Recently I attended a ceremony held by a local shaman and healer who happens to be a friend. (And no, you’d never know she was a shaman if you met her on the street.) Because of what happened later, I’ve completely forgotten what the theme of the ceremony was, although I remember thinking it contained some jewels of wisdom as I sat listening.
Toward the end of the evening, the shaman said Spirit had instructed her that some of us were in need of healing. A few women nodded. The shaman wrapped up her comments and began to randomly call on the people sitting in her beautifully decorated living room. I didn’t feel in need of healing in any way, shape or form, but it’s always interesting watching the exchanges that take place the few times I’ve witnessed them. So I settled back on the sofa, expecting nothing more than to listen.
After powerful exchanges with several participants, the shaman turned to me and asked on what topic did I require guidance? Stunned, I stammered something about not needing any guidance. Not at all? the shaman said.
I searched my mind but came up with nothing. Nothing at all. (This was before my daughter’s in-home school program began. Otherwise I’m sure I would have asked about that.) I shook my head. The shaman closed her eyes and breathed deeply. After a moment of silence, she said, “There is a question you have struggled with for years. Over three years, I believe.”
I stared at her and before I could form a thought, I found myself talking. “That’s my law firm. I incorporated about four years ago, planned to launch in the fall three-and-a-half years ago. But I’ve been dragging my feet. I not sure why. Part of me really wants to do it, but something keeps holding me back….” I trailed off.
The shaman closed her eyes and breathed. “Where is your power?”
“Excuse me?”
“Spirit asks: What is the source of your power? Where does it come from? And how, Spirit asks, did you lose it? To who or what did you give your power away?”
All eyes in the room riveted on me. I was speechless. Her questions sucked the air from my lungs and rattled my bones. I knew they contained an inescapable truth. Tears sprung to my eyes, although I couldn’t tell you why. My mind was a whirlpool, sucking everything down, down, down.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, I stammered, “I don’t know how to answer that.”
The shaman smiled. “Spirit says, I know.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “So if I figure that out, will I know what to do? Will the situation become more clear?”
“Crystal clear.”
“Well,” I said, laughing through my tears, “then I guess I know what I need to work on.”
–To be continued–
Until next time,
Cynthia
