So yeah. This weekend, I talked to a rock. More specifically, I asked a question of a rock and received an answer. Basic divination — along the lines of reading tarot or casting runes, but being guided by the spirit within the rock itself.
Perhaps I should back up a little.
I attended the Way of the Shaman introductory workshop this weekend. Two full days of exploring what it means to open oneself to working with spirit allies. Yup, you read that right — and if this sort of “woo-woo, out there” stuff is not your cuppa — especially if it creeps you out or makes you too uncomfortable, please just stop reading.
The same course was offered in February and I considered it then, but I was still too raw, and financially could not justify it, but I knew I wanted to take it. I asked the coordinator to let me know when the next one was coming up in the fall. I am glad I went now and not then — I wasn’t ready then, but I didn’t know that. I realized this weekend that I was able to draw on a bunch of really varied skill sets and experiences that collectively formed a workable toolkit to support my explorations. A lot of these things are not stuff most people know about me, or stuff I have talked about, so … this post leaves me very vulnerable, and yet, I feel like this year is one of transformation and transparency… so maybe it’s appropriate.
So what is in this toolkit? Years of dabbling with divination — reading Tarot, casting runes, cards, stones, and other things. A general belief in “woo-woo” stuff — most who know me and my ease with sarcasm, and my logic and knowledge, find it strange that I sometimes follow astrology, or believe in things like telepathy, astral travel, numerology, other worlds, and spirits. There have been times when those beliefs have been compressed into a dark ball in the back of my mind, whether by others actions or my own fear and discomfort. For example, during my time as a practicing Christian, all of this was compressed into a ball of unwelcome doubt. Writing fiction feels an awful lot like speaking for those who cannot. I am sure not every writer feels this but when I am writing stories, there is a very fully realized character or characters at my side, guiding me. Poetry comes from a different plane, too. In other words, imagination involves communication with others.
But perhaps the two most important tools I needed to bring with me are things I only recently learned: meditation (specifically, using mantras and breathing in order to focus the mind), and letting go. In this case, I spent a lot of time letting go of my Mr. Spock and Simpsons’ Comic Book Guy voices constantly casting doubt on the authenticity of my experiences, and almost mocking me for believing that any of this could be real. I had to let go of things like “this shouldn’t be possible” and “you’ve got to be kidding” and just have faith in the methods and power that generations of people across many cultures have drawn on for healing and understanding.
We were asked to bring a pen and journal to record our journeys, and to take notes. I picked up and put down a number of hard bound blank books, and a couple of coil bound books, but none were brand new, empty of other notes and clutter, except for some very small notebooks.
Frustrated, I opened one of my art drawers and there I found two little unused half-lined exercise books — the kind required for primary grades. I thought that would be perfect and when I found a pen that matched perfectly, I thanked the universe for providing me just the right place to record what I was taught.
There were things I tried that seemed to be straightforward, and that worked, and things that were very VERY difficult for me. A few things could have gone better, but nothing was a complete and utter failure. I approached each exercise with an open mind, open heart, and with honesty and integrity — even if one layer of my consciousness was busy waving off the naysayers.
And when the rock gave me an answer I really didn’t want to hear, I told it to get bent. In hindsight, not the best practice, spiritually, and after I had reflected on it, trying to decide whether the question had been the right one to ask, or phrased in the best way, I realized that the answer was in fact pretty appropriate. So, before I set the rock back on my shelf at home last night, I apologized.
I’d be more than happy to sit and talk face to face about my experiences (including what I asked the rock), if you are interested, or you can read more about shamanism, and specifically the cross-cultural and near-universal concepts and practices, at the Foundation’s website.