Spring is here and it is the absolute best time of year to plant your seedlings of intent for the upcoming year, so get busy!
In honour of this momentous occasion I have invited my good friend Jura Scott to offer a Shamanic Journey to the winner of this Spring Giveaway Contest.
Jura will spend 15 minutes shamanic journeying for one lucky winner and will follow up with an email containing a transcript of that journey. She requests that you find a quiet place to meditate or relax during the journeying process and she will be emailing you in advance to set up a good time for your journey.
To Enter This Giveaway: Please leave a comment, your email and a question for Jura below. The winner will be chosen just before the upcoming New Moon on April 13th, 2010.
ABOUT SHAMANIC JOURNEYER, Jura Scott:
Jura is a creative being who is building a life that honors her values and expresses who she is. Jura is devoted to self discovery and the sharing and exchanging of those findings with others who are doing the same.
WHAT IS A SHAMANIC JOURNEY?
Shamanic journeying is an expanded state of awareness brought on by rattles and a frame drum. You will experience an awakening and enhancement of your spiritual capacities and your journey will be undertaken with a specific purpose in mind.
WHAT ARE THE BENEFITS OF JOURNEYING?
The revelations you receive can be used for problem solving, well-being and healing; for yourself, on behalf of others and in the service of the planet.
A SAMPLE JOURNEY
This is a shamanic journey that Jura did for Dot on June 13, 2009.
(Transcribed from notes written after the journey.)
Dot's Question:
Where should I go next, east or west?
I began in the place where I start all of my shamanic journeys, the beautiful wooden bridge in Scotland. A mill used to stand on the shore. The bridge stretches from grassy bank to grassy bank and on the right bank stands a huge willow tree.
Standing on the wooden bridge I could hear the ice cold, water rush over moss covered rocks. As I looked out it was foggy and distant almost like a bad focused camera or not having your glasses on. I couldn’t seem to zoom in for a close up of the area and I couldn’t work things out so that I was viewing from my own eyes. Instead I was seeing myself.
From above came the seagull flapping his wings furiously over my head. He looked smaller than in previous journeys I thought. He flapped and poked and prodded and began steering me toward the large tree that sat on the right of the shore.
I could see a small hole about the size of a tooney (a Canadian two dollar coin) at the base of the tree. Soft moss covered the roots that stuck out of the ground. The grass around the tree felt like plastic astroturf or fake plastic grass on my bare feet. Now, I was inside of my body looking out of my eyes.
I looked down at the hole and then suddenly the seagull and me were sucked into it at the same time. We came into the base of the large trunk with a thud. It was dark, cold and silent. The floor was hard packed mud and cool to the touch. A kind of black, matt box came up out of the earth and enveloped us. I sat on the floor in the corner of the box and the flaps of the lid closed above us.
Then the seagull spread out his wings as if to fly, but pressed his back and wings against the lid of the box in a flying position. We began to rise, slowly, up and up and up.
I didn’t feel afraid, just curious. The box stopped rising and the seagull opened the lid flaps. I rose and looked out. We were at the top of the trees. The box was secure on a big branch, propped up by smaller branches all around.
2.
All the while I’m asking the question in my mind, “Where should I go next, east or west?” The atmosphere was misty, a bit damp, a bit foggy, but warm. It may have just rained. For miles and miles were round, fluffy green trees and green grass and small bumps of hills. It was beautiful and peaceful.
Jura: “Is this East or West? I’m not good with directions.” He shrugged his shoulders.
Seagull: “I only know North or South because that’s where I fly every year. “
Jura: “Where’s North?” He pointed up. “Where’s South?” He pointed down. Then I got a vision of Mr. Howard's classroom, my grade 7 teacher who loved to teach geography. I saw the big map he used to pull down from the canister above the chalk board and North was indeed up and South was down on Mr. Howard's map. The acronym “Never Eat Sour Watermelons” (North, East, West, South) came to mind. So I figured the seagull and I were looking to the right of North and now we were looking East.
Jura: “Should she go East?”
Seagull: “Yes, that’s where it all began for her. And that’s where she will be buried.”
Jura: “Is she going to die?”
Seagull: “Eventually everyone dies. That is where she will be buried” he said again. “This is where the trees with roots are. “
Seagull: “She wasn’t really ever yours. She’s going back to where she started.”
Jura: “What about the West, can’t I see that? Shouldn’t we take a look at the West?” He didn’t answer.
Then the box lid flaps started to close and I sat down on the floor in the corner of the box again. The seagull repeated the process of spreading his wings, but this time positioned himself on the floor of the box. We started to descend breaking and snapping the small branches and twigs that had been holding us in place. Snap, pop, crack. The sound was violent and loud.
3.
We got to the base of the tree and we climbed out of the box. I felt a bit annoyed that he hadn’t answered my question about the West. I was getting a vibe from him that he felt he had answered my question and didn’t feel the need to elaborate any further; that wasn’t part of the deal.
Then we found ourselves out of the tree and back on the bridge.
I looked down the roaring river. On one side (the East side) I could still see the greens and trees and hills. On the other side, as far down as the river travelled, there was a large canvas that stretched from the ground far, far, far, up in the sky covering anything that you might see of the West. Painted on this canvas were abstract shapes in very flat colours; light terracotta, tan, and creams.
I wasn’t happy about this. I didn’t like the idea that my client asked me to do something for her and I was going to end up coming back with half of the information. I needed to tell her what’s good and bad about the East and what was good and bad about the West. He looked at me and rolled his eyes.
The seagull flew above the bridge about 20 feet in the air and started to poke a hole and tear the canvas. Suddenly I was up there peering through the hole. I looked through and down first and I saw the edge of a cliff way, way, way, down. I thought of my friend's sister who drove her car off of a cliff in B.C. When I peered directly ahead through the hole, I saw rows and rows of mountains, the Rockies. I was over top of them as if in a plane flying closely -- then the seagull suddenly burst through the hole and began to fly way from me, over the top of the mountains. He said looking back at me, "They’re very pointy, and very sharp, you can really hurt yourself."
Jura's Interpretation:
When Dot came to me for a Shamanic Journey she had just turned 75 years old and her health wasn’t great. She knew that it was time to sell her home and make other arrangements for her final years.
Dot was making a difficult decision… whether to go out west to British Columbia, Canada and live with her daughter or return to her hometown on the opposite coast (East) of Canada and live with her sister. So her question was carefully formulated as “Where should I go next, East or West?”
When I entered into the trunk of the tree I found myself wrapped in a black box not unlike a “black box” or a flight data recorder (FDR) which logs information such as speed and altitude on an airplane as well as carrying beacons to help find the aircraft in a rescue. . The black box could also have been a cockpit voice recorder (CVR) which logs all voice communication in the cockpit.
I felt Dot was in need of a bit of a rescue. She needed to make a move before her ill health progressed. She could not decide what to do. So I proceeded with the journey sitting in the black box. My guide, the seagull traveled with me as usual.
Jura Scott
About Jura Scott: Jura is a creative being who is building a life that honors her values and expresses who she is. Jura is devoted to self discovery and the sharing and exchanging of those findings with others who are doing the same.
To enter the giveaway: Please leave a comment below along with a question for Jura and your email. The winner will be chosen just before the New Moon on April 13, 2010
I'm sharing the words of writer, David Abram from his book "Becoming Animal An Earthly Cosmology" not only for your sake, but also for mine, so I will not forget them as they are a way of thinking and realizing our place in the world.
Each day as I draw from life, outside surrounded by nature, birds, wild things and hot skies, and then later on when I paint abstractly, at home with ambiguity and passion's many flavours, I struggle to find a way to be in a world quite un-accepting of the artist's way. So it's writers like Abram who guide and encourage me with their ponderings.
