A modern-day shaman will shake no rattles, and bang no drums. He won’t walk on hot coals to display his conquest over fire. He won’t walk on water or levitate on empty air. He won’t mesmerize people, put them to sleep, or wake them from death. He won’t speak in tongues, or channel spirits from other realms, nor go into a trance. He won’t take drugs, eat psychedelic plants or make things appear out of thin air. Not that he can’t do all these things. He can, but they have all been done before. He won’t repeat these miracles and wonders. No no, nothing of the sort. The modern-day shaman will create newly, in the manner and style of the time, and her gift will be truly miraculous: S/he will make people laugh.
Ever think about what you would ask if you could ask just one question of “God,” your higher power, your spirit guides, an angel or even your own immortal soul? The main thing to remember is there wouldn’t be any question too difficult to ask. You’d be certain to get a definitive answer. You would surely be told the truth, the whole truth and nothing but. If you knew that, and you were asking your God, or another higher intelligence what would you ask?
I often think how great it would be to have access to the answers to the so-called unanswerable questions, like why are we here? What is the purpose of our lives? What is most important? And, if I was feeling brave, how am I doing?
But then, when I trick myself into actually believing in the prospect of being in such a position, I find I lose my nerve. I do. As hard as it might be to imagine me silent, it’s true. Faced with the ultimate Answer Man, given access to the giver of the Final Word, I find I stand before them mute. I can’t decide what question I ought to ask! I mean, I only get one.
What should I ask? What would you ask if it was you?
This post was written on 09/17/2011, the day Becky Burnham passed into the light of grace. Being with her at that moment and comforting her human self just a little allowed me to witness the miracle of death, the release of her spirit into the light, which came and took her. I felt the peace that is perfect. A great privilege.
Last night I was sending Reiki to my friend’s mother, who is between Hospice and the ER…in other words, dying. At first I felt the pounding of her heart, as if it was between my own ears. I felt her effort, the hard work of it, the exhausting business of continuing to breathe, of the tired heart continuing to pump.
It was exhausting. And I realized how tired she was, how bone tired and heart sore weary she was. I was filled with empathy. With my mind I reached out to comfort dear Becky. I embraced her and lovingly assured her it was okay to relax now. It’s okay to rest. Don’t struggle I heard myself say to her in the mind-to-mind way we do psychically. And she rested against me. Laid back in my arms, I could tell she was grateful. She’d been struggling automatically, quite naturally, and she was pleased to stop.
At once a great light descended around her body, engulfing her and touching me as well. But my consciousness pulled away, so I was no longer embracing her, but observing from just a little way off. The light was amazing, unlike any light we have here on Earth. It swept around her head to foot and then it lifted her up. She was being carried away by the light.
And with the light came a feeling, pervasive and complete, a feeling of the most profound peace. A peace we can’t even imagine. I felt so blessed to have been nearby and close enough to feel it, even if only for a brief moment.
It wasn’t but a moment and she floated up and away, light to light. I was left here of course. I was, as they say “blown away.” For long lovely minutes, I basked in the afterglow.
Namaste, dear Becky. Thank you.