Now is the time to open your heart. - Alice Walker, the author of Colour Purple has held me captivated for the past few hours. Read her spell bound as she took me deep into the land of shamans, the concept of "ethnobotanist" plant healing from the jungles of South America, where there are herbal intoxicants used as a medium to free the spirit - called Ayahuasca -vine for the soul (http://www.nationalgeographic.com/adventure/0603/features/peru.html) MUST READ!
The above link, delves well into explaining one of the experiences that someone goes through through energy healing. But that is not what I wanted to delve into. Alica Walker, in her book travels through some memories of the native americans, the shamans of South America and the Hawai culture.
To me the very terms seem so incredible. The fact that you need a term like native americans or abrogines to refer to people who were native to the land they belonged to. For me it is akin to someone coming to India, wiping us all out and then our nation being home to white skinned people and the scattered population left being called native Indians. ! what a joke that shall be.
A native american, in this tale comes every Thanksgiivng to this guys ranch in utah. The ranch is super duper massive, covering acres and acres of land. The native american has only one request, to get water from one spring on their land. Each year he appears, knocks on the door, is driven to the spot, half fills his jug and thanks them in a solemn manner. Years pass, the ritual carries on with his grandson now assisting the old man.
When asked Y he needed the water, the answer was always the same : For ma bones
With time, a mining company discovers coal deposits and the spring is dug up to reveal a lake, the exposed lake soon dries and there below the land there was a huge deposit of bones belonging to his ancestors. he would take the water from the spring, to another deposit across the ranch, pray to the bones buried there and sprinkle some water.
People mock at these ancient lores. Death is the end there is nothing more once we die, are often lines we hear. i for one dont believe. The distressing thing is the mass genocide over the years have made these ancient customs so hidden that other than scattered people who struggle hard with their inner faith to take up the profession, the shamans, the healers, the excorcists are all becoming rarer as diamonds.
am writing this in the wake of an sex -escapade of a swami in south india. As a lawyer, am not sure what is crime is? Sex? is not a crime. Mis representation at best, but that only holds true if he advocated everyone to embrace celibacy. if that was the way it was to work for everyone. Osho said the reverse and he too was banished.
Something in this book has made me want to be there experiencing this healing for myself. When and where and how i dont know. But to explore the inner deeper side of South America is a wish that has been there for a while.
Is consuming external substances the best way to do something like this? Probably not. But then again guess it is the manner and intent that makes the difference. All i know is that somewhere retreats like you clean you from inside, making a lot of everyday feel trivial.
Am in that zone now. Quiet, calm and collected. Not morose just feel like a very slow painter on the wee end of a large huge canvas. Have no rational reason but get a sense that I am closing the lid on a lot of relationships, friendships, thanking them casting off the last lingering thoughts and once that is done, only and only then shall new ties be formed.
For once, there is no haste. only chaste ;-) hehee