The Real Thing

Everybody's a shaman. Everyone senses, at some level, the flows of energy in which we live and move around every day. Everyone responds in his or her unique way to those flows which is why at the supermarket when you suddenly get an urge to go stand in line, everyone else in the store does the same thing. Or you're out walking around. You think, "I'm going for coffee." There's no line at the espresso bar but 2 seconds after you order, 20 people have lined up behind you. They had the same thought, responded to the same shift in the energetic flows. Check it out. You know what I'm saying is true. That's how astrology works. The huge beings who share our solar system move forwards and backwards, wax and wane. We dance in shamanic alignment with them, going retrograde occasionally, and such.

Dancing in shamanic alignment with the flows of energy within and without is the birthright of every human being. We do it whether or not we're in a mood to admit it, which makes every one of us a shaman.

There are different stripes of shaman, though. If you google "shaman definition" you'll see a bunch of different ideas. There are those of us who dance, and then there are those of us who mediate between the world of spirit and the world of humans. I fall into that second category. Every healer is also a mediator, every healer tries to wedge themselves between the cause of suffering and the person suffering. I'm speaking energetically of course.

Anyway I'm thinking about it because I have had the craziest shamanic week! Good lord. Here's a true story from this week. I went to see the Sufi acupuncturist on one of his last days in the office space he has occupied for six years. On the way into the building I noticed something smelled good but I didn't give it much thought. When I walked in the office, the first thing I noticed is that everything was off the walls and out of the space except for the bare necessities - a couple of chairs in the reception area and a folding table, laptop, a phone. That was it. The Sufi acupuncturist was standing in reception when I breezed in. He turned to me and said, "Oh! You're wearing (some Chinese word)." I was confused. He said, "It's the scent in Chinese medicine that cleanses energy." I said, "I'm not wearing any scent." He took a step closer and sniffed me, nodded, then said, "But you can smell it, right?" I could! It was that good smell from the sidewalk. I said, "I noticed it smelled nice outside." He then went to the door to his office, leaned out into the hallway and smelled, shook his head slowly. I said, "It smelled nice outside but not in the building."

When he explained that the scent is used for cleansing, I remarked that it was the perfect energy for him in his office on one of his last days there. And then we commenced with my session.

Stuff like this happens to me all the time, but sometimes it still astonishes me. A smell hitches a ride with me into the acupuncturist's office? How can that be? Where did the smell come from? How did it recognize me? How did it wrap itself around me? I will never know.

I could go on and on about my shamanic week, but you get the picture. Emboldened by recent experiences, I've been dancing around with the allegedly powerful rainstick, sadly to no effect. It is hot and dry in DC; it's supposed to reach 90 F. today. Yes indeed I am a shaman and yes of course I will do my part to bring rain, but it isn't up to me, is it?

May your day be magical in wonderful ways. Shalom.