I'm a cartoonist. So it should come as no surprise that I enjoy superhero movies and cartoons. Well, the other night I watched a movie called All Star Superman, based on a comic by the same name, and it brought home why I've always identified with Superman more than with Batman. I mean the darkness does have its allure, and I even remember a childhood dream where I was Batman, but I just am not a creature of the darkness -- of the night. And it's interesting that Batman's totem is the symbol for shamanic death -- which is a transitional state. I have been through the dark, but I don't live there.
On the other hand this movie brought to light, literally, what things look like from Superman's perspective. In fact, it was the undoing of Lex Luthor, Superman's Arch nemesis. The main point that I love about the story is that Lex concocts a serum that will give him Superman's power for 24 hours. As he is poised and on the brink of taking over the world, he stops. Suddenly he can see the world the way Superman sees it all the time -- the entire electromagnetic spectrum, atoms, clouds of possibilities and the fact that every thing -- every one -- is connected. Suddenly there is no point to taking over the world. How can you be anything but benevolent when you can see -- physically see -- that we are all one? What is left to take over?
I love when spirituality/quantum-physics shows up in our modern mythology of movies, television, books, and comics. In a way superheroes are some of the gods of our age, whose stories thrill us, and teach us, just as stories around the campfire have done for countless eons. They give us a glimpse into our humanness as well as give us not just the inspiration to move beyond our perceived limits, but the blue-print on how to do it.
So, speaking from my comic-book-geek-fan-boy, I understand now being more drawn to Superman, whose world view is based on unity and wholeness, than Batman, whose world view is based on separation.
And then there's Wonder Woman. She is something else all together. But I will reserve that, as well as Batman and Shamanic Death, for another time. :)
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Thursday, March 8, 2012
...M - O - U - S - E
Earlier this year I did a Medicine Card spread for myself to find out what I needed to know at that point. I even went to the trouble of laying the cards out on a piece of leather, clicking a photo of it, and uploading it here as a draft, intending to come back later and write about it. Stuff happens and time passes. Then out of curiosity I look into this draft of a post to find just this photo (well, and I had written "LA LA LA" over it... ) and, considering all the time that's passed since I had originally intended to write about this reading, I was about to delete it, when I looked at it again. Holy crap! This particular reading has as much, if not more, meaning to me now as it did the month or two ago that I'd done it.
So this is how I read it --
Balancing this in the West, the realm of water and emotion is Coyote, the trickster. His medicine is about the need to lighten up, usually manifesting itself in the 'Wile E' style of tripping oneself up or getting caught in one's own snares. Probably indicates some turbulence and confusion, though in the upright position shows purpose in the chaos.
And balancing this in the North is Porcupine. This is where it gets really interesting. Porcupine is basically the inner child, full of innocence and playfulness. It speaks of a return to the simplicity of a child, and seeing the world with eyes of wonder and adventure. Now, I had no plans for this at the time of the reading, but a couple of weeks ago I received a soul retrieval, and I was reunited with my four year old self. The shamanic practitioner who did this for me saw my four year old running through the woods, with a total sense of freedom, as well as knowing my oneness with everything around me -- the essence of Porcupine!
Finally, in the Center, the hub of the wheel that connects all the other directions, sits Mouse. Mouse is about paying attention to whats in front of you, the here-and-now, and your own little world. It is staying centered and cleaning your own house, so there's no room for empires here. Lay low and let the bigger picture take care of itself. I have things to do, at a fundamental level of my personal world, before I can move forward with any plans of world domination (insert "Pinky and the Brain" theme song here).
And now, more complete with my child-like heart at the wheel, I set out to focus on taking care of myself -- who I am becoming and what I am called to do, not what I'm suppose to do, once more at the center of my own life, learning not to sweat the small stuff and let the big stuff take care of itself.
In the East, the realm of air and mind, reversed, is Elk. Elk medicine is about power and stamina, Elk's main defense being running and out distancing any predators, so in reverse this shows a lack of those qualities, and perhaps the need not to run.
I see these two working together -- I've got a lot of career plans for the near future and have been in a hurry to get going on them, to the point of feeling behind schedule, but this combination was showing me to slow down. I recently tried to go off of zoloft, which I've been on for about seven years, and, with the help of my Naturopath, try some more natural alternatives. I ended up back on zoloft and the past couple months have been a bit turbulent emotionally -- all my energy going to balancing my emotional self -- so I have not had the mental focus to stride ahead with my empire building intentions.
Then in the South, the place of fire, passion, and action flies Hummingbird. "Follow your bliss," she hums in my ear. "Do what brings you joy!" This comes as I question everything, including what it is I truly want to do with my life. Recently things have started taking on the feeling of duty, like some outside higher authority is dictating that I must do and become certain things, and some of that was bleeding into my career aspirations. And I had a realization somewhere in the past couple months that all I've ever wanted to do is draw comics. That is my joy. That is my bliss. And I am passionate about shamanism. I just need to follow my heart and not worry about living up to outside standards of what any of that should look like. My heart is my authority.
And balancing this in the North is Porcupine. This is where it gets really interesting. Porcupine is basically the inner child, full of innocence and playfulness. It speaks of a return to the simplicity of a child, and seeing the world with eyes of wonder and adventure. Now, I had no plans for this at the time of the reading, but a couple of weeks ago I received a soul retrieval, and I was reunited with my four year old self. The shamanic practitioner who did this for me saw my four year old running through the woods, with a total sense of freedom, as well as knowing my oneness with everything around me -- the essence of Porcupine!
Finally, in the Center, the hub of the wheel that connects all the other directions, sits Mouse. Mouse is about paying attention to whats in front of you, the here-and-now, and your own little world. It is staying centered and cleaning your own house, so there's no room for empires here. Lay low and let the bigger picture take care of itself. I have things to do, at a fundamental level of my personal world, before I can move forward with any plans of world domination (insert "Pinky and the Brain" theme song here).
So it is interesting that, having forgotten about this reading, I have lived it, being rather sequestered for a number of months in my own little world, seeking out my joy, as well as a balance of my mental and emotional realms. And as the haze begins to clear from my mind, a hint of happiness and freedom bubbles to the surface and I remember I don't have to save the world. As Sandra Ingerman says -- "It's not what you do but who you become that changes the world."
And now, more complete with my child-like heart at the wheel, I set out to focus on taking care of myself -- who I am becoming and what I am called to do, not what I'm suppose to do, once more at the center of my own life, learning not to sweat the small stuff and let the big stuff take care of itself.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
2012 -- Year of the Cormorant
So much has happened in my life in 2011, accelerating particularly during the latter half of the year, and I'm feeling poised on a launch pad of sorts waiting for things to really take off. And something keeps telling me, "THIS is the year!"
New Year's Eve, and I found myself extremely restless. I had to get out of my apartment and found myself at the nearby park, looking over the still waters of Clark Lake at Grandmother Moon, and speaking to Her of all the things I had to be grateful for over the past year...
A couple weeks prior, realizing all the growth I'd been through and the significance of the possibilities of all the things to come that perched somewhere on my horizon, I recognized the timing was right for a rite of passage for cleansing and releasing the past in order to move uninhibitedly into the coming year. Enter a sweat lodge ceremony at a magickal place I knew of on Bainbridge Island in Puget Sound. It had been a while since I'd been in a sweat lodge, but I found myself excited, and a bit nervous, at the prospect of such a perfect ritual with such perfect timing. Even as we were taking our turns touching our heads to the ground at the door of the lodge with a prayer, "Aho Matakwiasin, All My Relations," and crawling into our places in this womb of the earth, I was nervous and excited.
It is an amazing thing to sit in the semi-dark with like-minded folks in the trust and innocence of nakedness as the glowing stones are passed through the small door into the pit at the center of the lodge, the kiss of sweet grass and lavender upon the stones tingeing the air with invigorating and soothing scents, before the door is closed, leaving us in total darkness aside from the stone people's soft, orange glow. Then the water sings on the heated surfaces with a woosh of billowing steam a mere moment before the wave of heat hits my body, and I breathe the hot dampness through my mouth all the way into my lungs, realizing that sweat is pouring out of my every pore. My hands dig into the coolness of the earth to balance the heat, and I roar, and cry, and sing, the river of sweat carrying from me all that needs to be released to make room for the blessings and promises of the new year.
After two of the four rounds I check with my guides and, feeling my time inside the lodge is complete, I leave, again pausing at the door to touch my forehead to the earth and whisper a prayer to All My Relations. Then, after the exhiliration and freedom of literally running naked through the woods, I put on a robe and take a place next to fire where the lodge stones are being heated, feeling cleaned out and content.
Once the the lodge is finished and everyone is in various states of getting dressed and gathering their things, I head up to the main house where we will share a pot luck meal, and stepping out of the meadow into the trees, am struck by the pure enchantment of the woodland path being lit by the half-full moon. That took my breath away even more than the lodge itself did.
Once home, one of the first things I reach for is a book on Animal Spirit Guides. On my way across the Sound that morning, standing on the bow of the ferry, a movement caught my eye, and I watched a cormorant sail in a graceful arc right in front of the boat, just inches above the water. First animal guide of the year! I wonder if it will set the tone of 2012 for me. The full significance of this didn't strike me, though, until I opened the book to find out what Cormorant medicine was.
Aside from the lesson I'm already aware of, and taking care of, of taking breaks for myself between work and projects (cormorants are famous for standing in the sun after fishing in order for their outstretched wings to dry), the main power this bird brings is the ability to reach and attain seemingly impossible dreams...
...THIS is the year!
New Year's Eve, and I found myself extremely restless. I had to get out of my apartment and found myself at the nearby park, looking over the still waters of Clark Lake at Grandmother Moon, and speaking to Her of all the things I had to be grateful for over the past year...
- I have published some of my comics through an online publisher
- I was able to strengthen my path by taking courses from a couple of shamanic teachers whom I've admired for a very long time
- In one aforementioned course I learned Soul Retrieval, which, besides making me feel like an "official" Shamanic Practitioner, allowed me to witness and experience amazing results in people's lives
- Another course allowed me to expand my horizons by arranging my own flight and accommodations, which were not only not to Minnesota to visit family, but were to a state and city I'd never been to before
- In the aforementioned course I met someone who could very well be the love of my life
- After the aforementioned course I was accepted into Sandra Ingerman's Two Year Teachers Training program
- I taught my first Shamanic class
A couple weeks prior, realizing all the growth I'd been through and the significance of the possibilities of all the things to come that perched somewhere on my horizon, I recognized the timing was right for a rite of passage for cleansing and releasing the past in order to move uninhibitedly into the coming year. Enter a sweat lodge ceremony at a magickal place I knew of on Bainbridge Island in Puget Sound. It had been a while since I'd been in a sweat lodge, but I found myself excited, and a bit nervous, at the prospect of such a perfect ritual with such perfect timing. Even as we were taking our turns touching our heads to the ground at the door of the lodge with a prayer, "Aho Matakwiasin, All My Relations," and crawling into our places in this womb of the earth, I was nervous and excited.
It is an amazing thing to sit in the semi-dark with like-minded folks in the trust and innocence of nakedness as the glowing stones are passed through the small door into the pit at the center of the lodge, the kiss of sweet grass and lavender upon the stones tingeing the air with invigorating and soothing scents, before the door is closed, leaving us in total darkness aside from the stone people's soft, orange glow. Then the water sings on the heated surfaces with a woosh of billowing steam a mere moment before the wave of heat hits my body, and I breathe the hot dampness through my mouth all the way into my lungs, realizing that sweat is pouring out of my every pore. My hands dig into the coolness of the earth to balance the heat, and I roar, and cry, and sing, the river of sweat carrying from me all that needs to be released to make room for the blessings and promises of the new year.
After two of the four rounds I check with my guides and, feeling my time inside the lodge is complete, I leave, again pausing at the door to touch my forehead to the earth and whisper a prayer to All My Relations. Then, after the exhiliration and freedom of literally running naked through the woods, I put on a robe and take a place next to fire where the lodge stones are being heated, feeling cleaned out and content.
Once the the lodge is finished and everyone is in various states of getting dressed and gathering their things, I head up to the main house where we will share a pot luck meal, and stepping out of the meadow into the trees, am struck by the pure enchantment of the woodland path being lit by the half-full moon. That took my breath away even more than the lodge itself did.
Aside from the lesson I'm already aware of, and taking care of, of taking breaks for myself between work and projects (cormorants are famous for standing in the sun after fishing in order for their outstretched wings to dry), the main power this bird brings is the ability to reach and attain seemingly impossible dreams...
...THIS is the year!
Saturday, December 17, 2011
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!
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!
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Third Eye's The Charm
I had just experienced one of the most wonderful weekends I remember. Yet all good things must end. Perhaps it was having to say good-bye to my guest, or nerves about my upcoming teaching debut, or just the encroaching darkness of this time of year, but what ever it was, something left me with a constant sinking, churning feeling in my stomach -- a familiar sensation from my days of panic attacks and depression -- when the weekend was over.
"Crap! Aren't I done with this stuff yet? Do I really have to go here again?" But that's where I went for the last few days -- at least far enough to dip my feet into that familiar, uncomfortable feeling of being cloaked in this buzzing, erratic, jagged energy that squeezes my shoulders, disturbs my stomach, and clouds my head. Blech!
I kept trying to remind myself that this is how I feel before making a great leap forward. It's like my energy retreats inside of me, coiling for a spring, yet this withdrawal of energy leaves me feeling vulnerable and only partially present. Double Blech!!
So finally I did what I should have done all along -- asking for guidance. I talked to Goddess, to Artemis, to Nathaniel, to any and all guides hanging around -- "Please show me what I need to do to heal this."
Shortly after that, I had a sudden memory surface from the most recent shamanic workshop I'd attended. We had done a journey asking for information on what we can do to on a daily basis to remember our Divinity, and one of the answers that came to me was, "Every morning when you wake up, open all three eyes!"
On the heals of that memory came an older memory of another journey. In a shamanic class a couple years ago, around this same time of year, we journeyed to our guides to ask, "What gift do I have to help me get through the dark times without so much difficulty?" This is what I wrote:
So I went to Nathaniel, asked him my question, and he promptly flew into the air, zipping around in loop-dee-loops. "What are you doing?" "I'm helping you fly above everything to get perspective." "That's fine and all, but I'm not finding that very helpful at the moment. What else have you got?"
At that point he straightened out and stopped in the air. I'm not sure that I was on his back before, but I was now. He said "Look there." My eyes followed his nose to find it was pointing toward a very bright star. "That is your North Star. It will always help you keep your bearings."
Sometimes these otherworld experiences seem a little too convenient. My favorite book is Finding Your Own North Star by Martha Beck. On one hand I was thrilled to have found mine. On the other, was I just making it up because of the book? Still, I've found that usually these things turn out to be convenient, or obvious, because of the fact that they're true. I went with it.
As I looked at my North Star I realized what I was really looking at was my third eye. Nathaniel confirmed this saying when I get into confusion and turmoil, to open my third eye, as well as my crown chakra. "Where are your emotions?" he asked. Instantly my attention went to my chest and heart where the churned up past still swirled around my shoulders. "If you don't keep your upper chakras open, your head will become immersed in your emotions. By opening your third eye you maintain a distance, staying above them, and are able to see more clearly. You will still feel them, but being able to see will help clear them more easily."
Again the third eye! So I focused my attention on my forehead, maybe even closing my physical eyes to do so, and instantly felt this swirling, flowering energy there -- kind of like the opening of the worm hole on Star Trek Deep Space Nine. The effect was almost immediate. All the buzzing, static, interference that I'd been encased in for days suddenly evaporated. My stomach still felt off center and not totally right, but the weight and pressure of the building steam, like a pot of water put on to boil, just vanished as if my third eye, my sixth chakra, was a release valve allowing that pressure to escape and dissipate. Holy crap! How easy was that?!
That was yesterday. Last night I had one of the most peaceful night's sleep I remember. And today I not only felt 100% better, I also had a number of various intuitive hits and visions, allowing me to sink beneath the surface of reality and taste of the twinkling magick behind all things. It just took me opening my eyes -- all three of them -- to see it.
"Crap! Aren't I done with this stuff yet? Do I really have to go here again?" But that's where I went for the last few days -- at least far enough to dip my feet into that familiar, uncomfortable feeling of being cloaked in this buzzing, erratic, jagged energy that squeezes my shoulders, disturbs my stomach, and clouds my head. Blech!
I kept trying to remind myself that this is how I feel before making a great leap forward. It's like my energy retreats inside of me, coiling for a spring, yet this withdrawal of energy leaves me feeling vulnerable and only partially present. Double Blech!!
So finally I did what I should have done all along -- asking for guidance. I talked to Goddess, to Artemis, to Nathaniel, to any and all guides hanging around -- "Please show me what I need to do to heal this."
Shortly after that, I had a sudden memory surface from the most recent shamanic workshop I'd attended. We had done a journey asking for information on what we can do to on a daily basis to remember our Divinity, and one of the answers that came to me was, "Every morning when you wake up, open all three eyes!"
On the heals of that memory came an older memory of another journey. In a shamanic class a couple years ago, around this same time of year, we journeyed to our guides to ask, "What gift do I have to help me get through the dark times without so much difficulty?" This is what I wrote:
So I went to Nathaniel, asked him my question, and he promptly flew into the air, zipping around in loop-dee-loops. "What are you doing?" "I'm helping you fly above everything to get perspective." "That's fine and all, but I'm not finding that very helpful at the moment. What else have you got?"
At that point he straightened out and stopped in the air. I'm not sure that I was on his back before, but I was now. He said "Look there." My eyes followed his nose to find it was pointing toward a very bright star. "That is your North Star. It will always help you keep your bearings."
Sometimes these otherworld experiences seem a little too convenient. My favorite book is Finding Your Own North Star by Martha Beck. On one hand I was thrilled to have found mine. On the other, was I just making it up because of the book? Still, I've found that usually these things turn out to be convenient, or obvious, because of the fact that they're true. I went with it.
As I looked at my North Star I realized what I was really looking at was my third eye. Nathaniel confirmed this saying when I get into confusion and turmoil, to open my third eye, as well as my crown chakra. "Where are your emotions?" he asked. Instantly my attention went to my chest and heart where the churned up past still swirled around my shoulders. "If you don't keep your upper chakras open, your head will become immersed in your emotions. By opening your third eye you maintain a distance, staying above them, and are able to see more clearly. You will still feel them, but being able to see will help clear them more easily."
Again the third eye! So I focused my attention on my forehead, maybe even closing my physical eyes to do so, and instantly felt this swirling, flowering energy there -- kind of like the opening of the worm hole on Star Trek Deep Space Nine. The effect was almost immediate. All the buzzing, static, interference that I'd been encased in for days suddenly evaporated. My stomach still felt off center and not totally right, but the weight and pressure of the building steam, like a pot of water put on to boil, just vanished as if my third eye, my sixth chakra, was a release valve allowing that pressure to escape and dissipate. Holy crap! How easy was that?!
That was yesterday. Last night I had one of the most peaceful night's sleep I remember. And today I not only felt 100% better, I also had a number of various intuitive hits and visions, allowing me to sink beneath the surface of reality and taste of the twinkling magick behind all things. It just took me opening my eyes -- all three of them -- to see it.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Random Thanks
Realizing that it is focusing on what's working, counting my blessings, gratitude for what I have, that increases the abundance of those things in my life, for Thanksgiving I made a list of 101 random things I am grateful for--
1. A councelor who tells me to listen to the voices in my head 2. Chocolate milk 3. William Shatner 4. A warehouse job that allows me to listen to Classical Music 5. Adults who still believe in Santa 6. Long naps with my cats 7. The ability to entertain myself with my own creativity 8. Silence 9. Whimsy 10. Stars to wish upon 11. Where ever it is I go when doing something I love, like drawing comics 12. Rainbows 13. Muppet harmony 14. Everything that led me to being where I am right now -- even the 'bad' stuff 15. Oatmeal -- the perfect food 16. A quiver of new arrows on my back and a beautifully curved bow in my hand 17. Snuggling 18. Friends who become family and family that becomes friends 19. The glory of the full moon 20. Campfires... 21. ...And catching whiffs of wood smoke in my hair for days afterwards 22. Puppy breath 23. Wild places 24. The Faerie folk (and Pixie friends!) 25. Ullian pipes 26. Grande Vanilla Chai 27. Eyes that shine with laughter and wisdom 28. Laughing until my jaw hurts 29. People who are following their bliss, living passionately, and doing what they love 30. Rainbows 31. Moments of deep connection with someone I love 32. Hugs 33. Root beer... 34. ...floats 35. Long, lingering kisses 36. That feeling that lasts into the next day after spending time with someone special 37. Couches to nap on 38. The feeling of awe that comes from looking at something "I" created with the disbelif that it actually came through me 39. Cereal that is just soggy enough 40. Falling asleep to the sound of drums, and waking up to the sound of clanking armor 41. Shoulders to cry on 42. Piggies in a blanket 43. Danny Kay 44. That Xena came along when she did 45. Interlibrary loans 46. Good stories whether ancient sagas, epic poems, faerytales, graphic novels, movies, or what ever 47. Falling asleep to the song of frogs and/or crickets 48. Brilliant puns 49. Rituals with kindred spirits 50. Rainbows 51. Cuddling 52. Egg nog 53. Walking in woods which transform into Sherwood Forest before my eyes 54. Wombats 55. Bells and chimes that give voice to the winds 56. Dancing 57. Bruce Campbell 58. Deep abiding mysteries 59. Coon skin caps and buckskin jackets with fringe 60. Reverse blade swords 61. The Nav'i 62. Faerieworlds 63. Feathers 64. Big dogs 65. Rainbows 70. Glitter 71. Brother Cadfael 72. Jeeves and Wooster 73. Felicity Kendal 74. The honking of geese on the wing 75. Gravel roads 76. Skipping stones 77. A garden burger with mushrooms and swiss cheese... 78. ...Hanging out at the Roanoke Inn 79. The feel of the earth beneath bare feet 80. PBS quilting shows 81. Errol Flynn 82. People to talk to about the 'weird stuff' 83. Seven foot tall, invisible rabbits 84. Rainbows 85. Hope 86. That Honor and Chivalry still live 87. Nag champa 88. A Universe that is safe, friendly, and abundant 89. Four legged, furry children 90. The smell of wet dog 91. Oneness 92. That 42 is the answer and no one knows what the question is 93. Half Price Books 94. The smell of the farm 95. Amazing and breath-taking synchronicities 96. That even when I can't see or believe it, the Universe is unfolding in perfect harmony 97. The soft, gentle kindness of friends' support when I'm feeling weak and/or afraid 98. Smiles that begin in the eyes 99. The sparkly, twinkling magick that underlies all things 100. Being raised near Lake Wobegon 101. Did I mention rainbows?
1. A councelor who tells me to listen to the voices in my head 2. Chocolate milk 3. William Shatner 4. A warehouse job that allows me to listen to Classical Music 5. Adults who still believe in Santa 6. Long naps with my cats 7. The ability to entertain myself with my own creativity 8. Silence 9. Whimsy 10. Stars to wish upon 11. Where ever it is I go when doing something I love, like drawing comics 12. Rainbows 13. Muppet harmony 14. Everything that led me to being where I am right now -- even the 'bad' stuff 15. Oatmeal -- the perfect food 16. A quiver of new arrows on my back and a beautifully curved bow in my hand 17. Snuggling 18. Friends who become family and family that becomes friends 19. The glory of the full moon 20. Campfires... 21. ...And catching whiffs of wood smoke in my hair for days afterwards 22. Puppy breath 23. Wild places 24. The Faerie folk (and Pixie friends!) 25. Ullian pipes 26. Grande Vanilla Chai 27. Eyes that shine with laughter and wisdom 28. Laughing until my jaw hurts 29. People who are following their bliss, living passionately, and doing what they love 30. Rainbows 31. Moments of deep connection with someone I love 32. Hugs 33. Root beer... 34. ...floats 35. Long, lingering kisses 36. That feeling that lasts into the next day after spending time with someone special 37. Couches to nap on 38. The feeling of awe that comes from looking at something "I" created with the disbelif that it actually came through me 39. Cereal that is just soggy enough 40. Falling asleep to the sound of drums, and waking up to the sound of clanking armor 41. Shoulders to cry on 42. Piggies in a blanket 43. Danny Kay 44. That Xena came along when she did 45. Interlibrary loans 46. Good stories whether ancient sagas, epic poems, faerytales, graphic novels, movies, or what ever 47. Falling asleep to the song of frogs and/or crickets 48. Brilliant puns 49. Rituals with kindred spirits 50. Rainbows 51. Cuddling 52. Egg nog 53. Walking in woods which transform into Sherwood Forest before my eyes 54. Wombats 55. Bells and chimes that give voice to the winds 56. Dancing 57. Bruce Campbell 58. Deep abiding mysteries 59. Coon skin caps and buckskin jackets with fringe 60. Reverse blade swords 61. The Nav'i 62. Faerieworlds 63. Feathers 64. Big dogs 65. Rainbows 70. Glitter 71. Brother Cadfael 72. Jeeves and Wooster 73. Felicity Kendal 74. The honking of geese on the wing 75. Gravel roads 76. Skipping stones 77. A garden burger with mushrooms and swiss cheese... 78. ...Hanging out at the Roanoke Inn 79. The feel of the earth beneath bare feet 80. PBS quilting shows 81. Errol Flynn 82. People to talk to about the 'weird stuff' 83. Seven foot tall, invisible rabbits 84. Rainbows 85. Hope 86. That Honor and Chivalry still live 87. Nag champa 88. A Universe that is safe, friendly, and abundant 89. Four legged, furry children 90. The smell of wet dog 91. Oneness 92. That 42 is the answer and no one knows what the question is 93. Half Price Books 94. The smell of the farm 95. Amazing and breath-taking synchronicities 96. That even when I can't see or believe it, the Universe is unfolding in perfect harmony 97. The soft, gentle kindness of friends' support when I'm feeling weak and/or afraid 98. Smiles that begin in the eyes 99. The sparkly, twinkling magick that underlies all things 100. Being raised near Lake Wobegon 101. Did I mention rainbows?
Thursday, November 3, 2011
The Healing Is Mutual
It wasn't a bad day exactly, in fact bad days have, thankfully, been a rare oddity of late, but this afternoon I did have an emotional challenge that, though it didn't lay me low, did at one point have tears rolling down my cheeks (in the middle of work where, gratefully, most everyone but me was at lunch).
On my lunch break I decided to treat myself to an Egg Nogg Chai (heaven in a cup!) and on the way to the espresso stand I looked over at the pond that is kitty-corner across the street from my day-job, noticing all the ducks and geese there and deciding it would be a healing thing for me to take a walk there, to perhaps find some nice feathers as well as just to connect with Nature.
So upon my return, my cup of 'ambrosia' warming my little tummy, walk I did. Slowly and consciously I strolled around the edge of the water, watching the water birds changing their swimming patterns according to my position. I walked with my hands open, my arms at a slight angle from my sides, so I could feel the energy of the earth. Very healing indeed.
The thing that struck me strangely was that, just within the last few days a crew from the city had come in and cut down all the trees and foliage that fringed the pond (which in itself is interesting timing with Samhain and all, amidst a lot of death I've witnessed this season) but the energy of the place was still vital. A scene that a short time ago would have broken my heart, I was looking upon from a very different perspective. In the recent shamanic workshop in Santa Fe we really learned how in order to heal someone you can't see them as sick. You can acknowledge the challenges, but you always see the person, or in this case the land, as whole.
As I circled around the far end of the pond, feeling more energized and whole myself from the healing vibes of the earth, I silently addressed 'The Spirit of the Land' asking what I could do to help it heal. "You're doing it," came the gentle reply with a hint of a smile, and though I hadn't seen a single feather so far, as soon as the voice spoke in my mind, I spotted a single downy feather at my feet.
"But, but, but..." I started to protest, expecting some elaborate ceremony involving drums and moonlight and dancing of some sort, "Are you sure you're not just my own mind trying to make my feel important?" "Very sure," came the distinct voice, this time spoken with almost a laugh, "As you walk in wholeness and heal yourself, you heal the land you stand upon. It is that simple. Besides that, we have been less ravaged than the land around us and are for the most part still intact."
I looked around at the warehouses encroaching on this little oasis of wildlife, and realized what bit of destruction here was but a mere 'trim off the top' compared to the 'development' of the land surrounding it.
I had just about completed my circle around the pond, and I wondered at how curious it was -- healing the Earth which I was receiving healing from. Curious indeed. And suddenly I realized there was one more thing I could do to seal our mutual healing. A song had, unbidden, lept to my mind and onto my lips as I found myself singing out loud over the rippling waters.
EE EE
HEE LA HEE
YO EE EE
HEE LA HEE
YO
What the words, if that's what you can call them, mean or where the fully formed tune came from I do not know, but the resulting healing was mutual, I assure you.
On my lunch break I decided to treat myself to an Egg Nogg Chai (heaven in a cup!) and on the way to the espresso stand I looked over at the pond that is kitty-corner across the street from my day-job, noticing all the ducks and geese there and deciding it would be a healing thing for me to take a walk there, to perhaps find some nice feathers as well as just to connect with Nature.
So upon my return, my cup of 'ambrosia' warming my little tummy, walk I did. Slowly and consciously I strolled around the edge of the water, watching the water birds changing their swimming patterns according to my position. I walked with my hands open, my arms at a slight angle from my sides, so I could feel the energy of the earth. Very healing indeed.
The thing that struck me strangely was that, just within the last few days a crew from the city had come in and cut down all the trees and foliage that fringed the pond (which in itself is interesting timing with Samhain and all, amidst a lot of death I've witnessed this season) but the energy of the place was still vital. A scene that a short time ago would have broken my heart, I was looking upon from a very different perspective. In the recent shamanic workshop in Santa Fe we really learned how in order to heal someone you can't see them as sick. You can acknowledge the challenges, but you always see the person, or in this case the land, as whole.
As I circled around the far end of the pond, feeling more energized and whole myself from the healing vibes of the earth, I silently addressed 'The Spirit of the Land' asking what I could do to help it heal. "You're doing it," came the gentle reply with a hint of a smile, and though I hadn't seen a single feather so far, as soon as the voice spoke in my mind, I spotted a single downy feather at my feet.
"But, but, but..." I started to protest, expecting some elaborate ceremony involving drums and moonlight and dancing of some sort, "Are you sure you're not just my own mind trying to make my feel important?" "Very sure," came the distinct voice, this time spoken with almost a laugh, "As you walk in wholeness and heal yourself, you heal the land you stand upon. It is that simple. Besides that, we have been less ravaged than the land around us and are for the most part still intact."
I looked around at the warehouses encroaching on this little oasis of wildlife, and realized what bit of destruction here was but a mere 'trim off the top' compared to the 'development' of the land surrounding it.
I had just about completed my circle around the pond, and I wondered at how curious it was -- healing the Earth which I was receiving healing from. Curious indeed. And suddenly I realized there was one more thing I could do to seal our mutual healing. A song had, unbidden, lept to my mind and onto my lips as I found myself singing out loud over the rippling waters.
EE EE
HEE LA HEE
YO EE EE
HEE LA HEE
YO
What the words, if that's what you can call them, mean or where the fully formed tune came from I do not know, but the resulting healing was mutual, I assure you.
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