The Shaman’s Gift of Healing, Page 1
I apologize to my blog followers and readers for being so long in posting a new article. We’ve been on a trip to the Pacific Northwest Coast to spend time with our boys and grandchildren in Oregon and California. It’s good to be back and writing again.
I’ve been called a shaman because I use frequency-shifting sound healing and subtle energy attunement techniques in my work as a healer. But I know from my own profound experience over fifty years of service to humanity that there’s something deeper and more to the purpose of healing than the modality of technique in the healing work of a true shaman. A true shaman offers healing of the rift between two worlds. The invisible world of Reality, wherein lies the divine design for perfect health and happiness, and the visible world of ailing flesh, suffering only from a separation from its Creator. That separation, however, is but an illusion — an illusion, nevertheless, that shapes the flesh and the world in which it suffers. In the real world, there is no separation. This paradoxical condition is what sets up the illusion out of which we turn heaven into a hell here on earth. It is the shaman’s role to transcend the illusory world and stand in divine identity in the invisible realm of spirit to facilitate the shaping of patterns of light to the unique healing needs of his client. I was confirmed in this awareness as I read Hugh Malafry’s novels.
THE BLUE SHAMAN
I’ve just finished my second reading of the first book of Hugh Malafry’s trilogy Blue Shaman, The Stone of Sovereignty, and started my second reading of book two, Caverns of Ornolac. As in all second readings of a thrilling and complex novel, I saw so much more than what I did in my first reading.
What draws me back to this author’s trilogy is the otherworldly setting for a very complex story. To sojourn in another world, the world of the shaman, is such a refreshing reprieve from the world of CNN, MSNBC, and Fox News; even BBC and PBS. That world has little to offer of hope for the future of mankind. The Real world is the invisible one, coverage of which is virtually impossible by any news agency. Malafry does exactly that, interweaving morsels of profound wisdom and simple truths as he unfurls a dialogue between characters. Here are a few of those jewels of wisdom:
“Sometimes a life’s work takes more than a life’s time.”
“Time yields to purpose.”
“To weave light in patterns, tie water in knots, and shape the ten thousand things.” [A worthy, though rightly ambitious, sense of mission and purpose.]
“Give me your heart,” Maia said [to Caron, the blue shaman], “and I will shape a world for you. . . . It is no more than any woman asks of a man to whom she gives herself.”
Was it any wonder men shy from giving their heart to women: One moment she was lamb, another lion, and one never knew when one or the other might rise in her or to what end.
. . . when you have lost your centering in life, everywhere is nowhere, and the world is desolate.
“Is it not the way of the warrior to be at peace within, even when he knows he must fight?”
“Can you make whole what has been broken?” [Lady Esclarmonde asks the blue shaman. His reply is wise.] “God has made a whole and it cannot be otherwise,” he said. “I will give it to God: He will determine in this matter what is to be.”
“You must let go your shadow. To cross over [into the “In-world”] you must see yourself on the other side.”
“Always walk into the light.” [Even though — and particularly when — you know you will lose your life and all that you have invested in making yourself into who and what you think you are . . . and your life will never be the same.]
Life on this side of the veil that separates us from the “In-world” is portrayed in the story of the blue shaman as the illusion it is. What separates also connects. There is something most wonderful on the other side of the veil. The loss of illusion, for one thing, though probably scary for mortals who find meaning and purpose in making one’s way through the shadows of the mind-made world of survival. That mortal, the human ego, feels justifiably threatened by the Light at the end of the tunnel described by those who tell of their near-death encounters, because it knows that it’s curtains for it. I wonder if I will feel that same hesitancy the blue shaman had to walk into the light when I make my transition from this world to the world of Light. Not so much, I should think, for someone who has walked into the Light of Reality in the face of sure loss of his world as he knows it in order to discover and realize who he is as a divine being. The story takes you to such a place in consciousness.
THE INSEPARABLE MALE AND FEMALE
For me, the entire trilogy is a story about the relationship between the masculine and feminine as they partner in shaping their worlds. It seems the Orion shaman is always being challenged to master the sweet influences of his Pleiadian counterpart — who seems, interestingly enough, always to live in the Otherworld, which dynamic of the story tends to suggest that our “soul mates” do not incarnate with us. Hmm. Another interesting portrayal of the male-female relationship is that it’s always feminine entities who meet and greet the shaman at the threshold between the worlds to clear him for worthiness of passage and to guide him in his journey. It is through the heart, love’s domain and our feminine part, that we enter the kingdom of heaven. “Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God.” — Jesus
There’s truth to this in the way a woman tests her man before allowing him into her heart and inner sanctum as a worthy partner in creating her world in what is obviously a man’s world. Malafry portrays this “battle of the sexes,” but not without resolution. I love his resolution toward the end of the book. Much like the riddle of getting the goose out of the bottle without killing the goose or breaking the bottle, at some level — like before the riddle maker created the illusion of a goose in a bottle — the goose is not in the bottle. Likewise, at some level there is no “battle of the sexes” but only the thrilling heavenly experience of a shared creativity. Again I say “Hmm.”
TO RESTORE PARADISE — THE GRAIL QUEST
The most captivating chapter for me was “The Shaman,” because I could relate to the challenges of the shaman. There’s a dialogue in it that alludes to a time when time and death were not and yet humans thought to change and improve upon their lives in Paradise. Whether or not one subscribes to this version of human history, Malafry weaves a believable and likely scenario of mankind’s fall from grace and stature. The path of the shaman is driven by an insatiable desire to make things right again and restore the world of mankind to the paradise of “The First Time.” Restoring the elusive Holy Grail of the blue “Stone of Sovereignty” into the hands of the Knights Templar for its ultimate return to the “Sisters of the Blood Royal” and the Grail King, is the blue shaman’s mission and purpose — very similar to that of Frodo in Lord of the Rings, as is the promise: the restoration of life and prosperity to Paradise.
As Malafry tells it, the story of the fall from grace is a haunting one for me, as if at some level in my consciousness I know I was there in the Beginning and when things literally went to hell. I’ll let you read it as he tells it.
As in the Lord of the Rings where the ring is coveted for its power, shaman Morgon Kara takes the blue stone in his hands as the blue shaman Caron slept before his fire after he had rescued him from certain death. The following dialogue is between Morgon Kara and Maia, his guide and empowering partner in shaping worlds to their own end. (I’ll have to share this excerpt on multiple pages.)
Perplexed, Morgon Kara opened his hand and held the jewel to the fire. It glowed with an inner fire that drew him deep into its triangular planes of light. Most precious stones were empty vessels, nothing more than the trace of their own experience as they passed age-to-age, hand to hand. But he knew the ancients had altered some to make record, others as focalizations of force, and a very few for use in the shaping of essence. This stone was all that and more, but never before had anything so eluded him. He sought the pattern of things that shimmered within, but could resolve nothing in the tantalizing play of light and shadow that beckoned but would not reveal. Even so, the stone was bound to Caron and would not let him die.
“Erlik Khan in his castle of black clay has reached out for you, but he is denied. Can a man defy death?” He knew something of the stone, for Maia had spoken of it, and he had long hoped it would come to his hand. He might have taken it from Hassan, but Maia said it destroyed those to whom it was not given; and though he doubted her in this, she had spoken of it with such awe, he feared to cross her was to lose her.
“There is a stone, in the old tongue called, Uru An-Na, light of heaven,” she had said. “It is in the world, and the world is in it. This stone has the virtue to bind, loose and shape the world within, and so shape what is in the world without.”
“You are speaking in riddles, Maia,” he had said.
“It is exactly as I have said. In Uru An-Na the Ancients shaped the Holy Norm for this world. It exists so that no matter what is done by man, the patterns of Uru An–Na will prevail, and they have done this so that the earth shall not fail. Uru An–Na is the seal of the Makers, and a bar to the final trespass of the human will.”
“We must have this stone.”
“And it is well we should,” Maia agreed, “for the Sisters must yield to him who masters its influences. But the stone will not be taken by force.”
Morgon Kara closed his hand about the stone, remembering what Maia had told him. “Riddles, Maia, always riddles,” he always complained, but he had heard every word, and could repeat them still verbatim, even if he did not always at once understand her meaning. This was surely that stone. Hassan had taken it from a victim, who doubtless took it from another, but now it had been given to the one who had come across the wilderness in search of the lost Hallow of the Blood Royal.
Morgon Kara returned the jewel to the pouch at Caron’s neck . . . .
“Tell me again of the stone of the Makers.”
“I have told you the truth of Uru An-Na,” she said.
“Tell me again, how by its use the Ancients shaped living forms animated by fire from the center of the earth.”
“If it is as you have said what need of me?” It was her ritual to object. She would be courted. It was his ritual to reply. “It is for you, beloved, I seek understanding.”
(To be Continued)
I invite you to visit my other blog and read the feature article of Health Light Newsletter, “The Affordable ‘Disease Care’ Law.” I am looking forward to my next post. Until then,
Be love. Be loved.
Anthony
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Healing Tones 