to examine more realistically those thoughts. This had nothing to do with me. It was totally the circumstances and had nothing to do with me or my skills. I was there, free of charge, getting to listen to a band I had heard about but not really ever gotten to listen to, drinking a couple of complimentary chais, and getting unexpectedly reacquainted with an old friend I hadn't talked to in a very long time. All positives. Plus, the drastic changes I expected at my day job never materialized (Yes, I know. I promised a post about that. Coming soon...) so I wasn't in desperate need of money. For all that it wasn't a bad night.

So I finally relaxed into the evening, standing in my corner listening to the band and watching people, knowing that even if I didn't make any money, I was suppose to be there for some reason, even if it was just to be seen by people and to become a familiarity there.

Then I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye, and turned to see a young girl surveying the cards that I had laid out on the table in an effort to entice people over to inquire about them. "Ah!" I thought, "That must be one of the reasons now..." I picked up the deck and told her to pick a card, then sat down with her as I explained what that animal meant. Her eyes went wide and she started looking at the cards on the table asking what each one meant. Pretty soon she had the whole deck in her hands, flipping over one card at a time, and asking what each meant in turn. Ah! Flash cards! The Universe was giving me a pop quiz!

The girl's sister joined us just before the deck ran out, and she started asking questions of her own and clarifying what I was saying. I did a little 3 card reading for her, and felt the wheels turning in her as she digested what I told her. And the younger girl just kept looking up at me all intent, and asked, "How do you remember all of them?" "Well, I've been studying animals all my life, and when you know about their place in the eco-system and their habits, you can see how that relates to what's happening in people's lives." "Oooh!" She replied as I could see the lights go on. She lingered for a long time just looking at the pictures on the cards, and over the next few hours she wandered back a number of times to look at and handle the cards. I could almost hear the spirit animals calling her. I could definitely feel it. Could practically cut it with a knife.

I realized that making no money that night was a small price to pay if I was able to help fan the spark of shamanism in a little girl's heart. Maybe one day down the line she will do a reading for me. That would be priceless!