So you want to be a shaman…
So you want to be a witch
a bruja
a medicine woman
a wise woman
a healer . . . . .
Sit down outdoors with your spine straight and your shoulders back.
Open your chest and clear your throat.
Speak from the simple silent soul place deep in your belly.
Speak to the earth
to the sky
to the wild ones and
to the world.
Speak to the ancestors and say :
Make me a witch
a bruja
a medicine woman
a wise woman
a healer . . . . .
Pull out one hair from your head,
one small symbolic bit of self
lay it on the ground and say Good Bye.
Don’t look back.
Ride the wildest roller coasters
sled down hills that are a little to steep
a little to fast
a little to icy.
Learn to breath when you’re frightened,
sing when you’re tired,
laugh through tears and
comfort a loved one when there are no answers.
Learn to laugh loud and change gears on a steep hill without rolling back.
Get a good car and sensible shoes.
Grow your hair long, brush it often and
bathe in honey, flower petals and sweet oil.
These are essential skills because
Spirit will strip you of pride
so that you may know power.
Spirit will strip you of pity
so that you may reach into any hole,
no matter how deep,
and help another to begin climbing.
Spirit will lead you,
eyes open and hair flying
head long into the stone wall
of your own foolishness and
knock loose the broken shards
of your old self
so that they rattle around in your skull
go liquid and settle in the base of your brain
to drip down through your body
flow out your feet
and fertilize flowers on the footpath.
Spirit will drop you into the lap of trouble
with only one tool in your pocket
And your wisdom will be judged by how long you search
everywhere but there
for just the right cure.
Spirit will furnish you with a sticky page photo album
complete with perfect pictures of every scabby knee,
every broken heart,
every callous word,
every wasted moment,
and it will fly through the pages and flash by your face
like an old silent movie
whenever you are about to screw up through arrogance.
Bind it in your favorite color.
Place it with your Holy Books.
Learn to think while you are falling
and believe in Magick strong enough
to turn the rock surface
hurtling toward you to cool water.
Close your eyes,
point your toes,
raise your arms,
straighten your spine,
hit the water clean as an arrow shot
and remember that sometimes the only difference
between falling and flying is the way you land.
So, you want to be a witch
a bruja
a medicine woman
a wise woman
a healer . . . . .
Learn to recognize the enemy,
sleep sitting up,
face everything,
walk away from anything,
pee in the woods,
efficiently pack a suitcase and
sing a Sacred Self song
Learn to be helpless and helpful
fulfilled and a walking void
a midwife and
a funeral director
and then,
you may begin . . . . .
~ Mary Standing Otter
“Outside of its gates of rot,
is the door to your ancestral heart
In your inner ear, deep within,
Hear the whispers of ancestral souls, the voices of people of old
They are whispering to those who chose not to hear
Whispering to those who choose to distance themselves
from the source of the whisper
deep within their own inner ear
Still the murmuring goes on,
with the will to survive,
the will to survive. There it is!
There it is- Did you hear?
~From the “perfection’ of the Western concept of Christianity cannot separate me. Nothing can separate me from the sacred voices of the first garden of my ancestors. “For I have spent my life gazing at it’s will to survive”
From his book The Cry of the Huna by Moke Kupihea
simply beautiful medicine
Today was an extra special treat. A rare Sunday off, spent with a loved one, and at Orenda in Sacred Circle with a group of people I was so honored to have welcome me. In the busy rush of our everyday lives it so easy to forget the importance of community, celebration and sacred ceremony. However big or small we are creatures of ritual, something that seems almost forgotten in this day and age.And while I spend my days creating sacred space for each one of my clients, I truly forgot how much I adored, how much I needed to be bathed in this most special energy. A group of people with a simple goal: Offering love, accepting love, unconditionally and without judgment through music. As Eric Marczak explained that the essence of the first Native American Flutes were really about the courting of the female spirit and that he believes there are more flute circles today than ever before, the impact was not lost on me. In a time where our Mother Earth in all her feminine splendor is so unappreciated, so unsupported, and literally being destroyed by the very hands she breaths life into, now more than ever we need flutes. We need the music that can speak to the sweet soul of the earth, a language that can heal and bring forth the great female spirit upon which we live. Speaking of Female Spirits; As the group of talented passionate flutists played their music both one by one and together Suzanne Rancourt spoke gently yet powerfully. Not only did she echo my thoughts above about our mother earth but they took hold somewhere deeper within as she shared her insights. Safe, and accepted into this circle tears flowed slowly quietly as I shook a rain stick and my heart chakra burst open.Never could I have guessed how much healing I could have received from this circle. I walked away feeling lighter, happier, ready. Perhaps the music itself is coaxing my own spirit up and active again, or perhaps it was a day spent with these open and accepting people in circle, maybe a little of both has made me longing for more. The Sweetness, the essence of the flute-the essence of the spirit was mentioned often by Eric, who makes the flutes he plays, and this above all else stuck with me. For what point is there to life, if we do not take the time to extract and honor the Sweetness.
My Spiritual practice is a journey. My healing practice is a reflection of the divine in all things.
Since I was a little girl I have found myself searching, looking, dreaming pulling “something” towards me. As a child and now even as an adult I am often seen as the girl lost in her own world, with a vivid imagination dancing to the beat of my her own drum. I’ve had many wise women tell me that I have one foot here in this world and my other in another, or that I often long for someplace else. I think this “someplace else” is my spirituality. My connection to the divine, I feel it. I’ve always felt it, but as a child I didn’t understand it. I didn’t know the language, the symbols and like most things in my life, the more I understand-the less I understand. The more I know- The less I know. I don’t think spirituality is a place, or a thing. I think it is a journey, a path, a connection of my bare feet upon the earth. The sacredness of being right here in this very moment living fully, in the moment, authentically and in my truth. Nourishment on every level!
All healing is self healing! Like many others, I have turned to the Healing Arts for my career as a way to earn a living. The connections between my spiritual tradition and my healing practice are deep and varied. I am a healer because I heal myself, by giving I receive! By giving I facilitate sacred space in order for another person to be safe enough and nourished enough to begin the healing changes needed within their own body. I hold witness and offer nourishing energy and bodywork. In order to create this healing sacred space I need to be fully in the moment. There is no faking it, I need to be authentic and in my truth.
The importance of the journey, the connection to the divine and that which is sacred within myself is what my spirituality and my healing practice is centered upon.
I recently spent some time falling in love,,,,again… with all of my herbs as I transferred them from their plastic containers to this amazing Ball Jars from the 1930’s! Are they not gorgeous?
They are also so much easier to use.
Whispering Violets 