Aho

If there is any genuine happy or contented in my living these days, it mostly comes from simple things. Snuggling with kitties as I sit in the recliner my sis gave me, sun streaming through the windows,my latest piece of Doomer P*rn in my lap, a mug of hot kukicha tea balanced on the window sill. Or making treks to the library to pick up my latest haul, stopping off at the bank to deposit a stack of checks from the work I'm doing, scooting by the video store to chat up the employees (especially the one who always wears the sparkly glittery hot blue eyeshadow or the hottie with the dreds) a bit about their favorite movies this week. Or cooking/assembling my latest meal, a vegan salad full of avocado and pepita seeds and crunchy peppers and fresh local hydroponic lettuce and my orgasmic homemade salad dressing.

But it's also the work I'm doing.

Do you know what it's like to have your work challenge you to use the best of you? And then have it take it? Do you know what it means to have the very best of you be demanded, or you pay the price of visceral regret on the other side if you hold back, no matter what the reason?

The shamanic work that I'm doing brings me so much angst and joy and surrender and majesty and awe and giggles and connection that I wish I were doing it more hours a week than what is currently asked for by folks. Even though I get that I am gearing up each week, taking on a bit more, gently, so that I don't blow a fuse.

I teach two classes each week. One, an introductory one on shamanic journeying, four classes of two hours each taught over a four week period. The second, an "advanced class", where, in truth, I attempt to initiate those brave/stoopid/on fire/bullheaded/brilliant/crazy/driven/gorgeous enough to want the whole enchilada and whom I am attempting to teach it one bean at a time.

They are a rowdy bunch. They all start out pretty sweet, but by "advanced" they start kicking up the dust, asserting their wills and fears and hopes and realities. They blow my mind, and my heart as well.

I am still pretty splayed. From what has happened to me the past four years. From what continues to unfold for me. But they seem to get what I am offering underneath the schputz, the insanity, the MeMyselfI. And they are an hilarious bunch as well, and trust me, as well as keep finding ways to poke fun and laugh and have it all be a party. They scare the shit out of me, and I am so incredibly grateful and it is a never-ending endeavor to keep finding ways to thank them in what I can return in the way of teaching and loving and celebrating them . . .

And I show them that psychic ability is simply a skill. That healing energywork is simply a current that you tap into. And they fly. They dive into the energy and they soar.

And then their are the private sessions, which are sometimes the folks who come to class, but most often just folks who come for some sort of healing. They blow my mind on a different level. They offer their hearts and lives to me to peruse, to journey through and look for treasure. They tell me of the most horrific moments in their lives, the ones that show them at their lowest, what the world judges them the most harshly for. And yet, the combining of their heart and surrender, and my heart and surrender, we dive in and bring back magic. On the most practical level, we find a way to reinterpret their story. On the shamanic level, we transmute their past trauma into fuel for present expansion and depth. On an explanatory level, they jettison who they used to be to make room for who they are becoming, they open their hearts so that they can embrace All Of Themselves, the shit and shinola, the horrific and celebratory. It all feels good for them, and for me.

On one hand, I open to the nightmare that is our world. On the other, to the divine lusciousness that is the living inside. And in my most expansive, true moments I smile at the knowing that it is all Yes, every single bit of it.

And I am so grateful for the ride. Thank you Life, for such an amazing, eye-opening ride. May I continue to let your truth feed me, and keep finding ways to pass it on with love and humor and courage and truth . . .

Aho . . .