Whirlwind Weekend ~ Part the Last: Epilogue

The next day was Tuesday, when the things in my post, "...Just a Kiss", took place. After the exhilaration of that experience, and feeling a connection with others in the group, I hung out to help clean up. That's when an impromptu cuddle party broke out. Feeling freshly anointed by the earlier blessing, and a renewed sense of belonging as we snuggled and sang Goddess songs, I felt this more than made up for my experiences Saturday night. I soared for days afterwards, and, as I posted on my facebook page, was ridiculously happy.

"...We all come from the Goddess, and to Her we shall return..."

Whirlwind Weekend ~ Part the Third: Full Circle

The morning after the cuddle party, I woke up on the couch, which had felt a bit more welcoming than my bed the night before. Tears were still coming, intermittently, but they actually felt good, washing away long overdue issues that had clung on long enough. I was still sad but with a sense of purpose. It was interesting to sit with the feelings, neither fighting them nor feeding them -- just allowing them.





I got my stuff together, and after stopping by my best friend's place for a short chat, headed up to Snohomish where another friend's Native American teacher was having a circle that afternoon. I was still in a weird place emotionally, but found myself, probably for the first time ever, realizing the importance of staying with my feelings and not worrying about trying to change them, or bottle them up,for the sake of others. That was a freeing revelation! And, as it turns out, once I was around other friends, my spirits naturally rebounded without artificially counteracting the previous feelings.





We began the circle, and the teacher began teaching us the Native ways, in between drumming and singing. I was fine through the whole thing, drumming and singing along, but then we started the talking circle. Most groups pass a talking stick to signify that the holder of the stick is the only one allowed to talk at that time. This teacher uses a talking bowl -- a beautiful ceramic (I think!) bowl filled with small stones from the ocean. As each person held the bowl and talked, they would sift their fingers through the sand-like content, and, in this way, the teacher told us, the Stone People were already healing whatever it was we were talking about.





Eventually the bowl made it around to me, and I echoed what a lot of people had already said, about feeling an acceleration of synchronicities and visions and stuff, telling the story of how I'd gotten my reindeer drum bag to illustrate my point. Then I started talking about the previous night, and the things I'd been experiencing in the last couple months -- The stuff being brought up by the Tuesday night talks I'd been going to; How I'd been examining things I never had before, and how healing yet uncomfortable it was. I talked about my feelings about touch and feeling like I was 12 again. And as I talked, and talked, and talked, the tears just flowed, unencumbered, down my cheeks. At one point I looked up at the teacher, sitting on the floor near-by, and saw such a tenderness in her eyes. Up to this point, although I held a deep respect and honor for her and everything she did and knew, I had always felt a wall of some sort between us, like I wasn't totally accepted. Now I felt this flow of compassion from her and it was such a relief, that it probably fueled a few more tears.





Later, when I told my friend about this, she told me that the teacher had probably been waiting to see who I really was -- to see if my mind and words matched what was in my heart. I smiled to think of the name I had been given at my vision quest: "Speaks His Heart". Apparently this had been demonstration enough for her, and I felt an acceptance I hadn't before. That in itself was well worth everything else I'd been through that weekend.





The teacher asked if I had heard any songs in my various shamanic journeys, and I answered no. My friend is a lodge singer and had told me how songs, sometimes just sounds and other times words in a Native tongue, would just come into her head. Being a songwriter myself I was in awe of this, and hadn't experienced anything like that before.





The circle continued, and as the teacher continued to speak, I started seeing words in my head. Not normal, sensical words, but I saw them spelled out and everything. "Hoom! A-hoom!" "That's weird," I thought. It continued, "Hoom! A-hoom!" And as I saw the words in my head I became aware of little heads popping part way out of the water. Just far enough that they could investigate who was there, and there was a 'hoom-a-hoom' sound as they breathed through their whiskers at the very surface of the water. "Walruses?" I thought. "No... Seals? No, not them either." Then I saw them lighten, almost smile, with a sense of "you're no threat!" And as they bobbed further out of the water, smoothly onto their backs, I heard them laughing, "Hee! Hee-hee! Heeya-hee!" before rolling in one fluid motion and diving beneath the water's surface again. Otters!


Slowly it dawned on me what had just happened. My heart began pounding as I realized I had just heard a song! I went back and forth in my brain, "I need to say something! No, I can't say anything! I've got to! No! Yes!" ...the whole time trying to pay attention to the lesson. Finally there was a slight pause in the teaching and I thought, "Fine!"


"Um... I think I just heard a song?" "Alright! Let's hear it!" Gulp! I pick up my drum, explaining that it was an otter song, then I close my eyes, and try to hear the song again, navigating it to my vocal chords.


"Hoom A-hoom! Hoom A-hoom! Hee! Hee-hee! Heeya-hee!" I sang the simple melody through a few times, accompanying myself on my drum, then, self-consciously not knowing how long to carry it on, abruptly stopped and opened my eyes. I found the others to just be opening their eyes as well. "Aw! I was just seeing them floating on their backs!" my friend says. "Really?" I ask. "Uh-huh!" "Cool!" I smiled.


The circle wound down, and we dispersed to enjoy a potluck dinner before further dispersing as everyone else left for home. Where as previously I had about a 50/50 chance of getting a hug from the teacher, she hugged me twice before she left. Nice.


I hung around my friend's house, and we talked until the 2nd shift, the Jyorei crew, arrived to give and receive energy healing. By this time I was pretty much a limp noodle. I had no more to give and no more resistance. It was like the calm, cleansing feeling after a storm has blown itself through. By the time everyone else left, it was really late and I ended up spending the night in my friend's guest room, being in no real condition to drive the hour or so home.


I was still processing everything the entire next day, my brain pretty much in neutral the whole time, and when finally I got home to my own bed I was feeling much improved. Still unsettled and confused on some level, but also with a strange sense of peace.

Hoom-a-hoom!

Whirlwind Weekend ~ Part the Second: Becuddlement

In an earlier post (...Just a Kiss) I mentioned the previous emotionally draining weekend but not how it related to that entry. This is the promised back story of what preceded that post.

The next day, after opting out of the shamanism class, was Saturday, and though I had breathed easier Friday when that situation had been resolved, the new day brought its own special brand of nervousness. That night I would be attending my first cuddle party. Cuddle parties are what they sound like -- a party to cuddle with others -- and the idea is to allow people to experience giving and receiving affectionate touch in a safe, non-sexual environment.


I was first introduced to the existence of such events while watching the reality show Scott Baio is 45 and Single. Go ahead and laugh, but I really enjoyed the show, and despite dragging his feet and initially scoffing at some of the things he had to do, the show was initiated by Scott and chronicles his hiring a life coach to help him discover why he was 45 and single. Here was a man, a very manly man, who knew that what he was doing wasn’t working, and so sought help because he was willing to change. Have I mentioned I’m a sucker for redemption stories? Anyway, one of the things his life coach had him do was go to a cuddle party. I felt the horizons of my world expand palpably.


As I have explained to a few people, I don't have an inner child, I have an inner puppy. I love to touch and be touched. I love snuggling and cuddling. And yet I find myself holding back because of various reasons, mostly my own issues of being judged and misunderstood. On one extreme is being perceived as too soft and weak and on the other is being perceived as having ulterior motives and being a lech. I have had people lump me into both categories. Along with that is the fact of my being extremely empathic and being concerned about crossing other people's boundaries. I have a feeling I will talk about all those issues in the future, but for the time being I mention them only to show what a wonderful and welcome opportunity it is to be in an environment where those issues are nullified.


Kind of like being in the SCA, the Society for Creative Anachronisms, a medieval re-creation group I belong to. When you go to an event where everyone is there to express the ideals of chivalry and honor, I feel an ease at being able to be the person I want to be, the person I really am, because of the atmosphere and common purpose of like-minded attendees. I can just act naturally without the background white noise of “should I or shouldn’t I”. It’s like a sacred space between the worlds where the way of the world no longer holds sway.


Anyway, the nervousness I felt was laced with a definite excitement and anticipation. And once I got there, most of the nervousness subsided, seemingly being connected mostly to arriving on time -- part of setting safe, sacred space was that they were going to lock the doors at a certain time so that, though you could leave, no one else could come in. So I settled in, greeting a dear friend who was already there, and chatting with a couple people until the orientation began, and we were taken through demonstrations, and then practice runs, of asking before touching someone, saying "no", and the other points that kept everyone on the same page and safe.


That part was all fine, and then, when we were officially released to enjoy the evening, something happened with me. As the music fired up for the ecstatic dance that was the heartbeat of the event, I suddenly felt a shift. I felt like I was a teenager again at high school dances, sitting on the sidelines without the courage to ask anyone to dance. I felt totally disconnected and out of place as I tried to process the energy swirling around me. I danced a bit as I sorted it out, then finally retreated to the side of the dance floor.



There were a couple of women I was acquainted with who came up and asked to cuddle, and that was really nice. Really, really nice. For the most part, though, I spent the night sitting by myself, sometimes at the point of tears, feeling overwhelmed as I tried to wrap my head around what was happening around me, and befuddled as I tried to deal with the apparent re-emergence of puberty with all its awkwardness and lack of self-worth . The interesting thing is that, at the same time I was sitting there feeling this cavacade of emotions, on some level I realized it was okay to be feeling these things. They were coming up to be cleared out. This didn't necessarily ease the feelings any, but it kept me from fighting them and trying to counter act them by purposely going out and asking someone to cuddle. More than likely that would have back-fired anyway because it would have been coming from an attitude of neediness.



At one point I noticed a woman who I had seen earlier, on her own and seemingly not having a good time, sitting by herself out in the lobby area. Recognizing the look on her face and the tightness with which she was holding herself, I felt compelled to check on her. "Are you alright?" "No." "Need to talk about it?" "I just had a really rough week, and wasn't really prepared for this. I'm feeling really out of place." "You're not the only one who's feeling that way," I assured her, "And, if you need a friend, or someone to sit with or talk to, come find me." She thanked me as I smiled at her and left her with her own thoughts and feelings.




More sitting alone, with intermittant dancing (where I had to refrain from 'dancing my guides' like we had learned in shaman class. Eagle started to come through and I was afraid he'd hit someone on the crowded dance floor when he attempted to flap his 'wings'.) and just being with these uncomfortable feelings. In hindsight I realized the blessing of being in such a place to feel safe to allow these feelings room to move and flow.




Then toward the end of the night, my friend who had volunteered for the evening, came by, rather frazzled and overwhelmed herself by the experience, and after she spent some time in the designated grounding area, we found a spot and cuddled together for a little while. That was probably the best part of my night, and I think I really needed that familar connection and physical reassurance. I hope it helped her too.




Again I found myself sitting alone. I wanted so badly to hold and be held, to touch and be touched, all the while fully cognizant of my state of neediness -- not wanting to ask from that place, and hoping no one would pity me either. I also recognized the desire to be validated by someone else -- to have my self-worth determined by others' thoughts and actions. Definitely shades of puberty!


While I sat there I also realized certain boundaries I had. Although ultimately I believe it possible to connect with anyone, to see the divine light in every person, I needed to have a certain connection with someone to feel totally comfortable cuddling with them. That was actually one of the purposes of being there too, discovering and examining boundaries that I had never experienced before.


And as I sat there, tears threatening to flow forth at any moment, the woman I'd interacted with in the lobby came over and sat down next to me on the steps where I was, and just started talking about stuff -- tattoos, Aphrodite, science fiction, everything. Again tears welled up, but this time in gratitude. That was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for me, and as the singing bowl rang out, signaling the end of the night, I thanked her for doing for me what I had offered to her. And I collected the hug she was too uncomfortable to give at our first interaction.


Everyone circled up to breathe together and close the event, and I found my friend again to touch base before heading home. Despite her own emotional struggles with the evening, she asked if I needed to talk. I hesitantly ascented, not wanting to take her away from her volunteer duties but wanting to connect, so she took my hand and led me to a semi-private space at the back of the room. Clumsily I tried to explain what I was feeling, saying I felt like I wasted the whole night. She looked at me, holding my eyes for a moment then said, "You showed up." A simple statement, but it hit home. Again I was not giving myself the credit for the courage it took just to come to an event like this. "Oh yeah, huh." She nodded smiling, and I couldn't help smiling myself. "What?" she asked. "Nothing," I shyly replied, looking down. "No, what?" She asked again, curiously. I looked in her eyes. There was a momentary pause as I weighed what I was about to say, then just blurted it out -- "You're beautiful." It registered on her face what I had said, and she looked away saying, "I'm not sure what to do with that."


"Crap!" I thought. "Here we go again." I had lost a friend once because, near as I've been able to sort out, I had complimented her eyes and she thought I was coming onto her. Fortunately, this friend was different -- Way different! She reassured me we were alright, and we parted ways, she to help clean up and me to go home.


The way home was a blur of tears, roller-coasting emotions, and organic oreo-type cookies.

Whirlwind Weekend ~ Part the First: Soul Reprieval

Last weekend I was supposed to begin a class on Soul Retrieval -- “supposed to” being the operative phrase. When I found out my Shamanism teacher was going to teach this class, I was extremely excited and figured it was the natural next step in my shamanic education. It was definitely something I wanted and planned to learn, for my own deeper self-exploration, as well as my future as a shamanic practitioner, so what was there to question? That was where I slipped up.

As time went on and the class grew closer, I found myself inexplicably less and less excited. A couple days before the class I was talking to a friend about it and, for some reason, it did not surprise her. She pointed out how busy I’d been, and that everything I’d been doing -- all the classes, workshops, readings,etc -- was shifting and increasing my energy. My physical body, which moves at a slower pace, needed to time to adjust and catch up with all these changes. “Still,” I thought, “How could I possibly not suppose to take the class?”

The next morning I finally sat down and did what I should have done a long time ago. I journeyed on it, to talk to my guides and get clarity and a higher perspective on the situation. Being a student of modern shamanism, I put away my drumming CD when I realized that the thumpa-thumpa-thumpa of the freshly started washing machine would suffice to fuel my trip to the otherworld.

Because I was nervous, over this and the anticipation of coming events, I had a difficult time just popping in on my guides as I normally would, so I had to begin at my shaman tree; My portal to the otherworlds that exists in physical time and space; The tree that stands at the center of the old Faerieworlds site at the winery in Eugene, Oregon. In my mind, I entered the familiar hollow of the tree, reaching up and caressing her bark in gratitude as I passed within. Inside the tree, the floor gave way to a spiraling dirt stairway, which I descended, eventually emerging out into the underworld where I recognized the four-footed figure waiting there.

I kissed the big fuzzy nose of Nathaniel, my reindeer guide, then asked him what was going on and why I felt the way I did. “Your friend was correct, Patrick. You need a break in order to regroup and integrate the higher energies you have been experiencing. It is your choice whether to take the class or not, but the timing is not exactly right. There are things you need to do and experience before learning these things, but you will learn them.”

Feeling a little uncomfortable, feeling I’d already sort of committed to the class, and knowing how much work my teacher had put into creating this class with the exact number of students including me, I asked, “But what do I tell her?” “Tell her you need a summer vacation.” If it’s possible for reindeer to grin, Nathaniel did so.

“Thank you Fuzz Nose,” I said, kissing him again. Then I turned, and this time not needing the tree, popped into the living room of Fred, my upper world spirit teacher.

“Well hello Patrick. What can I do for you?” He asked as he hugged me. Then smiling he added “Yes, I know why you’re here.” He told me to sit quietly, staying aware of my body, and then to imagine being in the class. My stomach tightened. “Okay, now let that go, and imagine your day free of this class.” My stomach relaxed measurably. “That is all you have to know. Pay attention to those feelings, they will tell you. It’s not that the class is in any way bad or wrong, it is simply not the right time .”

I thanked Fred, hugged him good-bye, and returned my consciousness to my physical body on the couch where I was sitting. I felt a little better, but still dreaded having to tell my teacher this.

I had been through a similar experience not long ago where I was taking a series of classes that every ounce of my being told me to take. I learned a lot and gained valuable experience, but at one point I realized something wasn’t right. I was starting to feel more drained than fed by the experience. And I had this aching feeling in my heart that longed for something deeper. These classes had been a necessary first step, but I had gotten what I needed from them and was feeling, very strong guidance, that there was somewhere else for me to go – Shamanism! To me my decision to leave felt sound, grounded, and right, but trying to explain that to my former teacher, and what I was feeling and planning, proved not quite so simple. She ripped me apart and left me feeling 2 inches tall. "At least," I thought, "There's proof that I don't belong there." I prayed that this would not be repeated now.

After a brief pep-talk from another friend who knew my current teacher, I called and left a message explaining what was happening, and what my guides had said, telling her to please call me back so we could talk. I didn’t want news like that to just be given in a voice mail. Then, just to make sure I would reach her, I headed to Starbuck’s so I could email her as well. I have yet to get internet at home.

While I was there, and before I had the chance to send an email, she called me back. I could tell by her voice that she was a bit surprised and upset, but she asked me to explain again what was going on. I told her what my guides had said, and what I was feeling -- including the guilt of knowing how much work she'd put in on her end, and the rent money she would be out. She understandably asked me to reconsider and check in again before making my decision, but adding that, for being one who teaches others to follow their guidance she couldn't ask me to go against mine, as well as that, no matter what my decision was, she still thought the best of me. Through eyes watering from relief at her kindness and integrity, I said I would check in again and give her a call back that evening.

I did want to check in again, just to be sure, but wasn't sure how successful an attempted shamanic journey would be in the middle of a bustling coffee shop. Since I had my Medicine Cards along, I decided to consult those to get a straight answer, which I figured I could do without attracting too much attention. I shuffled the deck then drew the cards and placed them in a medicine wheel on the table, and this is how they fell...

Medicine Cards copyright Jamie Sams, David Carson, and Angela C. Werneke

And this is how I read it --

Starting in the East is Raven, who I see as a sort of Prometheus of the Americas, because it was She who stole fire from the Sun and brought it to humans. She carries the spark and flames of creativity as well as the dark, magickal expanses of The Great Mystery. She is the embodiment of Mystery and Magick, and especially appearing in the East, the place of the dawn, She is heralding a new period for me of creativity and magick.

In the South is Swan. It is the direction of action, which interestingly in this case seems to be the act of surrender -- which is more difficult than you may think. It is through the surrendering of Herself to the plan of the Creator, flowing with and following Her path, that She achieves the beauty and grace that She embodies as an adult, though she started as an ugly duckling. Basically She is telling me to trust that my path is unfolding as it should, and in surrendering myself and not fighting the current, I will emerge as my true and glorious self.

In the West, the place of watery emotions, is Snake reversed. Snake carries the medicine of Transformation, as in alchemy. Reversed She is telling me to be not afraid to shed my old skins, that there is a new self just below the surface ready to burst forth, and as she embraces Her eggs, I need to embrace all the new beginnings that are waiting to come forth in my life. Do not allow the waters of my emotions to drown the flames of change. (Interestingly, I picked up the Snake card as I was pondering this, and I instantly saw my path, my golden thread, snaking out ahead of me in a care-free and joyous manner)

In the North is Fox, who carries the medicine of Camouflage, blending in with the background to observe without making others self conscious, in reverse asks the question "Have you become too invisible?" Fox asks if I've fallen for my own tricks and begun to believe in my camouflage of a low self-esteem. It is time to break out of those illusions and be seen. Speak forth my truth.

At the Center of all, the center and hub that ties all these messages together, is Hawk, the messenger of the gods. In reverse, the meaning seems obvious -- "You are recieving divine messages. Listen to them!" In other words, trust the guidance I am recieving.

On top of Hawk I pulled another card for clarity (though in hindsight it seems pretty clear) and Weasel showed up. He is about stealth, and complimenting Hawk's reversed message, He tells me to stop pretending I don't know what I know and feel.

One more card for good measure, and I pull Jaguar, whose medicine is Integrity. Again, loud and clear, is the message to trust my guidance, speak my guidance, and follow my guidance. Walk my truth. I can trust the honor and integrity of these things, and all is well.

I called my teacher back, still a little hesitant to say what I found out, that my guidance was correct the first time, but feeling a little more sure of myself. She answered the phone, noticeably calmer, and I guessed she had done her own journeys for clarity. I told her I just didn't think I was supposed to take this class now. I breathed a breath of relief as she totally honored this saying it would not be the last time she would teach it. "...And I just want you to know that I still think you're awesome."

Thank you. I think you're awesome too.

...Just a Kiss

The other evening I had one of the most incredible nights I can remember. It was especially amazing being offset by an emotionally draining weekend. The weekend, and how it relates to last night, I will get to in another post, but for now I'm still feeling an energy high that I'm not exactly sure what to do with.

For a little over a month now I've been going to these Tuesday night talks with a group in Seattle who are concerned with creating a touch-positive society, and healing the wounds we all have, to one degree or another, in the area of sexuality. Being raised Catholic, and always being a goody-two-shoes, there are certain aspects of my life that, despite my expansive growth spiritually and otherwise, have gone unexamined. And the thing is, especially as an artist, these issues do not only concern sexual identity, but overall creativity as well as the sense of belonging -- finding your tribe and chosen family.

At the end of the night's talk, the topic of which was The Body As Sexual Healer, we were to pair off, and the facilitator led us in a body blessing where we blessed each other's bodies, celebrating the sacredness of the body and all its parts. The special thing for me, and why I feel very fortunate, was that there were three of us -- me, another man and a woman -- who had connected over the course of the night, so we did our blessings in a triad.

Of course, since everyone else was paired off in dyads, the rest of the group finished before all three in our little trinity had been blessed, meaning I was left out. As the rest of the people started mingling and chatting, the woman with us got the words from the facilitator and began, with the man, to bless me.

It was like we were in our own little bubble, our own little world, and I was not at all aware of the others milling about around us. It was such an honor to be the total focus of two beautiful people who began at my feet, blessing and kissing each part of me, thanking each part for it's function and beauty. Yes (as I hear your thoughts), we were all fully clothed. It was so magickal and I do not have words for the feeling of love and connectedness that washed over me.

The full impact did not hit me until the next day when I realized that it was like being blessed, toe to head, by the Lord and Lady themselves -- The divine masculine and feminine. I can still vividly feel the woman's kiss on my lips, and think that it was the single sweetest kiss I have ever had. Every time I recall it, I feel my heart just fill completely, and over-flowingly, with well being. It truly was the kiss of Goddess.

Thank you!

Shine On Cougar Moon

On the heels of my last post, having mentioned my drum, Cougar Moon, I thought I'd take the opportunity to tell his story.

Every thing is alive. Every thing has a spirit. If you ask (then listen) any thing will talk to you (Apologies for my 'Kwai Chang Caine' voice -- just be glad I'm not using my 'Yoda' voice. Like it you would not, hmm?). Such is the case with my drum. I took a drum-making class, and as I made my drum, I heard it's name whispered in my head. It's an elk hide drum that looks rather a lot like the moon, and it has cougar claw slash marks on it. Pretty obvious, huh? The thing is, the name did not come alone. It carried an entire story with it ~~

One day Cougar was roaming around the woods. She was very full of herself, bragging on and on, rather loudly and unabashedly, about how she was the greatest hunter ever. There was no prey she could not take down! Due to the volume of this incessant boasting, it is not surprising that it was overheard by Coyote. In fact, Coyote, who had been napping contentedly beside a fallen tree, was awakened rather harshly by Cougar's roaring laughter.

"Pff!" Thought Coyote, "Someone needs to bring Her down a couple notches." Seeing no one else in the near vicinity, Coyote took it upon himself to fill such an important responsibility. Actually he was relieved because his cunning brain had already settled upon a plan of action.

Knowing it to be the very night that the full golden harvest moon would rise, he slunk off to a village he knew, and with out too much difficulty, was able to steal a large elk hide. Snickering to himself about the great ingenuity of his plan, he stole off into the forest. Timing was everything so he ran as fast as his skinny little legs would carry him until he arrived at the perfect spot for the unfolding of his plot.

On top of a small hill, right in the path of the still bragging Cougar, he watched the first golden rays of the moon appearing behind him. In a flash, and with a dash of his special magick, he threw the hide over himself so that, when Cougar rounded a corner, clearing some trees that had blocked her view, what she beheld before her, glowing in a brilliant golden light, was the largest bull elk she had ever seen! Instantly she deflated into a crouch. Gingerly she stepped forward a couple of paces, her eyes never leaving the golden form ahead of her. Another instant. Her hind feet pumped up and down as her head lowered...

Like lightening she pounced! Coyote fell, hide and all, flat to the ground, a toothy grin sparkling in the moonlight. He was sure that in her hunter's lust, Cougar would not notice her real prey dropping from sight, and that she would mistake the swollen golden moon to be her prize. And he was positive that when she failed to take down her game, which assuredly she would --How could she possibly even touch the moon? -- the wind would go out of her sails and she would be forced to face the reality that she was no better than anyone else.

Now, if you have heard any of the old stories, and you know of Coyote's propensity for miscalculations, what happens next will not surprise you. A great broad paw, brandishing gleaming claws, shot out and, in front of Coyote's disbelieving eyes, slashed the moon! There was a great wailing of shock and pain as Grandmother Moon spun in place to face her attacker. However, the pained glares she sent through her tears at Cougar had no effect. On the contrary, when she realized what she had done, Cougar's head began to swell even more. She had proven her point and no one could now dispute her claim to be the greatest hunter in the forest!

Head and tail held high, she fairly danced off into the trees humming to herself, while Coyote slid off into the shadows, leaving Grandmother Moon to nurse her wounds, determined never again to face away from the earth.

D'oh! A Deer!

T'was the day before Christmas and all through the store

I searched for a gift, but they had it no more.

I guess that my friend was just "shoot out of luck"

But turns out with me it was where stopped the buck.

When a great mass of hair I spied up on a shelf

A huge bolt of energy shot through myself.

What could it be had on me such effect?

My shaking hand reached before I could reflect.

Then what to my wondering eyes should appear?

A hide-covered drum bag with fur of a deer.

"It looks to be Elk," I so quietly mused,

"Like the head of my drum!" I was very enthused.

"But wait," the thought hit me, "It's awfully small."

I knew then it wasn't an elk-hide at all.

Slowly a shiver washed over my frame.

I realized why it had called me by name.

A spirit guide who I had worked with at length

Was of the same species. The shiver grew strength!

Then there in the store, right before my mind's eye

Drew forth the fair creature whose skin I held nigh.

"My name is called Lucius. I'll answer to Luke."

The waves up my spine told me this was no fluke.

Hesitantly I turned over the tag

To see what it cost to bring home my drum bag.

"Breathe," Gently whispered my voice to my self,

Then I breathed a brief prayer to this deer's sovereign elf.

"I believe in you Santa, please grant me a boon.

I know this is mine for my drum Cougar Moon.

A holiday miracle's all I request.

Thank you dear Santa. I know you're the best!"

That's when it struck me. A spark lit my eyes,

For I had saved money three quarters the size

The price that I read on that dec'rative tag.

My dear inner-puppy's tail started to wag.

And that's how my reindeer drum bag came to call,

And now nests my drum where it hangs on my wall.

Elephants On Parade

The greatest hero of my childhood, by far, was Tarzan. I lived, played, and breathed Tarzan. Seriously. Ask my parents who got tired of me writing "Tarzan lives" on everything. I could even speak a bit of the language of the Mangani, the great apes that raised Tarzan. After I would watch a Tarzan movie (even the Johnny Weismueller ones which are probably my least favorites) I needed to run outside and climb trees. (On a side note, I haven't felt that for years until I saw the movie, Avatar.) Anyway, the point I am getting to is that Tarzan’s best animal friend, aside from Nkima the monkey and Jad-bal-ja the golden lion, was Tantor the elephant. So, not surprisingly, elephants have always been a part of my world, permeating even into my subconscious mind, playing major roles in at least two significant dreams that I remember.

In the first dream, I was walking down the main street of Rosemount, my home town, with an elephant. I was trying, in vain, to direct the elephant in the direction I wanted him to go by pushing and prodding him as I walked alongside him. All I ended up doing was tiring myself out with frustration. The next thing I knew, I was on the elephant’s back, Tarzan style, straddling the great neck. As we traversed the same street, I discovered that by simply applying pressure behind the elephant’s ears with my knees, I could easily direct the pachyderm anywhere I wished. Upon waking, the meaning seemed obvious to me. The elephant was my power, and when I was not aligned with it, trying to force it, I accomplished nothing. But, when I was in harmony with my personal power, things were effortless and I could go anywhere I wanted.

Somewhere in the early years following college, I had another elephant dream. I was in my parent’s house and was afraid to go outside, trapped by fear, for when I looked out the windows I saw great, hulking, dark elephants who had roiling storm clouds for ears. Scawy! Still, for some reason, I did venture outside, and once there found clear blue skies and a back yard completely devoid of elephants. Well, except for one. One little baby elephant rolling around in the grass, laughing and having a good time. Huh. This one took me a bit longer to decipher, but once I did it became a very powerful image in my growing personal mythology. While in my parent’s house, inside the parameters of their reality, and looking out their windows, their perspective on the world, the outside seemed scary and very threatening, even if it were simply a reflection of their own power. When I stepped out of their world and investigated the world for myself, I found a bright, happy world, and a playful personal power who was excited to grow with me.

Also, among the comic characters I drew as a child, and still do up to the present time, is an elephant called The Purple Pachyderm. Dumbo, apparently isn’t the only elephant who can fly! And he doesn’t have a nifty mask and cape!

Somewhere along the line, whether it was my exploration of various spiritual beliefs, or just my cartoonist propensity toward anthropomorphism, I discovered a connection with Ganesha, the elephant-headed deity of Hinduism. It's one of those things that just seems so natural, and to have always been, the beginning of which is buried deep in the shadows of my memory. For years I've had a couple mini Ganesha shrines (one of which is a refrigerator magnet) and he was the closest thing I had to a personal deity.

I still hold a special connection with, and admiration for Him which, apparently, isn't totally unreciprocated. During a recent energy healing that I was receiving, I saw this beam of blue light suddenly descend, and shortly realized that Ganesha was there dancing around. He told me He’d been watching me and that I was “worthy”. Worthy of what I never quite got, but since then it’s occurred to me, as I struggle with self-worth issues, being worthy is probably enough.

Where is this all going? I guess I'm setting the stage for the following encounter, and why I should not have been as surprised as I was. This past year has seen a number of 'new' spirit guides appearing to me, during shamanic journeys, meditations, and Jyorei -- the energy healings I mentioned above with Ganesha.

During a Jyorei session an elephant appeared to me. He was hanging around pretty consistently so I did the shamanic thing and asked three times if he was my spirit guide. He answered yes. I asked what gift he had for me. He opened his mouth and he was holding a huge diamond there. With his trunk he lifted it up and placed it in my third eye. I found out later from a friend that diamonds have a special meaning in Jyorei. After that I asked him what medicine he carried. I suddenly saw him stand to his whole height, whereas before all I could see was his head, and very dignified and majestically he stated “Legacy”. Very fitting for Samhain time meeting a guide to the ancestors!

Then, during an impromptu jyorei session after picking up that same friend from the airport and taking her to another friend's, where she had left her car during her Thanksgiving trip to Alaska, I had another encounter. I caught a glimpse of an animal bobbing its head up and down. What I at first took to be a horse I soon realized was the elephant, nodding at me. I asked what he had to share at the moment and he told me he could help me stay grounded. I didn’t make the connection at the time, but while I was being told this, the elephant was showering itself with dirt, blown from his trunk. ...Ground! I finally had the presence of mind to ask for a name, and right away I heard “Bathsheba”. “Oh! You’re female? I thought you were male. You have such a powerful presence.” “Of course. We are matriarchical.” Afterwards it occurred to me, what better animal is there to help you ground than an elephant?

Since then I've called on Bathsheba when I feel the need to ground --which is pretty often as I tend to live in my head. And when I ask, I can see her in my mind, stand up to her full height, then when she's sure she has my attention, one at a time she lifts, then stomps, her two front feet, very solidly, on the earth.

Atleast she doesn't tell me "No tv for a week!"

Not In Kansas...

I was sitting in Starbuck's yesterday with my best friend. I was the only one who had brought a laptop, so I was letting her catch up on emails and stuff, while I sat there quietly. After awhile she looked up at me and said "I hope you're not bored." "Oh, no," I replied, "I'm just sitting here talking to the octopus in that photograph on the wall." There was a pause. Then as she went back to typing on the computer I heard her say, "I love my friends."


Note: For those who are curious, the octopus in question, despite living in the water, had a very grounded energy. He spoke of the strength of softness, and likened his movements to those of Tai Chi, where you are taught that every motion is like a wheel with in a wheel.

No Sweat

I have done a couple of sweat lodges, both of which were very powerful for me, so when my friend decided to do one for New Year's Eve, I was very surprised not to be excited about it. Normally I would jump at the chance, especially on New Year's Eve! How better to prepare for the new year than to release the old by litterally sweating it out? Still I just kept feeling I wasn't going to take part, atleast inside. My friend totally honored my feelings, suggesting I be a fire tender instead. The image of standing alone by a blazing fire, in sacred space beneath the full blue moon, while others sang, prayed, and sweated nearby appealed to and lit a spark in me. How symbolic as I birth my own light! I felt extremely ready for this job, having spent a vast amount of hours building fires and poking at them with my dad on our family campouts as a boy.

As with most things, I didn't realize the full significance of things until after the event. In fact some have only now occurred to me as I write this. There I was under the watchful eye and guidance of Artemis, Goddess of the moon and of childbirth (and my personal Matron Goddess), tending the fire and standing watch, ready to help others who lay in the womb of the Earth preparing to be born again. Unwittingly I was following in Her footsteps. Wow!


Anyway, accepting the fire tender duties resolved my feelings of confusion, and I excitedly looked forward to this new honor. Of course I was expecting a nice quiet leisurely night of standing around, poking at the fire and gazing lovingly at the moon. ...That's not how it works.


We started preparing the lodge and getting ready for the ceremony. As we were choosing the Grandfater stones that we would heat in the fire then place in the lodge, thunder boomed through the air. My friend stopped. "Is that what I thought it was?" Again a booming rolled and resounded through the sky. The Thunder Beings had arrived, gracing us with their presence and witnessing our lodge. "Watch what you say," my friend reiterated what she'd told us earlier. "They're listening and anything you ask for, or challenge them with, you will face." "Have you got a gag I could borrow?" I replied, smiling, fully aware of the influence Coyote, the Trickster in Native American mythology, sometimes has over me.


We started stacking the 30 Grandfathers, and despite working with the 'bones of the Earth' I found myself very ungrounded, to the point of stumbling and tripping over things in the dark. Not surprisingly, our first attempt toppled and we had to start over. My friend reminded us "Listen to the stones. They will tell you where they go." We began building again, and I found as I quieted myself and picked up each stone, I would see where it would fit on our growing stack. The second attempt stood. We lit the fire from the four directions, then let it burn for a few hours, allowing the lava rocks to heat to the point of glowing.


Finally we were ready to start, so one by one everybody turned to the four directions, knelt down, and crawled into the lodge. That's when my job became more active, and I was surprised at how winded I got, digging 10 stones out of the fire, balancing them on a pitchfork as I carried them, first to get the ashes brushed off, then to the sweat lodge where I slid them, still on the pitch fork, on the ground and deposited them in the pit that was dug into the middle of the lodge. They were big and heavy and literally red hot, and it was with a sigh of relief that I sat down outside after closing the door flap of the lodge. A lot more work than I thought!
I walked around the fire, feeling like a mother alligator burying her eggs and keeping them protected and warm, as I swept burning wood and coals over the stones, now strewn around the sacred fire. I paused a number of times to look up at Grandmother Moon shining brilliantly down upon me, and I whispered a prayer of thanks to Pan, Greek god of Nature, for answering my request for a clear night. There were still sprinkles here and there but for the most part it was perfect.


In the lane between the fire and the lodge was a small altar, and part of my job was to keep the candle on it lit. This proved impossible under the branches of the hazel trees that shelter the lodge, for they continued to drip water even if it weren't raining. After burning my finger on my last attempt to light the candle, I looked up at the moon, framed beautifully in the dark lines of the branches, and realized She was providing the light for the altar tonight. I smiled and sat back at my post outside the door of the lodge. Then, even though I wasn't sweating with everyone else, I began my own cleansing. Tears began to fall.


Toward the end of the third round of adding new stones and closing the door, one of the participants said he needed to get out. This is not uncommon as this is a very intense experience that pushes people to their limits. Anyone is allowed out at anytime they feel it neccessary. However, this person, as he arrived at the opening of the lodge, passed out.

It was interesting where my mind went at that point. Still feeling rather ungrounded, all my fears lept to the forefront of my brain. Granted, I've never been around someone when they pass out, so that was unnerving in itself. But as we helped him come around, got him to the fire and retrieved some water for him to drink, my thoughts kept ranging back and forth, rooting up old doubts and fears, mostly about "what if none of this is real and someone nearly died?" The funny thing is that earlier that day I had been talking to another friend about my vision quest, saying one of the biggest things that came out of that experience was the realization that I could no longer pretend these things were not real. I do hear my spirit guides speaking to me. I do tune into the feelings of others. I do talk to animals, particularly, it seems, dead ones. But here I was questioning again.

The ceremony continued it's 4th and last round uneventfully, but I was feeling pretty shaken. I did start feeling better, even to the point of joking and laughing, as we returned to the house afterwards and ate a bit of food, despite it now being 2am. The man who had passed out was recovering, which did wonders for my mood. Still the little doubts and questions persisted, and were still present when I awoke the next morning. "Where is this coming from?" I kept asking myself. "I've already dealt with this crap. I've been through this before. Why is it coming up again?" I walked into my friend's bathroom, my head still wrangling with these thoughts.


All it took was a moment to regain my balance and groundedness. I looked up and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar flash of light. It was a faery.


"Okay! It is all real!" :)


NOTE: I should state that the man who passed out did not nearly die. That was just one of the fear thoughts running around in my brain.