For months now, I’ve been talking about needing to find a “teacher,” someone to teach me about magick, shamanism, healing, spirituality, life, living, and all those things that I am so intent on knowing. Finally, one day I suggested to my friend Daniel that maybe I should just make an appointment and show up and wait… like for example, I could tell the Master of the Universe that I could be found every Sunday at 2 pm sitting in the coffee shop at Borders in Lee’s Summit, and to please send my teacher there to find me.
God often speaks to me through books, and I figured that if no one showed up, maybe I’d at least find a book or a CD, and if all else fails, I will have enjoyed a good cup of coffee.
However… always there’s the buts and the howevers… it never seemed really practical or possible to commit to being in town at a specific place at a specific time on one of my days off, and I for sure wouldn’t be able to commit for the days that I work. So… the idea just sat there… unattended and well… fermenting.
Then, when I was in Texas, my sister and I visited Barnes and Noble and I found a really cool book on the bargain table. The North American Indian by Edward S Curtis.
I opened it up and flipped through the pages, and stopped, riveted by the image of this most amazing person. He looked right into me. I could hear… yes, really… I could hear him chanting Lakota prayers… almost I could smell the sage… and the warm red earth… the feathers and the skins and the people around me… almost.
It was like a revelation. Here was my teacher… here were my teachers… I would take that book home, and every day as part of my morning meditation, I would open the book at random, meet with my teacher, and listen, and learn. Cool huh?
Blessings from my heart to your eyes!
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- Khetani Machangana: Learn To See