First Class

I'm part of a newly formed group, Seattle Shamanic Teacher's Collective, whose objective is for one of us to be teaching an Introduction to Shamanic Journey class somewhere in the Seattle area once a month.  Last Saturday was my turn, and my first shamanic teaching gig ever.  Well, there was the talk I did a Summer or two ago when I was working a psychic fair, where all readers had to give a 15-20 minute talk, and I spoke about Animal Spirit Guides and led a guided meditation for people to find an animal guide.  That was a great warm up for this latest experience.  And like that time, as the magick moment approached I found myself more excited than nervous -- at least until the last minute.

Like I mentioned in an earlier post, teaching is one of the careers I day dreamed about doing when I was a kid (and now the only one left I haven't really done yet is acting -- not counting being the Little Drummer Boy in Fourth grade -- though I do have ideas about how to introduce puppets into my classes for children...), so rather than being a huge stretch into unknown territory, it felt more like stepping into a space that was waiting for me -- stepping into another aspect of my own power.  I was born to do this.  And it seemed a natural next step for me. 

A little over two and a half years ago I went on a vision quest, and in the middle of it White Buffalo Calf Woman appeared to me (actually for the 2nd time) and she told me, "Your path is to be shared."  Shortly afterwards I began this blog to follow through with that Divine request and to share my path.  And now comes the opportunity to share my path in a new way.  It just felt perfect.

So as the date approached a niggling voice in the back of my head started whispering in my ear, saying I wasn't prepared enough.  I still needed to study up, make lots of notes to read from, etc, etc, etc.  Though I was still very excited, the nerves started gaining strength and I started wondering if I really was prepared.  Finally, the night before my debut I sat down with an outline given to me from another teacher, intending to write my own outline and notes to make sure I was covered, and to make sure it was worth my student's time.  But as I looked over the outline, all I could picture was myself in front of the class lifelessly reading off the notes -- "Bueller? Bueller?" Talk about wasting my student's time!  They might as well read a book.  No, this was not a high school book report.  This was a subject I was passionate about, a passion I wished to pass on and inspire others with.  My goal was to empower the attendees, not bore them within an inch of their lives.

At a loss for what more to do in order to get ready, I decided to journey to Hortance, the spirit guide who recently introduced himself as my teaching guide (see my post Teacher's Pet) to get his insight.  When I asked my question of him he walked up to me and placed his wing on my heart.  Two and a half years ago,on that same aforementioned vision quest, amidst the chanting of the stone people in the sweat lodge as the first rays of daylight began to warm my shivering form, the spirits whispered my name in my ear, and now my owl invoked that name, saying to me, "Speaks His Heart must speak his heart.  Trust your experience.  Trust your knowledge.  You will know what to say."

For the first time I was also made to realize what a significant step this was.  This simple, seemingly
insignificant two hour class was nothing short of a full-blown initiation, another death/rebirth, a letting go of everything I'd been taught up to this point and stepping into the unknown where things, and I, would never be the same again.

Along with this epiphany came a mini movie and I watched this man (Me?!) walking toward a cliff.  He had this heavy pack on his back.  Though I didn't see anyone else there, a voice asked, "Would you set aside everything you've ever been told, or believed about yourself, if someone told you that by doing so you could fly?"  Without hesitation the man laid down this ever increasingly heavy pack, in which he carried all his misconceptions and misperceptions of himself, and turning, stepped one foot of the cliff and with the other lightly pushed off the ledge, as if casting off a canoe, floating in the air before soaring off into the sky.

I returned to 'Ordinary Reality' and, with a sigh, tucked the outline away.  "Alright, I'll try it your way," I said out loud to Hortance.  Can owls smile?  I'm pretty sure Hortance did.  On one hand this had alleviated some nerves, but, as in all death/rebirth experiences I've had, there comes this anxious moment when you really have to let go of the past -- consciously part with the seeming safety of the way things 'have always been done' --and lay down the heavy pack of accumulated baggage if you are going to be light enough to fly into and embrace a new expansive future.

And as it turned out, of course, I really had nothing to worry about.  My worry had been that I would run out of things to say, but we ended up going a half hour overtime because I got so carried away with talking and telling my experiences and answering questions, that I almost ran out of time to have each person experience their own journey.  And every person did journey and met a guide, taking the first step on their personal shamanic path of empowerment. And what an honor, that the lessons of all my experiences,
enjoyable and not-so-much, find fruition in touching others' lives and lessons!  And how grateful I am to those brave souls who showed their faith, in me and their own guidance, by signing up for this first leap off the cliff with me!  Eternal thanks to my First Class!