#shaman

Why do airline pilots always call passengers "folks"? I don't usually take umbrage at generic terminology--I'm one of those forward-thinkers who believes that "man" encompasses the whole darned race -- but at whatever 0'clock in the mornning. I thought it would be nice to be called sometihng that suggested unwashed masses a little less. ↗

— C.E. Murphy

#humor #urban-shaman #humor

It (Life) is constantly changing, and yet it remains the same. ↗

— Jan Hawkins

#australian-story #dreaming-series #shaman #change

She was the cook, the hostess, the comforter, and the keeper of all the mysterious secrets for how to do just about everything. ↗

— S. Kelley Harrell

#shamanism #inspirational

I first felt myself a shaky axis between worlds when I watched my grandfather move those prophetic queens. ↗

— S. Kelley Harrell

#shamanism #inspirational

Since the so-called Age of Enlightenment, our shaky anthropocentric, rationalist egos have been brainwashed to forget what 'primitive' cultures once understood: Animals can be manifestations of celestial beings in disguise; they possess supernatural abilities, and they can be our spiritual guides and healers. ↗

— Zeena Schreck

#animal-stories #animals #beatdom #shamanism #age

Solar Eclipse Each morning I wake invisible. I make a needle from a porcupine quill, sew feet to legs, lift spine onto my thighs. I put on my rib and collarbone. I pin an ear to my head, hear the waxwing's yellow cry. I open my mouth for purple berries, stick on periwinkle eyes. I almost know what it is to be seen. My throat enlarges from anger. I make a hand to hold my pain. My heart a hole the size of the sun's eclipse. I push through the dark circle's tattered edge of light. All day I struggle with one hair after another until the moon moves from the face of the sun and there is a strange light as though from a kerosene lamp in a cabin. I pun on a dress, a shawl over my shoulders. My threads knotted and scissors gleaming. Now I know I am seen. I have a shadow. I extend my arms, dance and chant in the sun's new light. I put a hat and coat on my shadow, another larger dress. I put on more shawls and blouses and underskirts until even the shadow has substance ↗

— Diane Glancy

#eclipse #resilience #scorched-edges #shamanism #ymir

With the manipulation of abstract symbols, an artist can send you information without sound, change your feelings and, sometimes, even beliefs. Artists convey the unspeakable. Artists inspire. ↗

— Jonathan Culver

#artists #inspiration #shamanism #symbols #art

Margaret De Wys's Ecstatic Healing is a holy voyage--a remarkable testament of one courageous woman forced by her own sickness to discover the mysterious world of shamanic and spiritual healing. Her's is a journey of surrendering, a journey to faith, and a journey toward accepting herself as a healer. As in her first book "Black Smoke" Margaret writes with utter honesty, which helps us as we join her on her personal journey and question our own life journey as human beings and as healers. ↗

— Itzhak Beery

#courage

I let my head fall back, and I gazed into the Eternal Blue Sky. It was morning. Some of the sky was yellow, some the softest blue. One small cloud scuttled along. Strange how everything below can be such death and chaos and pain while above the sky is peace, sweet blue gentleness. I heard a shaman say once, the Ancestors want our souls to be like the blue sky. ↗

— Shannon Hale

#mysticism #shaman #sky #death