Tuesday, October 30, 2012
These pics are from a couple of weeks ago. I'll get out between clients today to survey the scene on Capitol Hill. There will be pictures.
I am a shaman. It is not a glamorous calling. It's interesting but I would not exactly call it fun. For instance yesterday when I could have been getting drunk and playing cards with the neighbors as we sat out the hurricane/nor-easter, I was here at the chateau, reaching out, trying to sense the soul of the storm, to understand, and to anchor in some way at least a tiny bit of the energy for the benefit of the living beings in its path.
Does that sound crazy? Well, it very well may be, but this is what shamans have always done, this is how we behave in the midst of huge storms. We've been doing this work for 100,000 years at least, probably longer. There is precedent for the madness.
I was in touch all day with shamanic colleagues from all over the world. We gathered in groups on Facebook - one group consisted of old cronies from my witch camp years, people who live in British Columbia and the Pacific Northwest. Another group was centered on this coast, consisting of people with whom I've worked on the Civil War battlefields and at locations in the District. I talked to people on the continent of Africa, in Australia and Europe as well. The only people who did not respond to my requests for contact were my old cronies in San Francisco. They were celebrating the World Series there which is their right - I guess. San Francisco might as well be another planet sometimes. Good lord.
Would it be interesting to hear what we sensed? Our impressions are poetic, much like what you hear from culinary aficionados when they describe wine - you know, they talk about earthy flavors, tannins, a long finish, etc. If you are interested, I will describe what we felt. But it might only be interesting to we shamans.
One important thing I learned from one of my cohorts (the powerful priestess who brought me "into the blood" of Mongolian shamanism), is that trying to perceive the entire storm was ridiculous. No wonder I had a headache. She said she found a current embedded in the storm, one that she needed, and rode it "for awhile." I was trying to see the whole thing all at once. I am so ambitious! No wonder I was thinking about LSD.
A spirit guide showed me how to locate the "Pole Star" in the vast galaxy of wind and rain, a relatively fixed central place in the storm (not the center, by the way) from where I could check out the interactions within the storm, the relationships among the different energies, but without getting dizzy.
Of course it was still overwhelming. I'll be thinking about it for a long time.
It occurred to me last night that I've been trying to do the same thing with WWII; perceive the whole entity of that war, which is absolutely impossible. I must find something particular to study. What I choose will become the Pole Star of that terrible war, a place to anchor, from where I can learn more about what that dark storm was about.
Not today, though. Today I'll be sending a steady stream of Reiki up the coast to New Jersey and especially New York City. The devastation is horrible, truly horrible. New Yorkers are tough but they will need all available healing energy, money and help to get through this.
Also, I'll be working today. The city is closed down, including public transportation, but my clients today live in the village and can walk over for their massages. It will be good to put my hands on living beings.
I am grateful for my calling as healer and shaman, even though it is so weird. I feel lucky to have figured out a way to be myself. I am a shaman.