A Shamanic Journey – from Becoming the Oldest Generation – Excerpt from Part II

On Mom’s dresser live a black metal whale and a green jade fish. I carried them up the narrow staircase lined with famous paintings and small pieces of antiquities.  Black whalecrpd1

Emerging into the large open room with its plush Oriental rug covering the marble floor, I placed pieces of old Roman glass, translucent blue, in the whale’s open mouth. I arranged an altar in the center, with the candle and sage, the whale, the fish and the enameled box where the panther spirit who is helping Mom resides temporarily. Found feathers from here grace this altar too. I have lightly saged the room and have placed pillows for everyone in a circle on the Oriental rug. My elk skin drum, rattle and beaded leather medicine bag wait, ready for this ritual to celebrate Mom’s birthday.

Medicine Bag
Medicine Bag

When we gathered together, I lit the candle and called to all the directions, entreating the spirits to help us. As our intention, we asked for help and guidance for Virginia. If people wanted, I said, they could also journey for me, but I stressed that my concern was for Virginia. With that intention as our guide, while everyone lay down on their backs and covered their eyes, I picked up my drum and began to play the trance inducing monotonous beat for the journey. Finally I played the callback rhythm, bringing the journeyers back into their bodies. One by one they opened their eyes and sat up.

Marianna in the yurt
The author doing shamanic work in her yurt in California.

 

 

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