Monday, January 5, 2015

Shaman LIfe - Essay



SHAMAN LIFE - ESSAY

What are you here to do?

A revered teacher of mine, Jeb Barton, has told me many times that “there is nothing to do, nothing to be” and that life is “serious play”, meaning to me that in our essence, our work is to simply be present in this place and plane.

But still, without getting too far into our heads about it, it seems there are methods and manners of Being that are of more intrinsic value than others here; a career thief vs. healer, for example. Each and any of these require an insertion of our souls into this level of existence wherein we assume one or many egoic “outfits”. Doing so, our aim is to use the ego to its fullest rather than being overtaken by it. So to what source do we go when determining the path of greatest worth for our limited time at this point in our soul’s journey?

Actually, the question itself can be problematic.

The egoic mind is not equipped to determine path from its own standpoint. Ego will always seek to assert itself, making itself the primary obligation. Rather, the ability to experience ourselves – including ego -  from a place of detached awareness is key. In my experience, meditation is a critical component of my ability (or inability, depending) to see my Higher Self above and in spite of my ego, emotions and drama of the moment. I’m not speaking only of my meditation practice per se, but the practice of returning to the breath throughout the day, which is the real practice. Without that ability, there is just too much cognitive dissonance manifesting as indecision, depression and being interested in “all things at once” for me.   

Also regarding the question above, assuming a type of separation between ourselves and Creator (at least in this place and plane), even in stillness we may not “hear” the Voice as it speaks to us, presumably to assist us from outside ourselves in our walk towards a more meaningful life. Of course the value of such a Voice would be self-evident, and ultimately we would hear it as a part of ourSelves.    

I attached this picture of a shaman (artist respected, but unknown) because to me, the shaman is the representation of one who is necessarily present, making use of gifts for the physical, emotional and spiritual healing of themselves and others, and that have dedicated themselves to hearing the language of the great oracle, Mother Earth. The question I have wrestled with is this: “Must we wear animal skins and live in a tipi to walk a life of connection and full use?” Not necessarily. While I think most people feel more distracted from Soul than enlivened and connected by interaction with western culture, most of us have made commitments that we feel to honor (rent, family, possibly the work we do in the world). The point is that we start where we are and work on the moment-to-moment issues that arise first and foremost. That is, with each breath. As we do that, we are in more of a position to feel where our soul interests lie because the Voice has less dissonance to cut through. As we act on them, continuing in the moment, we unerringly find that our soul leads us, speaking to us in a language we understand, albeit in a volume of vocabulary that starts far smaller than the collective vocabulary spoken by Creator.  That aside, and maybe most importantly, the words heal us, coming as they do through (or from) the Earth Mother Herself. Continuing on our paths with Her words resonating in our hearts we are imbued with a sense of deep connection to the Great Father through Her. The result is a sense of our place in the great order of things in whatever physical plane we are occupying in the moment.

At the western New Year may we determine not to make long lists of “things to do”. Rather, may we consider making one resolution; to continue in the breath so we can hear the language being spoken without words, without body, directly to our searching, curious and happy souls.              

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Winter Sentinel

Winter Sentinel

winter still
night calling
snow falling
billowing, pillowing
clouds on ground
crowned white
star bright
owl glides 

as silent eyes
o'er sleeping bear
through 

crackling air
seeing all 

he reports 
to
heaven's quartz
those 

floating stones
that 

seem alone
and yet -


like him

alive they cry
while
asleep they lie
for winter's not withholding
it is depth emboldening
all creatures beneath their twinkling gaze
and when the wheel returns to spring
the bear and owl blood quickening
they signal from earth
awakened rebirth
refreshed and reborn
they sing

--Eric Marley