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Dis stole my May and I'm dismayed.

4/21/2017

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Greetings, dear star-songs poured into a pulsing human heart which spends a lifetime remembering the words and melody,
 
As I finish up another week of training with my teachers in New Mexico, I'm all a-whirl with amazement. The shamanic path is, in some ways, very simple in its goals and practices, and for us, at this time, there is core message that shamanism delivers to us: the world is far more alive than we've been taught, and far more interactive with us than we've been led to believe. We are far more able to create joy than we are told- largely because or entire culture - the economy, entertainment and mainstream religion - runs on the power of dismay. 
 
That word, Dismay, is applicable for us right now as we head toward the month of May, and toward one of the central holidays in the Celtic Shamanic tradition: Beltane, celebrated May 1. This is the beginning of summer, the direction on the medicine wheel of Joy, revelry, dancing and sensuality among other powers. 
 
The prefix "dis"(dismay, disappointment, disease...) comes from the Greek/Roman god of death and the the underworld: Dis. To be dismayed is to have your "May Power" (the power of Joy) taken to the underworld and held by the God Dis. Now, be careful, because we live in a culture full of the martyrdom and victimization, so when our May/Joy power is stolen by Dis and taken to the underworld, we can we can move quickly to feeling victimized: "This sucks, man, Dis took my Joy to the underworld." (There's a Facebook status for you.) 

But sometimes Dis comes to steal from us because it's time to refine that power, or to break open the small container that it is held in, to help us create the larger container that can hold more of that same power. In the Celtic Tradition, the Faeries steal from us possibly just to annoy us becasue they find it fun, but more often to open our attention- to remind us to get back to paying attention to the right things.  

So how do we rescue our Joy from Dis? One way is prayer. Yep, prayer. Take a look at this article on brain neuro-circuitry, how we rewire our thought patterns, deleting the bad and opening the good. Prayer is the practice for this, I'm telling you. Real prayer at least. 

Wahoo, dear travelers! 

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Easter

4/16/2017

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​Jesus, one time, many years ago, when I was in a terrible place, you came to me. You took my hand and led me down a well. Down, down, we went, into the dark earth. At the bottom of the well you dipped a ladle into a pool of water so blue that I wondered if it was water or light. You told me to sip and when I did my terror vanished, my regret vanished, my heart warmed as golden as the summer dawn. I knew that every creature that walked, crawled, writhed, swam or flew was my sister and brother. I knew that the stars have songs to teach us. I knew that the stones are my ancestors. I knew that our earth mother continues to love us even in our ignorant arrogance. I knew that true wealth begins by giving up grasping for wealth, and I knew that sin is all about raising myself above others, and that love is not that which makes me feel comfortable, but a fire that burns away the crust on me that is committed to blame. I learned that God is a verb and love dies when it is merely spoken about and not put into action. Jesus, on this day when so many of my human sisters and brothers dress up for you, I plead with you to take us all to the well for a draught of that blue water. Teach us that salvation is for right now, not after death: redemption is about shattering my arrogance, not about memorizing holy words. Prosperity is found in compassion not in possessions. Jesus, the trees are budding, the birds are flitting and flirting, the earth is singing its warming song, calling for the new shape it wants to become. The power you spoke of, the power you carried in you and which flowed from you, is spread out everywhere upon this beautiful Mother Earth. Open our eyes so that we may see it. Open our ears so that we may hear it. Open our skin so that we may dress ourselves in a new robe. Help us value the land as much as we value our status. Roll back the stone of arrogance and the stone of despair and the stone of fear that keeps us in the dark tomb of smallness. Hold out your hand and lead us, reborn, into the bright garden.

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How's Your Wyrd?

4/4/2017

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John Muir (my 19th century Scottish clansman and naturalist and founder of the Sierra Club) said: “When we try to pick out anything by itself we find that it is bound fast by a thousand invisible cords that cannot be broken, to everything in the universe."
 
We are, slowly, slowly, opening (or re-opening the closed) understanding of the great mistake we made: thinking that anything is separate from any other thing – culminating in believing that we are separate from the Creator. This mistake underlies mainstream theology, economics and everything else in our culture, and wherever you look in our world and see human-enacted misery, you can see the underlying cause: believing that anything is separate from each other. This is the core difference between the indigenous world view, which sees the thousand invisible cords, and the western mind, which revels in the fantasy of individualism, culminating in many absurd notions and ways of being.

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In the Nordic shamanic tradition, the word for this interweaving, interdependent connection of everything to everything is wyrd. Our word weird comes from this source – weird, meaning mysterious, uncanny, otherworldly. Wyrd refers to the interplay between what is seen and unseen, between the spirits and one’s life. Wyrd is sometimes referred to as the web, or as the weave. These images affirm what Muir said: that no act, no person, no life exists outside of its connection with other things. In the Celtic shamanic tradition, the weaving, flowing, intersecting "Celtic knot" affirms this web of interdependence.

​So instead of greeting someone by asking "how are you?" we might better greet them by asking "How's your Wyrd?" or "How's your interdependence with all life, seen and seen, going?" A simple version of this, and, a highly recommended way to greet one another: "What has Spirit taught you today?"

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About trees, John Muir also said that you cannot define a tree by its leaves and trunk and bark and size. This of course is exactly how western taxonomy defines trees and everything else – by its separate parts. Muir said that a tree must be defined by what lives in it, off it and on it. A tree is defined by what it feeds, and what it feeds upon. A tree is literally sunshine and summer rain and iron in soil. A tree is the bugs that live under the bark and the bird that comes to peck at the bark for the bugs. A tree is the squirrel nest in the branches. A tree is the leaf-song played by the summer's wind.
 
We seem to spend a lot of time asking ourselves "Who am I?" But instead of that question, perhaps we should be asking, "Who do I feed, who do I eat, who lives in me and off of me; who do I shelter and sing to, and bless with my presence?" That is who I am. Try it.  
 
​I leave with you with one of my favorite poems by the 13th century saint, mystic and poet Mawlānā Jalāl-ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī, better known to modern Americans simply as Rumi. In it he puts an elegant voice to the drummer perspective:

Those who don't feel this Love
pulling them like a river,
those who don't drink dawn
like a cup of springwater
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don't want to change,
 
let them sleep.
 
This Love is beyond the study of theology,
that old trickery and hypocrisy.
If you want to improve your mind that way,
 
sleep on.
 
I've given up on my brain.
I've torn the cloth to shreds
and thrown it away.
 
If you're not completely naked,
wrap your beautiful robe of words
around you,
 
and sleep.
 
--Translated by Coleman Barks, Like This  (Maypop, 1990).
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    Jaime Meyer is a writer and Shamanic Worker living in Minneapolis. 

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