Calling out for a Medicine Man

I sat last Wednesday in the quiet morning silence of a smoky forest just east of town.  The feeling was a bit surreal, to see and feel how thick the air was.  It was the first morning of two needed nights of decompression the best way I know how, sleeping on Earth and sitting in her stillness.  The sky was an adequate expression of my feelings.  The pain and stiffness in my joints had gotten bad enough to affect my sleep and the longevity of these symptoms had become quite frustrating.  My energy was clouded and overall I felt dazed.  I knew I was at another juncture in my healing process.

Previous to departing I had a conversation with a new friend that was a bit of a reawakening.  He shared the story of a significant healing process that he had gone through years ago.  It was self-guided and ethereal, and resulted in a complete cure.  We swapped more stories of healing experiences, the essence of energy to the flow of life, and of gurus and medicine men.  Ignited again was a knowing I’ve had since my leukemia diagnosis in March.  I was being asked to step up and step fully into my power as a healer.

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So I sat in the haze of far off forest fires and internal flames.  My teakettle neared boiling as I opened my notebook to retrieve a list that had been on my mind for some time.  As my mixture of respiratory soothing herbs sat steeping I studied my list of givers.  My gratitude and awe deepened exponentially with each name I highlighted on my spreadsheet.  I’d been feeling a need to give back, at least energetically, to all those who have gifted me.  The notion of how to do that was a bit overwhelming.  I rose and walked with my tea to the rise above camp and quietly caught movement.  I focused in on a rafter of wild turkeys and watched them scour the ground and erratically devour arthropods.  I lightened with silent laughter while pondering animal medicine and the magic of nature.  It was clear that I would share this experience and this “medicine” with all of you who have given so much to me.

I walked for much of the rest of the day pushing through the stiffness in my body.  I sat often breathing deeply and playing my aspen flute to its leafy kin.  I sat in meditation and prayer, moving energy the best way I know how.  The knowing deepened that I require more than conventions for my healing.  How is it I bounced back from chemo quicker than any patient my oncologist had ever seen, and, in turn had some of the poorest results?  My trip to Mexico was a huge boost, but I can feel unfinished business in my body.  There is more I need; it is multi-dimensional.  I need to step into the deepest and most quintessential aspect of my Being.  I know this, yet I am not sure how.  I have spent much of my life doing things differently.  I have unlearned many of the woes and wrongs of my cultural paradigm.  But now I sit a bit in the mist, in the unknown.  To proceed I need a teacher, so I call out for a medicine man.

I returned to camp and began to prepare dinner.  I gazed across the clearing I was camped in and perceived a noticeable clarity.  The air was cleaner; the haze had lifted.  This seemed improbable after the day’s northern views of endless smoke.  I descended into the comfort of my tent with relief for my sinuses and lungs, yet I felt uneasy in my guts.  The symptoms were not the semi-panic filled twisting I am too familiar with.  This felt heavy and gaseous, a purging.  I slept through the night and woke at first light.  Things were different.  I felt clear and light in my body.  My joints ached, but not with the same intensity I’d been experiencing.  I felt centered, focused and motivated.  A purging had taken place.  Through my ceremony and communion I experienced relief.  I know this reality and I know this feeling.  I also sit here with what feels like an immense burden to shed.  I am ready to let it go.  I am ready for complete healing on all levels.  I call out for a medicine man.  Please hear my prayers and smell the smoke of my sage.