Category: Spirit Guide Wisdom

Hello everyone! For this journey, I decided to revisit a question I started to explore as part of a recent shamanic workshop: “What is humanity’s role in the Earth’s evolution?”

I specifically set the intent to visit the spirit of Mother Earth. If you’re a regular reader of my blog, you may remember she made a brief appearance in another of my posts about… ummm, mushroom people. Yes, you read that right, mushroom people.

Honestly, this is one of my all-time favourite journeys. And I’ve done quite a few over the years. But what I experienced today really resonated with me. So, without further ado, here’s what happened. Enjoy!

—

Intention set to visit Mother Earth, I settled onto my cushion. Even before I closed my eyes I felt a sense of downward motion. So, when I opened my eyes to non-ordinary reality, I wasn’t surprised to find myself, still sitting cross-legged, on a platform slowly lowering itself down into the earth.

You’d think it would be dark, but there was a soft glow emanating from the rocks, growing brighter the further down I went. Then the platform gently stopped in a large cave, nestled somewhere deep in the earth’s crust. Ahead I could see a small table with two chairs. And Mother Earth sitting in the far chair wearing a light brown business suit, of all things.

I stood and walked over to sit in the other chair as Mother Earth picked up a tea pot and started pouring a dark brown liquid into the two cups set out on the table.

“Here,” she said, passing me one of the cups, “this is one of my herbal blends. I think you’ll like it.” And she raised her cup in a cheers gesture before taking a sip herself.

Compassionate spirits sometimes offer me food and drink like this, always with some sort of healing properties. So I happily took a sip, noting the (unsurprisingly) earthy tone.

As an aside, if you’re doing your own journeys, it’s important to only accept gifts like this from compassionate spirits. Just like in ordinary reality, don’t go accepting things from strange spirits you’ve never met before. And if you’re up on your fairy folklore (the real lore, not the sanitized Disney stuff), you know sometimes that can lead to a world of trouble!

As I sipped my tea, I sensed someone leaning over my shoulder. I looked up to see one of the Mushroom People from the journey I linked above. This one was wearing a classy waiter’s tux while holding out a silver tray to me. With a single biscotti on it.

“Oh, you should try dipping that in the tea,” Mother Earth said encouragingly, “it’s so good.” How could I refuse? I took the biscotti, nodding thanks to the Mushroom person, and dunked it in my tea. And she was right, it tasted great.

Okay, you may be wondering at this point what any of this has to do with the role of humanity in earth’s evolution. I’ll admit, I’m not entirely sure, but every part of a shamanic journey has meaning. If nothing else, I think this gives you a little taste (pun intended) of Mother Earth’s personality. Which in turn will give you a hint as to what’s important to her.

“So,” I asked, “what can you tell me about humanity’s role in your evolution?”

“Hmmm,” she replied thoughtfully, “evolution is a tricky term. I have a growth cycle just like the rest of you.”

And then, as sometimes happens in my journeys, I was filled with the ‘knowing’ that evolution implies a steady path forward. But she specifically said she had a growth cycle, which includes creation, existence, and death/transition. So she was inviting me, and all of you, to think about the idea of life and evolution differently.

As I considered that, Mother Earth stood and walked to the nearby wall of the cave. With a wave of her arm, the scene of a green, grassy field emerged. Almost like a giant high-definition monitor had appeared in front of us.

Rising from my chair and walking over beside her, I asked what she was trying to show me. Instead of explaining, she took my hand and we walked through the monitor into the grassy field. That’s not abnormal in non-ordinary reality, but it was still an impressive trick.

Standing there, I watched the tall grass wave around me in the light wind. It was an incredibly tranquil moment.

Mother Earth turned to me then, saying, “Rather than asking the role humanity plays in my evolution, ask yourself ‘how am I part of the world?’ instead.”

I immediately started to say something about being part of the global ecosystem, but she gently shushed me and said, “No, don’t intellectualize it. Feel the question.”

So I stood there, closed my eyes, did my best to quiet my mind, and let the question sink into me. How am I part of the world?

“I am creativity,” I blurted out suddenly. It came from somewhere deep inside myself. And I don’t think I meant just me. Per her question, I think that was an answer about humanity.

“Good,” she said softly, her words flowing on the wind rustling the grass around me. “You all think of yourselves as discrete beings. Separate consciousnesses. And you each do exist. But you’re not separate the way you think you are.”

I felt Mother Earth rest a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “What else?” she asked.

Sinking deeper into myself, her hand the only thing keeping me anchored, I followed Mother Earth’s question.

“I am colour in the winter,” I heard myself say.

What??

But this image held me so strongly. Me, in my signature red coat, this beautiful splash of colour in a winter blizzard. An upwelling of happiness just flowed through me. Unlike the creativity that apparently is characteristic of all humans, this part was specifically about me.

“Oh, I love that!” Mother Earth exclaimed. My eyes snapped open to see her gleefully clapping her hands together as she did a little jump in the air. And I realized we were standing in a snow-covered field now. Me being the brightest point as far as the eye could see.

Can I tell you what being colour in the winter actually means? Intellectually, not yet. But it feels ‘right’. It’s a powerful metaphor – the true language of the spirit world. So believe me, it’s something I’m going to be feeling into going forward.

Resting her hand on my shoulder again, a huge smile on her face, Mother Earth went on to explain, “What you all don’t understand is that you are part of me. And I’m part of you.” Well, that’s significant. I know the idea of all life being connected isn’t new, but in this journey I was feeling it. And it’s not just all life. All manifest ‘things’, including rocks and water, are connected.

“What that means to your original question,” Mother Earth continued, “is everything you think and do, every moment you create, influences me. And through me, every thing and every person in the world gets influenced.”

Okay, that’s worth taking a moment to unpack. What Mother Earth is saying is that every thought, feeling and action we put into the world is transmitted to her, and through her. Again, this isn’t an original concept. But for me it drove home how everything we do directly influences everything and everyone else in the world!

Mother Earth nodded, picking up on my thoughts as only spirit guides can. “You asked what role humans play in my evolution. You are all creators, unlike any other being that’s part of me.”

Resting both her hands on my shoulders, and looking me squarely in the eye, she continued. “If you continue to create unconsciously, to react without understanding, you’ll create random chaos.” And you have to admit, there seems to be more than enough of that going around right now.

But she smiled as she continued. “Instead, if you are conscious and take care in what you create, even in your thoughts, you can manifest something amazing. All the more if you consciously work together.”

She was reinforcing the idea that, if we are all consciously self-aware and compassionate, our collective creativity can change the world for the better. And from a shamanic perspective that’s not limited to humans. Imagine what we could do if we consciously aligned our intent with all of the beings (animals, plants, fungi, inanimate matter) that makes up the Earth? What could we achieve?

I don’t want to risk making that sound too easy. It’s a lot of constant work to be mindful of our thoughts, feelings and actions. To create rather than destroy.

I suspect we’ll never get it perfectly right – we’re only human. But, every moment is an opportunity to create something positive. Let’s make the most of each of those moments we can, and not berate ourselves for any missed opportunities.

Mother Earth gave me one last smile, then blew me a kiss of autumn leaves that started whisking me back into my body. As I flew away from her I started to say ‘goodbye’, but somehow I understood that our constant interconnection (human and Earth) meant there really is no such thing as goodbye.

So, instead, I said a heart-felt ‘thank you.’

—

That journey impacted me quite profoundly. In the best possible way. I can only hope I’ve done it justice in how I’ve related the story to you. If you’ve got any thoughts or questions, please do leave a comment.

Take care, my interconnected friends on this great growth cycle of the world.

Eric, your shamanic guide… into the unknown.

Of the journeys I’ve posted on my website, this is perhaps the one that’s had the most lasting impact on how I approach life. The messages I received continue to gently push me into a ‘new way of being.’ And it all came from asking my guides this question: “Given all the strife and discord we see in the world today, how do we still act with compassion for common good?”

—

As I closed my eyes, I found myself sitting in a snow-covered field with a blizzard raging around me. I didn’t think about it at the time, but in the context of the rest of the journey, I’d say this was a metaphor for the strife and discord I’d asked about – both in the world, and in our reaction to it.

But I love snow. I’m weird that way. So, I sat there for a moment enjoying the weather. Until I sensed a presence off to my right. Looking up, I saw my spirit guide, the Magician, standing next to me, his stereotypical wizard’s cloak and hat whipping about in the wind. He motioned for me to follow him, so I stood and we started trudging through the knee-deep snow.

After a moment, I started to make out what looked like spots of firelight in the distance, and quickly realized they were windows in a wooden lodge. Out in the middle of the otherwise barren tundra. As we made our way towards the lodge, the Magician leaned over to me and said, “You’re in for a warm welcome here.”

As I swung the door open, warm air and the pleasant smell of a wood fire greeted us. Followed immediately by peals of laughter. Stepping in, I saw almost two-dozen people sitting and standing at various tables around a stone fireplace with a roaring fire. Men and women were laughing and joking while enjoying a drink or a meal, and a few were playing some sort of dice game at the foot of the fire.

Off to the left, a woman behind a bar saw us entering and hollered for us to hang our damp cloaks by the door, take a seat and that she’d be with us in just a moment.

Seeing a wooden table and two seats nearby, the Magician and I sat and got comfortable. And I do mean comfortable. Everything about this place radiated warmth. The fire, the rough wooden walls, the candle sconces shining light into every corner of the room. And especially the laughter of the people around us.

“They won’t even ask you your name,” the Magician said to me as he got settled in his chair. “It’s an ancient tradition, you know, not to ask who someone is or why they’re travelling until after they’ve been fed and offered lodging for the night.”

The Magician went on to say they offered this warmth and comfort to other people regardless of their beliefs, gender, ethnicity, and so forth, because they put more value on the things that made them alike than the things that made them different.

“That’s just common decency,” I replied.

The Magician looked amused, and retorted, “Yet, how often do people in your world offer that to each other? Hmmm?”

I, well… hey! I indignantly thought about all the examples of people around the world offering each other help and support in wars and disasters. So I said as much to the Magician.

Which is when the woman from the bar came over and placed two pints of ale in front of us. I reached into my pocket to find (or conjure up) some money, but she waved my hand away saying, “Don’t you worry about that, we’ll sort that out in the morning. I’ll be back with your meals in just a moment.”

After raising our mugs in a hearty-thunk of a toast, the Magician replied to me, “People often react well in a crisis. But that’s not all you asked about. Do they always do so well?”

Fair point. What prompted my question was as much the discord we’ve seen over things like vaccines and pandemic mandates, or the increasingly extreme differences between political parties. Let alone the systemic bias some people suffer from daily.

“Okay,” I said, “what would you recommend?”

Which is when two plates of sausages and mashed potato, with a wedge of cooked tomato, got placed in front of us. Did I mention I can taste and smell in my journeys? And oh boy did they smell good!

As the Magician started digging into his meal, he waved around the room with his fork. “You see these people, all carousing together like long-lost friends? Most of them have never met before. Some of them might be bitter enemies elsewhere. But here, in this refuge from the cold, they play games, tell stories, share a meal. The kinds of things that bring people together.”

It was a lovely scene, these people just sharing the simple things in life together. But it still seemed too simplistic to me.

“Okay, I love that idea,” I said around a mouthful of mashed potatoes (don’t judge my table manners, it totally fit the vibe of the place). “But there’s some pretty crazy stuff happening in our world. Are you saying not to stand up for our beliefs?”

“It depends how. Fighting causes the other side to fight back harder,” he replied.

And suddenly I found myself in the middle of a huge protest, people yelling and shouting as we marched down a street. I could have been a protest over any number of things. But what I felt… was this raw, aggressive energy directed outwards at everyone else. It wasn’t pleasant.

And just as suddenly I was back in the lodge, with the woman from the bar putting two decadent, whip cream covered desserts in front of us. You’ll just have to trust me, they tasted great.

“Remember, the only thing you control in your life is your actions. And your reactions,” the Magician said as he dug into the dessert, getting whip cream all over his beard. “You can’t control what others do. Each of you, in your world, needs to pursue what you think of as right, while letting go of the need to prove to others that you are right. Or worse, trying to prove that they’re wrong.”

He went on to explain that if we ever wanted to have mature debates about our beliefs with other people, we first needed to build the foundation of ‘common humanity’, as he put it. The simple trust and respect that I was watching play out in the lodge. Treating people as friends even when we disagree with them.

“One more thing you should consider,” he said, “is that sometimes the most powerful tool you have may be to say nothing.”

I’ll admit, I struggled with this one. There are beliefs and causes that I hold dear to my heart. To say nothing about them… well that would seem like giving up. Failing the cause. And all the people I want to help.

The Magician let me sit with that for a minute, digesting the thoughts. And the food.

And then he said, “It’s not about saving the world. It’s about learning to be a better person in the world.”

Huh. I’m not sure about you, but for me that perspective is a radical shift in thinking. One I’m going to have to sit with for a while. And yet, deep down something feels very right about it…

As I sat, the woman from the bar came and cleared away our plates. And the Magician pulled out a pipe and lit it, smoke drifting everywhere. I must have looked shocked at someone smoking indoors, because he just said, “Don’t worry, it’s herbal.”

—

And that’s it. Unlike some of my journeys, I didn’t come away with a definitive answer this time. That may be because it was a pretty big question. But it did offer some good food (pun intended 😉) for thought. I hope it generates some interesting reflections for you after reading it.

Until next time!

Eric, your shamanic guide, into the unknown.

A friend of mine recently asked me a question – why do bad things happen to good people?

This is an age-old question that humanity has been wrestling with for a long time. Without any satisfactory answers. Some would argue that the difficult and painful moments in our lives are part of a grander plan that we can’t comprehend. Others would argue that it’s all random chance. And others that it’s karma (though my understanding is that’s an oversimplification of the concept).

Going into this journey I didn’t have any answers. Just a few rough ideas, based on things my guides have told me previously. And what I got… well, this one gets into some deep ‘nature of reality’ stuff. Have a read and see what you think.

—

As I opened my eyes onto non-ordinary reality, I found myself standing on a castle wall, looking out over snow-covered mountains. Grey clouds were hanging overhead with small pockets of blue sky peeking through.

This might sound dreary to some of you, but it’s my favourite place in non-ordinary reality. I call it the Frost Realm. The realm of clarity and focus. And from what I can tell, where my soul was created a long, long time ago.

I’m quite familiar with this castle too. It’s the home of my spirit guide the Frost King. I know, I know, not the most original title. But it conveys a lot of meaning to me. And I saw him standing a little further down the wall, waving for me to join him. He’s hard to miss, being my height (6’4”), his blueish skin offset by a fiery-orange beard and hair.

So I walked over and joined him leaning against the stone railing as we looked out over his domain.

“What can I do for you?” he asked me kindly.

“A friend of mine is hoping I can find out why bad things happen to good people.”

“Oh, that one,” he replied with a slight nod that said he understood the depth of the question. “Here, come with me,” he said, motioning for me to follow him along the wall to a nearby stone tower.

As we approached the tower another familiar figure walked out the door to greet us. The Mother Goddess – the first individuated consciousness that emerged at the dawn of time. And a mother-figure to every spirit being and mortal that’s come along since. But she’s quite down-to-earth, appearing to me as a woman in her early 40s with shoulder-length brown hair, wearing a comfortable cotton medieval dress. And she’s a fan of lattes. 😉

As we approached, the Frost King greeted her and gave a brief bow. Not of deference, but friendly respect. She smiled and clasped him on the shoulder before ushering us both into the small tower.

I walked into the dimly lit room, which was empty except for a stone dais about 5 feet across in the centre. As the Frost King and Mother Goddess both walked up to either side of me, a complex hologram flickered into place above the dais. And I mean complex!

A sphere was suspended in the centre, with what must’ve been trillions of dots in various orbits around it. I couldn’t possible ‘see’ that many dots, but I knew that was the scale of what was being represented. And lines connected the dots, forming all sorts of interconnected patterns too vast to really comprehend.

My guides told me that the sphere represents source consciousness (or whatever name you would like to apply to it), and the dots are every individuated consciousness in the universe. And remember, from a shamanic perspective, everything has some level of consciousness. Even a rock. So I’m definitely underestimating when I say trillions of dots.

The lines between all the dots reflect the complex web of relationships between everything and everyone. And I was filled with the understanding that the actions of one conscious being inherently have an impact on many, many others. Intentional or not.

This is at least part of the answer to the question. We’re incredibly interconnected. It’s not only our actions or behaviours (our goodness or lack thereof) that determines what happens to us in our lives. We are impacted by those around us, sometimes in indirect ways that we can’t perceive.

“But don’t confuse the patterns you’re seeing for a plan,” the Mother Goddess cautioned me.

I looked away from the hologram to find her focused gaze on me. And then she reminded me of something she’d told me several years ago.

“The source is conscious, but not in a way you understand. It’s almost like it’s dreaming us. And even we,” she said, referring to the various gods, goddesses, angels, and ancient spirit guides I’d met, “have never been able to discern a plan or purpose for existence.”

Building on that, the Frost King added, “All manner of experiences are playing out over time. Which means some beings will experience more hardship than others in any one lifetime. And not always a consequence of their actions and choices. Nobody is being judged.”

“But some people experience some truly horrible things,” I replied with a questioning tone, trying not to think too hard on some of the awful things that have happened, or continue to happen in the world.

“Yes,” the Frost King replied with a determined intensity in his voice, “and this is why it’s so important that each of you take responsibility for your actions in your world. For your thoughts and feelings. Each of you have the ability to make choices to support each other through tough times and painful experiences. You can’t prevent every bad thing from happening, but your choices can reduce suffering.”

“And even create joy for each other,” the Mother Goddess added. “Each of us is accountable for our behaviour. No one else.”

It’s hard to underscore how important this is. If there’s no cosmic accountability, its incumbent on each of us to take on that responsibility ourselves. Not accountability for the state of the whole world, but certainly for our personal contributions to it. And looking at the state of things right now, I think it’s fair to say that as a species we’re not doing that nearly enough. I know I’m not. Yet.

The Mother Goddess continued, “This is why we,” and I knew she was referring to all our compassionate spirit guides, “decided that pursuing the advancement of consciousness is the only meaningful purpose to our existence. Building the capacity of all beings to make self-aware, compassionate choices that will collectively reduce suffering.”

Given the web of interconnections in the hologram projected before us, this made sense. The more that each of us make compassionate choices, the fewer ‘bad things’ we’ll deliberately or accidentally impose on others.

Even then, I don’t expect that will eliminate painful experiences. Not at all. None of us will ever be perfect or be able to anticipate all the consequences of our choices. Not all painful experiences are the result of another person’s actions. And painful experiences are also sometimes powerful growth opportunities. Critical to create space for the self-awareness that builds empathy and compassion.

But wouldn’t be a wonderful thing if we could reduce the amount of suffering? Or at least be there fully for people when they need us?

I don’t know about you, but this was a lot for me to take in all at once!

I think my guides knew that too, each of them giving me a hug. The ultimate gesture of connectedness with each other in this vast, challenging cosmos. 💗

Then the Mother Goddess gave me a gentle push, my body turning into a wispy cloud, and I floated back to my body in ordinary reality.

—

Yeah, lots to ponder there. I don’t claim that this is the definitive answer to the question about why bad things happen to good people. You may have a different perspective based on your own experiences or beliefs.

But my guide’s message about the importance of being accountable for our own choices, about considering the impact of our actions on others, is something deeply important.

Until next time, 

Eric, your shamanic guide… into the unknown. 

Hi everyone! Rather than coming up with a specific question for this post, I thought I’d try something different and said to myself, “I’ll just go in and see what my guides want to tell me.”

Kinda like throwing spiritual spaghetti on the wall and seeing what sticks.

The results? Uhhh… I’ll let you judge for yourself, but the title will make sense at the end. And today’s journey picks up on several themes that emerged from one of my previous blog posts – Reconnecting with Joy. So that’s worth a look if you haven’t read it already.

Anyway, here’s what happened…

—

The instant I closed my eyes, I saw my spirit guide Green Dragon standing in front of me in his usual cartoony child-like form.

“You’re too serious,” he declared, and struck a heroic looking pose, arm outstretched.

Okay. I’m being generous. It looked more like that John Travolta pose from Saturday Night Fever. But I’m sure he was going for heroic.

And then the floor dropped out from underneath us. And we fell. One of these days I’m going to do a journey about why I fall through so. Many. Trap. Doors!

To his credit, Green Dragon held his silly pose the whole way down. While grinning. No doubt because I was spinning wildly out of control the whole time. Slamming repeatedly into the walls of the massive tunnel. Dignity? Overrated. Apparently.

So I was grateful when I did a belly-flop into the ground at terminal velocity.

But it’s a shamanic journey, so that’s about as dangerous as it ever was to Wile E. Coyote. I stood up, brushing off my red coat as Green Dragon came in for a perfect landing, Travolta style.

Then it got weird.

The bottom of the tunnel opened into a big room carved out of dark stone. With big blocky windows carved into the walls, looking out onto a bright blue sky. But that wasn’t the weird part. Remember the Disney pink elephants? Apparently from Dumbo, according to The Great Google.

Well, over a dozen of those pink elephants started marching through the chamber, banging on huge shamanic drums as they passed us. Then there was the heavy-set Valkyrie, singing opera. Trying to hit the highest notes you have ever heard! And then a rabbit flew lazily through the air.

Note to self – this is what happens when you start a journey without a clear question.

Green Dragon grabbed my elbow (he’s only half my height) and dragged me as fast as he could to a set of stairs along one of the walls. We scrambled up and onto a causeway overlooking the chaos.

“What the heck is all that about?!” I exclaimed.

“That?” he said, looking down, then back up at me. “That’s what your brain looks like on an average day. It’s insane!”

He did add that most people’s brains look like that. Full of non-stop, frantic activity. Most of it not that useful from the look of things…

I peered over the other side of the causeway and was surprised to see a totally different scene. Me, lying on a floating air mattress in the water, wearing the loudest Hawaiian shorts you’ve ever seen. With the shadows of a bunch of sharks swimming below me.

“Jump in the water!” Green Dragon yelled at me, as he leapt off the causeway.

Uhhh, sharks? Whatever. I jumped off the causeway, splashing into the water and sinking a few feet below the surface.

Which the sharks noticed. I’ve very rarely been scared in a journey, especially one led by a compassionate spirit guide. But let me tell you, seeing a bunch of 10-foot Bull Sharks surrounding you, snapping their jaws just inches from your face. That is scary!

With a blast of force from my hands, I propelled myself out of the water onto the (now empty) air mattress. Green Dragon was just a second behind me, landing on the foot of the mattress.

“And that??!” I asked, catching my breath.

“Those were your self-critical thoughts,” he replied, as if were obvious. And I suppose it was in retrospect.

“Okay,” I said, “but other than the human mind being a crazy place, what’s the point of this journey???”

Keeping in mind (pun intended) I had only myself to blame for getting into this mess.

Green Dragon waved his hands around, and I saw our environment had changed again. We were still on the water, but now we were in the middle of the ocean. No room, no causeway, and thankfully no sharks. We were just floating in the middle of the wide-open ocean on a calm, sunny day.

And we weren’t on an air mattress. We were in a small wooden boat with a rudimentary sail.

“Check the name,” Green Dragon said to me with a friendly wink.

So I leaned over the back of the boat and checked the name plate.

Lookfar

Oh. My. God.

If you’re not familiar with Ursula Le Guin’s Earthsea books, that name won’t mean anything. But if you are… it’s the boat the wizard Ged uses to traverse the world across multiple books. For me, Ged is the ultimate role model of what a wise wizard / magician should be (even more than characters like Gandalf). He learns his lessons the hard way at first. But he becomes a compassionate teacher who knows when to lead, and when to follow so he can enable others to reach their full potential.

So being on a spiritual version of his boat was quite an honour.

“You need to let the cosmic ocean take you where it will,” Green Dragon said softly. “You humans keep trying to force yourselves down whatever path you think is right. But you’ll never be happy that way. Let the current take you. It knows where you need to go. Better than you do.”

Green Dragon explained to me that the human brain, and its ability to solve problems, was only intended for occasional use. But we use it almost constantly in our society.

“It’s like if you were walking down a hallway. You can just walk. It’s a hallway. You don’t need to overthink it.” Green Dragon said, pointing at his head. “But if you came to a locked door? Then you could use your brain to figure out how to open it. And then keep walking.”

I thought back to the start of my previous journey about Reconnecting with Joy, and how it started with the spirit guide Ms. Fuck It Bucket 🦄 pouring a bucket of cold water over my head because my brain was overheating.

Green Dragon explained that the more we become calm and grounded, and observe our thoughts rather than react to them, the more we’ll be able to discern the doors from the hallways in our life. The best argument for mindfulness meditation I’ve heard yet.

“Right now you people see everything as a door,” he said, somewhat disapprovingly. I couldn’t argue with him. But that also means there’s an exciting opportunity for all of us to see more hallways, and rest into walking down them. Experiencing them as we go.

And so, I settled down beside Green Dragon in Lookfar, and we let the current of the cosmic ocean carry us wherever we needed to go.

It was quite peaceful.

Until Green Dragon started singing. Loudly.

All part of the hallway. 😉

—

Yeah, so, that happened. If you stuck through it with me, I hope you found some useful nuggets there. And a laugh or two. I know I did.

Until next time,

Eric, your shamanic guide… into the unknown.

Hello everyone! For this post, a friend gave me the following question to journey on: 

“Given all the sadness in the world, how do we reconnect with our inner joy?” 

I’ve discovered that while I’m journeying on someone’s behalf, I’m connected with them. And that influences the nature of my journeys. 

So you’re in for a treat this week, because this means we have a special guest star! My friend’s pink unicorn spirit guide, Ms. Fuck It Bucket 🦄 (there’s always a unicorn emoji after her name – it’s a thing). Remember that everything in a journey is also a metaphor, and everything about Ms. Fuck It Bucket 🦄, including her name, speaks volumes.

Without further ado, here’s the journey. Enjoy!

—

I settled myself in my basement studio, focusing my intention on my friend’s question about reconnecting with joy. I opened my eyes onto the non-ordinary reality version of my studio…

… just in time to see Ms. Fuck It Bucket 🦄 pour a bucket of icy cold water over my head!

“What was that for!” I spluttered, feeling the cold water role down my back.

Ms. Fuck It Bucket 🦄 dropped the bucket she’d been holding between her teeth and simply said, “Your brain was overheating. You think too much.”

Yeah, okay, guilty as charged. And I can vouch that overthinking things – because we’re usually overthinking ‘problems’ – is a good way to get disconnected from our inner joy.

But let’s be honest, there’s also a child-like joy in dumping water on people’s unsuspecting heads.

I stood, shaking the water out of my hair, when Ms. Fuck It Bucket 🦄 exclaimed, “I can do that!” She pulled a massive industrial hair dryer out of… you know, I don’t want to know where… and blasted me in the face with it! And I do mean blasted. My hair was bone dry in less than a second, and matted straight backwards from the sheer force. Good look. Not.

A woman chuckled behind me, and I turned to see my spirit guide Spruce leaning against the far wall. “I figured I should come along,” she said. “Someone has to keep the two of you out of trouble.”

I explained to her that I was exploring how we can reconnect with joy, and Spruce smiled while snapping her fingers. Opening up a trap door right under myself and Ms. Fuck It Bucket. 🦄 And down we went!

I’ve been getting a lot of trap doors in my journeys. Almost every friggin’ one these days. Apparently they symbolize accessing hidden knowledge. But part of me thinks my guides just like pranking me.

So, I crossed my arms and let myself fall. Until I realized something. I’d fallen first. Ms. Fuck It Bucket 🦄 was above me. Oh crap.

I looked up and saw her scrabbling with her hooves at the sides of the tunnel as we fell, rapidly yelling, “Trying to stop! Trying to stop! Trying to stop!”

Looking down I saw the ground rushing up towards me, and I slammed down feet first. Ms. Fuck It Bucket 🦄 plummeting straight towards me!

Piledriver.

Spruce floated gently down after us as Ms. Fuck It Bucket 🦄 staggered back to her feet. Me? Well, at least my upper head and nose were still out of the mud. After a brief struggle, the two of them managed to pull me out of the ground.

I must’ve looked like a disaster – covered in mud, hair blasted backwards… and it struck me that this was also part of the answer on how to reconnect with joy. Not caring what I looked like, or how I was presenting myself. I looked how I looked in the moment. I was who I was, mud and all.

So I didn’t bother trying to clean up as Spruce led us from the base of the tunnel to a busy city street. One of those transitions that just happen as naturally as breathing in a journey. We walked along the sidewalk as cars and trucks whizzed by. I couldn’t help but notice that Spruce looked completely calm despite all the noise and distractions. Mindfulness – another hint. 😉

Crossing the street, we came to a small plaza overlooking a larger plaza below. Which was filled with a community fair full of vendors and circus games. “Yes!” shouted Ms. Fuck It Bucket 🦄 as she raced down into the crowd. Spruce and I followed at a more sedate pace, looking at the different vendors. But I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure how this was answering the question. 

Spruce started to explain, but Ms. Fuck It Bucket 🦄 ran up to us wearing a dozen different necklaces around her neck and horn, including a couple of diamond ones. “What do you think?” she asked earnestly.

“I think,” I said jokingly, “if you catch the sun right, you could blind someone with those.”

“You’re right, too much,” she said as she shook her head and sent most of the necklaces flying. Then she darted into the crowd, calling back that she was off to find a cheeseburger. I laughed as I watched her go, thinking how she’s always snacking on something. But then I also thought, she wasn’t holding back.

I turned to Spruce, still feeling like I wasn’t getting the whole message from this journey. She snapped her fingers again, and suddenly we were on a darkened stage, black curtains all around us.

“Who are you performing for?” she asked, staring intently at me.

I stared back for a moment, unsure how to answer. But given the previous message about not worrying how I was presenting myself (mud, hair, etc.) I understood the deeper question. Who, and why, was I presenting myself a certain way to others. Why wasn’t I being myself? And that not being my true self would block me from fully accessing my inner joy.

Which is when Ms. Fuck It Bucket 🦄 poked her head through the curtains. “What are you guys doing in here? It’s boring. The party’s out there,” she said, gesturing with her head behind the curtains.

But she walked in to join us. With a knowing look on her face, Spruce asked Ms. Fuck It Bucket 🦄 the same question. “Who are you performing for?”

Ms. Fuck It Bucket 🦄 just stared at her for a second before saying, “I don’t understand the question.”

Spruce cracked a wide smile, and I was filled with a sudden ‘knowing’. It wasn’t that Ms. Fuck It Bucket 🦄 hadn’t understood the question. The premise of the question was completely meaningless to her. She wasn’t performing for anyone. She wasn’t trying to be anything other than who she was. And as I hope you’ve gotten a sense while reading this journey, she’s well connected to her inner joy.

As she trotted back out through the curtains, I contemplated the fact that I had understood the question. I’m not always being myself. I’m performing for someone.

I immediately looked out to the audience to see who I was metaphorically performing for. And I was really surprised to see a bunch of wooden dummies sitting in the chairs. None of them had any faces, clothes or distinguishing features whatsoever.

And then I had a realization that floored me. They were faceless because they were a blank canvas for me to project my own expectations onto. My own shadow fears and desires.

I am performing for my inner critic.

I remember cradling my real-world head in my hands while still in the journey. I know this isn’t a new concept, but experiencing it first-hand like that? I was stunned at the absurdity of it all. And the truth of it. I… most of us aren’t being our authentic selves because we’re trying to satisfy this ever-critical task master.

And if we’re putting all that energy into performing for our inner critic, but still feel like we’re falling short of our own expectations, then we’re distracting (heck blinding!) ourselves to opportunities to connect with our inner joy.

Spruce didn’t offer any simple fixes to this challenge. But there are plenty of resources out there, like shadow work and coaching. And the more we see our inner critic and stop performing in an endless attempt to please it, the more we can start being ourselves. And I daresay stop taking ourselves so seriously. 😉

The more we do all of that, the more we’ll naturally find the joy in ourselves and the world around us.

I thanked Spruce for this bit of wisdom, and walked through the curtains in search of Ms. Fuck It Bucket. 🦄 And true to form, she’d found a 4-foot-tall tub of popcorn and was hauling it over to me.

“I’m glad I’ve got friends like you to learn from,” I said to her as she dipped her head into the tub.

“Me too, Magic Boy, me too,” I heard her say from under three layers of popcorn.

And, reflecting on the lessons of the day, I grabbed as big a handful of popcorn as I could and stuffed it in my mouth in one shot.

—

There you go! I hope you enjoyed reading this little adventure, and found the bits of wisdom useful.

Until next time,

Eric, your shamanic guide… into the unknown.