The chore list has been overwhelmed with broken bits of this and that, computer hackers, banking snafu's, allergic reactions, multiple doctor visits, one late night ER adventure and a year anniversary of a visit with a Shaman. Today in the midst of brushing teeth I looked in the mirror and noticed my shirt was on inside out. This mishap has occurred roughly 10 times the last two weeks. Chaos emblematic in outerwear.
"What the hell?"
This was raged out between the gushy foam of toothpaste and in a room by myself.
Change is an interesting phenomena. The protagonist for most stories, little understood and is a topic for which I am completely enamored. That is, if enamored means enthralled, bamboozled, flabbergasted, befuddled and standing with a look of gob-smacked horror with drool traveling unnoticed down my chin. The rampaging Sun has thrown bits of matter through space and lowly computer software is unable to withstand the storm. While Big Mr. Glow was readying for the task of a mayhem shower, the steam of fortitude built up to a mountain of power. In other words for the last 21 days, my life has been far, far, far screwier than usual.
Having dismissed random as an illusion a few years ago, there is no other place to begin than with a statement starting off the awareness travels 13 years ago.
"Pay attention there is something to learn."
"Shit."
One of my finer qualities is that I am consistent. A personality trait with less than stellar results is laziness, which lurks behind most masterful events of change in this experience. A few years ago I embarked upon a study of Shamanic Healing. Funny thing about opening doors, they tend to let in more than the expected. The knowledge has been astounding and life affirming, providing healing for old pain, as well as deeper understanding of my beliefs. Gratitude aside, there has been a little trinket recently discovered. After the presents, came a question.
"So, what are you going to do with this information?"
As a practicing manual therapist, the obvious answer would be to offer Shamanic Healing.
Have you seen what that looks like?
No way.
You work in middle class America, not in Woo-Doo Town.
You'll be strung up by your feet and worried villagers will throw tomatoes.
Thanking All That IS for the transformation, ambivalence set in and I lived with the trinket buried in back of the closet. This is what usually happens. Lose ten pounds after working my butt off, become overjoyed and eat Oreos while basking momentarily in pants that don't pinch. Perception altering healing arrives, which required concentrated meditation practices, become overjoyed and eat Oreos while basking momentarily in the wide open spaces of life in sync.
Pebble sized blips of difficulty arrived, just as the pants slowly hugged in for the python squeeze and then the Sun Spot Shower of Snafu pitter pattered on my rooftop relentlessly.
"There is no un-learning what has been learned."
"Shit."
We are now entering my interpretation of the discipline phase of adulthood. The age where not going to the gym for a week has repercussions far beyond a pound or two and using a credit card can outreach possible years of work expectancy. Those damn chickens have come home to roost. I can continue to watch the view of my ass bloom over my shoulder or step up the workouts. There is no mandate from the heavens to perform Shamanic Healing for others, but once a truth has been accepted there is no daydreaming it away. Brush my teeth, put my shirt on correctly, go the gym and balance the mayhem with practiced attentiveness.
Boomboomboomboomboomboom.
Sun erupts in unpredictable beauty
Boomboomboomboomboomboom.
Ooohs and ahhhs shower forth
Boomboomboomboomboomboom.
"What does it mean?"
Boomboomboomboomboomboom.
Answers are an illusion, a daydream to distract
Boomboomboomboomboomboom.
Focus there is a wave at hand
Boomboomboomboomboomboom.
Breathe, paddle, breathe, catch the rhythm
Boomboomboomboomboomboom.
Blending with the motion of life.
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