THE DARK SHAMAN
I never expected to practice dark healing. I thought it was dabbling in some kind of black magic. That is not true. It is simply part of being human. Lakota Holy Man, Chief Frank Fools Crow, says:
“The greatest and the only lasting privilege we have is that in spite
of some of the things we think, say and do, the Powers and their
Helpers are still willing to work through us. What could be greater
than to be Wakan-Tanka's mind, eyes, ears, nose, mouth, arms,
hands, legs and feet here on earth?”
I took a short hike today up on the mountain to an area labeled The Golan Heights on many maps for this area. I'm familiar with most of the extensive miles and miles of trails here, but this one was one I'd never seen before. It branches off, unspectacularly, from one of the main trails and heads up on a big open ridge. At the top there was a wide expanse of ground with deep dropoffs on either side. We hiked in the rain, an hour in and an hour out, and probably spent another hour or so up there. There are huge rocks with the most incredibly green lichen I've ever seen; it almost glows it's so damned green. The energy changes drastically, too once you're up there; my soul just opens up and sings the song of the mountain. I've had this same feeling on hikes before, and sometimes in airplanes; when I rented the cabin a few weeks ago with CD and C-Bear, I was astonished to feel this feeling leave me as I descended the mere few hundred feet of the mountain in the car. I take it to mean that that area is a thin place, a place where spiritual energies are more accessible, and the general background energy is just lighter. The whole mountain seems to be a thin place, but there are several places like this on it which are extraordinary in that way.
Or I could be making that all up in my head.
But, whatever. It has a great invitement to it, a sacredness, an ideal place for a dance, a party, a wedding. A great place for holy ceremony, since it's clearly already hallowed ground. The trail ends up on that particular part because there's no way to go beyond the rocky dropoffs, so people don't usually hike through. Well, that, and there's goat shit everywhere from the herd of mountain goats that live up there. I mean, like a solid carpet of goat shit so thick you can't see the ground for paces and paces all around.
But shit is holy, too: God is, indeed, everywhere, in the details.
I'm so grateful to my friend, CD who took me there and who wants to spend lots more time up there with chosen special friends. It began raining earlier today and we almost called off our hike, but said what the hell. How often do we get the pleasant chance to hike in the rain and come back to warm houses and dry clothes? So we had the mountain all to ourselves and had a lovely two hour conversation and pleasant, if damp, hike, sharing it with the forest, the stone people, and the spirit of water falling from the sky.
And were blessed by holy mist once we got to our destination. A very positive Celtic omen, the mist settled in around us when we reached the Heights and departed as we were leaving it, as if to say, "Yes. This is holy and I'm here to make certain you know it."Now, home and dry, I have a whole delightfully drizzly afternoon to myself on my one holy day of the week to do as I wish. I've cooked myself a healthy lunch, had a glass of red wine, and am reading shamanic texts and fantasy short stories. I'll journey later today, a series of journeys I've been wanting to do and have been preparing for such a day. Then I'll most likely clean house, deliver a small gift to CD and then watch a movie and drink more wine.
I can't think of a better way to keep the Sabbath and to rest and heal myself before I set off for another week of healing others.
Later: missed a call from the young man I spent a delightful evening with last weekend ... he wanted to spend more time tonight but I didn't see it on the phone until late. Darn. That would have been the better way to have kept the rest of this Sabbath :-)
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