With a reprieve from the rain that has dowsed us for many days now, I headed to the river to perform a Sacred Pipe Ceremony in order to connect to my spirit guides, particularly White Buffalo Calf Woman who has been one of my leading helping spirits over the years, particularly in the last four since becoming a Pipe Carrier, and especially since the beginning of the Covid pandemic.
In July I officially became self-employed as a fulltime Shaman, and I have been enjoying quite a bit of success with my practice as my clientele and students steadily increased. Then a couple weeks ago things seemed to dry up considerably. Readings didn't just decrease but fell off completely. Between the store I read at on Mondays and my office where I am for the rest of the week, I have had no readings. None. In the past two weeks I have offered my Introduction to Shamanic Journey class twice and have had no one sign up. I'm about to begin my 6th or 7th year of offering a year-long, monthly course on Shamanism and again have had next to no interest other than from a friend who actually teaches Shamanism himself.
So I have been left in a bit of a fugue, keeping the faith that this is just an ebb and that things will flow again soon, but still dealing with a rising of old self-doubt and feelings of inadequacy.
This comes right on the heels of an incident around my work space that felt like the rug being pulled out from under me, and which put me into an existential tail spin. I am withholding the details as it concerns others and as the point of this is not in what others have done, but in how I deal with what triggered me. Suffice it to say, I spent many tearful hours in Pipe Ceremony seeking guidance and realignment, as well as a few angry moments yelling and punching my bed -- Truly atypical reactions for me.
As I regained my equilibrium and could breathe again, White Buffalo Calf Woman put things into perspective for me, saying that up until now my roots could only go so deep because it was like there was a layer of bedrock beneath me that kept me from reaching the depths that were necessary for my work. This 'shake up' was actually my metaphorical roots breaking through that hard layer of bedrock so they could extend down, with out limit, to attain the proper depth needed to support me and the work I am being called to do. I literally needed to descend deeper before I could rise up into my full height. I think it was the following week that this was validated for me when my beloved elder and teacher, who was instrumental in my becoming a Pipe Carrier, died and I was handed the reins of the weekly Pipe Circle that she had led for years. Through the grief and surreal feelings surrounding her passing, I could feel my roots deepening and holding me in a sense of rightness. I felt prepared and ready for this honor.
So at the river today I asked White Buffalo Calf Woman if there were anything I'm doing wrong or that I need to do differently to shift things in order to stay afloat and be available to support my community. It is still sometimes difficult to override the old Catholic upbringing and not take seemingly unfortunate events as some sort of punishment, or at least as a result of doing something wrong. Of course her answer was that there was nothing wrong.
"Listen to your own words that you tell others," she told me, going on to quote a live video I'd done the night before, "You are perfect. There is nothing wrong with you, and you have done nothing wrong. You are still in the right place at the right time doing the right thing. It is so easy for you to see this in others but you exclude yourself. There is nothing wrong and there is nothing to fix. We told you we would not let you fall, and so we shall not."
She explained how, with the earlier occurrence and the deepening of my roots, that the majority of my energy is literally focused below the surface, underground, to establish the stronger foundation with my roots embracing the earth as she embraces me, so that I can grow into the person I came here to become. Hence the lack of work coming to me above the surface at the moment.
Suddenly her words were interrupted by the realization that in my mind's eye I was staring into the eye of a horse, whose head hove right in front of my face. A little startled I exclaimed, "Wind Dancer?!" Almost immediately I realized this wasn't my Horse power animal with whom I was well acquainted. This horse's coat was brown rather than the pure white of Wind Dancer, and his energy was much more serious and intense than Wind Dancer's playful rompiness. The name that came with him was "Salvik" and he informed me that he had been my horse many lifetimes ago. At this time he was coming forward to help me remember my personal power and to carry me to new horizons beyond what I had known thus far in this life.
I found myself on his back running across a very Mongolian appearing barren landscape. He told me to feel the wind and to let it cleanse me, blowing from me anything that was not mine to hold onto. It was exhilarating and I could feel my stomach clenching at our unbridled power and speed. "Yes," he smiled, "That! Your Solar Plexus, the seat of your power! Let it open and ease into this new level of power now surging through you!"
At that I notices that Salvik had extended wings from his sides -- Not bird wings like Pegasus but batwings like... a Dragon! At that same instant it registered in my mind that I wasn't bobbing up and down anymore because we were no longer running -- We were flying! We were soaring just above the ground at a horse's normal height. To accentuate this entire experience, it was at this moment that an Osprey chose to call out twice, a rather dragon-sounding call, and settle into a tree across the river from me, Osprey's message being "Eyes on the prize! Stay the course without distraction."
When I returned home I looked up the name Salvik to see what it meant, not to mention whether it actually existed. It does exist, is of very old Russian or Polish origin, and has spread throughout Central and South Eastern Europe as well as non-Slavic countries such as France and Germany. It is actually a pet name for the given name Stanislav and it means "Someone who achieves glory and/or fame."
So despite the familiar nervous flutterings in my stomach, I feel reassured that everything is unfolding in harmony and according to plan. I am learning to trust the patterns of ebb and flow as I ride my Dragon-Horse to glory!
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