Receiving

As many of you know, I have been awaiting elbow and wrist surgery since the fall. I had the operation two weeks ago, and met with my surgeon today for my post-op appointment. He was amazed at how well I am healing--how little bruising there is, how little swelling, how well my surgical wounds have closed.

While I didn't give him a lecture on shamanism (he was already running 45 minutes late), I was not surprised. This isn't the first time I have had a medical professional amazed at my recovery after an injury or accident. Each time, this one included, I asked for help. As you can imagine, I know a lot of people who do shamanic healing work. My teacher said that circles, once formed, continue in non-ordinary reality long after the participants have disbanded. I have certainly found that to be true when I ask for help. I don't know exactly how many people worked with their spirits on my behalf, because it doesn't matter, and I didn't take attendance. I do know specific people who responded to my request and said they would work for me. They did an amazing job.

There is something magical about asking for help. Think of all the variables involved: autonomy, vulnerability, relationship, trust, hope, love, relationship (yes, twice, because we are in a relationship crisis in our culture right now). Receiving, without having to do anything other than trust the support, is a beautiful thing.

Think for a moment what it takes for you to ask for help, and what it takes for you to receive. Is it hard? Is it fraught? Is it easy? Do you trust it? Asking and receiving is a skill set in itself, one about which I have received many teachings through this work. And here is another one--a doctor in disbelief, and spirits around me gently laughing.

Trust

Isn't it funny how the teachings we receive seem to circle back around? Mine are currently circling back around to trust. Each time I am led to this topic, I spiral a little deeper into it.

Teachings about trust began coming back in this spring, as the flowers started to bloom. It occurred to me that we have tremendous trust in the seasons changing. I can look at a field covered with snow and know that in a few months, it will be covered with flowers. I can look at trees bursting with green leaves and know that those leaves will change color and fall, and the branches will be bare. I know that when the branches are bare, then I can see the full moon through my bedroom window. I know all of these things from experience, yes, but they still require trust.

It makes me consider where else I place my trust. I know that there is spiritual support at my back. I know that life teaches me what I need to be taught. I know that I can trust. Are any of these things certain? I don't think so. Still, I trust in them. There is a tremendous amount of trust required in this work. Sometimes it wavers--for all of us, we are human. It takes work to allow trust to deepen. And trust is a choice, one we have to make to walk this particular road.

I talk, as my teachers did, about how shamanism is not about belief but about knowing. Trust is knowing. I know what I know from my own experience. I had to have some trust in order to gain that experience, yes, but I find that the trust deepens enough that it becomes a new thing, takes on a new meaning. And so my own spirits are circling back around to trust, teaching me new things about it. As sure as the seasons cycle, so do the teachings.

Check in with yourself--how deep is your trust? Don't judge it, but notice it. Where is your trust placed? Where is it lacking? Where would you like it to deepen? Just notice. Life has a way of taking us where we need to go.

On the horizon

Do you ever get the feeling that something is on the horizon? Sometimes it is a message from our spirits, sometimes it is an intuition. Either way, there is a sense that something new is coming. Sometimes it comes as restlessness or anticipation. Sometimes it is a knowing that now is a time to prepare for what comes next.

This picture was taken on Skyline Drive, a road which winds along the spine of the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia. I have included pictures from the caverns underneath the mountains in my emails before, but not from the top of the ridge. Long before I start packing for the 3 Year Program (usually at the last minute), I can feel the pull of the mountains, and of the power. My senses begin to perk up: something is on the horizon.

I have found that there is a sharpening of the senses that comes with this work. I order to notice it, we have to slow down and pay attention to ourselves. We can't feel which way the wind is blowing when we are always rushing ourselves. This week, I am feeling the pull of the mountains. The wind is bringing in power.

Many of you have heard me say that the most important part of healing work is the personal work we do on our own, so that when we show up to work for someone else, our relationship with power is already strong. I am feeling called to spend more time with that relationship now. Waxing and waning in our practice is natural. We need to pay enough attention to know when it's time to give more attention to our relationship with power.

How do you notice when the work is calling you to something new?