Drinking the Kool-Aid

Well, folks, it occurs to me that I’m not sure what I will write about today. I just did a morning meditation – a shamanic journey, in fact – and I’m a little cock-eyed and raw at the moment.

I usually choose not to do the journeys by myself, partly because they’re really powerful, and sometimes I just want the assurance of someone more experienced in case I come out with questions or concerns. And partly, I don’t like to do them on my own because they are so powerful, and sometimes I get so thrown by them, like today. It’s hard to put the pieces of normalcy and reality back together – it’s like waking up from a very deep sleep, it takes a while to orient yourself to where you are, and mainly, who you are again.

It occurs to me that this is what I meant when I talked about being in school as giving me the time to get centered in myself and my life. Not rushing to a job at 8:30am, not being distracted by the water cooler, or exhaustion, gives me the space to do this work.

Granted, people who work 9-5 can also find time for spiritual enhancement ;)

I said yesterday that I’ve been doing work around “soul retrieval,” and I’ve heard and consider this practice as a way to re-own and integrate those parts of myself which I have dismissed or which have been sliced away through trauma. Well, this retrieval seems to be happening more often lately. It happened on the New Year’s retreat two weeks ago, and it happened this morning, both in shamanic journey meditation. (I bought the CD of the shamanic drumming about 2 years ago, and so I listen to it on my iPod when I do it on my own - otherwise, "in real life," someone actually drums.)

It’s not for everyone. Well, that’s not true. More accurate is that not everyone is into it, interested in it, really cares, or believes in it. But, that’s neither here nor there. When I began this practice about 4 years ago, I wasn’t so sure it would “work” for me either, but, consider me a believer. I’m no expert, and won’t try to explain it here, but you can look it up. Also, my teacher’s teacher runs a school that does this work called the Sacred Stream in Berkeley (laugh, scoff, roll eyes, or vomit if you must). I’m not here to convert anyone, it’s just a tool that has been offered to me, and which I’ve picked up, not “with abandon,” but with tentative, frightened, continuous longing.

I was speaking with a woman on the phone this morning before the meditation, and she was telling me a bit about one of her spiritual practices. And honestly, I think it’s marvelous that there are so many. A wrench for every nut, as they say. Or, all rivers lead to the ocean.

I actually emailed Sacred Stream the other day to ask if they had any sort of scholarship or volunteer program that I could do, so that I could participate in their upcoming Intro to Shamanic Journey 2-day course. I haven’t heard yet, but several women on the retreat with me suggested this woman.

I asked why. I mean, I get a lot of juice from my teacher/friend, why see/try someone else. I was told that it’s like the difference between two artists, it’s just another view, instead of getting it all from one (and putting the one I have on a bit of a pedestal, I admit). She also said that it’s just neat to be in this woman’s presence. That she’s got the juice, and it’s infectious. Spiritually Infectious Juice. Sounds like something you pick up in India and ties you to the toilet for 10 days.

But, for now, I’m going to keep juicing this fruit, and patch my soul back together one lost bit at a time – because maybe all the king’s horses and men couldn’t do it, but we’ve got a bit more power than that on our side.