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| MULLEIN BLOSSOMS WRAPPED IN CHERRY LEAF
The cherry tree outside the front door of my apartment dropped a yellowed leaf in the winds two days ago. I brought it in and placed it on my two-legged stool, which forms the center of the Medicine Energies. The mullein plant on the walk also dropped some of its tiny blooms, so I placed them on the cherry leaf. I brought in some chamomile berry-blossoms, a rose from my morning walk, and energized the crystals with my wand. The next morning, the cherry leaf had curled up to enclose all the mullein blossoms.
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Monday, June 25, 2012
PART OF THE MEDICINE ENERGIES
YAKIMA GRAFFITI
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| ON MY WAY HOME...
It's just about exactly a mile from the coffee shop back to my apartment. I like to take the bus to the coffee shop, so that I can walk home, for the exercise. I used to walk both ways, but I guess I'm getting old. On the corner of 5th and D this group of buildings has just been boarded up, after having a series of tenants moving in and out in recent years. D Street in this block is now all boarded up, or bulldozed. The gangs are having a field day. The building at left was hit by arson a couple of years ago, Just after that, a man was gunned down by the police across the street. Yakima has the worst gang violence in Washington State.
One of the bulldozed lots has some new construction which began last week. That's a surprise, in this depression era.
The City of Yakima has seen cuts in its budget every year since I moved here, like most small towns across the country and the world.
I walk because that's the best way to protect what health I've managed to salvage from the years of abuse during my Initiation as a Shaman. I do yoga for the same reasons. Yakima is a sort of redneck city in the Red State half of Washington. Many people here, especially medical professionals, have a dim view of the Medicaid program. I've had to take charge of my own medical treatment in recent years, after developing allergies to medications, and a deep distrust of the people who dispense them.
Fortunately, the Medicine Energies I've built up in and around my apartment help me to remove dangerous influences I pick up from the people I meet. Being able to SEE, as a Shaman, has given me the power to know when some pernicious spirit has clung to me from the coffee shop.
The basement section of the coffee shop is frequented by the local Christian population, and the Soul-Stealer predators that feed on their foolish unknowing. I am not the only one who can SEE! These predators can see me, even better than I can see them. They often send harmful spirit energies to me. The walk helps to shake them off, and the yoga techniques when I get home, combined with Shamanic work, keeps me in decent shape. I often marvel at how so many people fool themselves into thinking a life without yoga can be in any way healthy!
If people could only see the auras of the people around them, and how gray they look from the medications they are addicted to. It's so much easier to pop a pill than to bend over and do yoga! Or to light up a sage smudge to cleanse the home. To be a good citizen is to take good care of yourself, first, and you do that by building the Medicine Energies in your home and environment.
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MARILYN MONROE 'ORB' FOTO
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| DAGAJI AT THE YOGA BAR
One of the most useful Shamanic Yoga 'props' is the Yoga Bar. I started with an imitation of the ballet barre installed around the walls of Marie Svoboda's studio in Seattle, where I studied yoga for ten years in the 1980s, until the onset of my Initiation as a Shaman in late 1990. I now use the utility table in my front room, which doubles for everything.
A year or so before this foto, Marilyn Monroe attacked me in the bedroom, where this canvas was hanging unpainted. She wanted a painting of her 'yoni', to hang above the bed. The red circle is her yoni. This canvas brings trouble wherever I hang it. So it mostly resides face to the wall in a storage area behind the door in the bedroom. I bring it out for special occasions. At this time we were working on a painting for Shakti. The girl in the foto is doing a Shakti dance.
I decided to set up the camera to see if I could get a foto of the Yoga Bar in use. Marilyn Monroe joined in as an Orb against the red circle. If you enlarge the foto, you can see that this orb is distinct from other orbs in that it has a concentric pattern inside the orb. I'll see if I can transfer this pattern to the canvas sometime. All my painting is done at the instigation of Marilyn Monroe, so you never know....
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Monday, June 18, 2012
WHAT HAPPENS IN A SHAMANIC HEALING?
WHAT HAPPENS AT A
SHAMANIC HEALING SESSION?
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| YOGA FLOOR |
Prepare to meet The
Medicine!
Before you come for your first
healing session, we meet for an intake interview. In this hour or so, we prepare you for opening into the
Medicine Energies of the Shamaland Studio.
The Medicine Energies are built
upon the energies of the Earth Energy Vortexes in and around the small
apartment. These energies are
spirit energies, and they have an intelligence of their own. The Shaman awakens these vortexes with
his transformed energy body, and the use of Shamanic Techniques of shifting and
enhancing the energies. Over the
years, these vortexes have become home to many helping spirits. Buddha lives here, and Aesclepios. The Brotherhood of the Magi live
here. Above all, my ‘ayami’
(spirit wife), Marilyn Monroe lives here.
Marilyn Monroe has many spirit helpers of her own. And above all that, I live here! This is Sacred Space.
In this space I undergo many
hours and days of self-healing before, during and after working on clients. Many of my clients are the Gods
themselves. One of my specialties
is to work my transformational techniques on various Gods, as they go through
the changes of evolving spirit entering this New Age.
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| GOLDEN SAGE |
I use a smudge of Golden
Sage blossoms harvested from the hills around Yakima to cleanse the space and
prepare the energies. There are
various altars to hold energies for specific purposes. The main space is the Yoga Floor in the
front room, just inside the front door.
It is covered with painted canvas mats so that I can use the floor for
yoga at any time, day or night.
One peculiarity of these mats is that the spirits of the vortexes love
them. Vortex spirits tend to bring
into their vortexes the things they like, just like people do. As the vortexes turn, left or right,
they bring the mats with them, until they crawl up the wall, or the
furniture. Beneath the main mat is
an electric blanket, so that the floor is warm and inviting even in the winter.
When a client enters, the space
has been prepared with meditation and various Medicine techniques. A straight-backed wooden chair is
placed in the center of the room, so the client can sit and be smudged with
sage smoke. The sage cleanses the
aura, while at the same time forming a bridge between the energies of the room
and the client, as the client’s energies open into the atmosphere.
The Shaman is watching for spirit
entities.
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| "BEGINNER" showing Auxiliary Spirits |
Each
client brings a unique set of spirits to the session. There are spirit guides, and there are ‘auxiliary spirits’,
or hitch-hikers—parasite spirits who feed on the energies of the client. These are the cause of many of the
maladies people bring with them.
Then there are the spirits of antiquity which are related to the earth
and/or the archetypal realms.
These form one of the matrices of the client’s physical/psychological
character. And there are the
spirits of many past lives, as well as spirits of others living in the client’s
household.
Each of these types of spirits
brings its own set of problems and circumstances. Most of them are resistant to healing. They are very territorial and
possessive!
At various times we use simple
yoga asanas to open the physical body and get the energies to begin to
circulate. Along with the asanas,
we use breathing techniques, to get the mind loosened up, and focused into the
physical body. This technique
helps to get the various spirits dispersed into the energy stream, instead of
clustering defensively within the personality of the client. I teach these techniques to each client. These techniques are just as important
as getting the oil changed in your car.
Breathing the mind throughout the body brings the healing prana to all
the organs, injuries, and tight spots, including the brain. These simple techniques by themselves
will heal many of the precipitating symptoms which bring clients to the doctor
or the Shaman.
Over time, with practice, these
techniques will enable the client to self-diagnose these symptoms, and identify
the causes. Each client will begin
to be able to rid the system of many nagging ailments, without medical
intervention.
If necessary, the client will lie
on the floor (bring a blanket) to receive various types of treatments. These range from bringing in helping
spirits and spirit guides, to driving out unwelcome parasites.
After this first session, we will
determine further treatments.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
POEMS FROM A SHAMANIC INITIATION
from “FLESH JOY PART II”
copyright 2012 Shaman Dagaji
INTRODUCTION
Flesh
Joy Part I consists of eleven sections composed through various quartz
crystals. The first three
sections, “Egypt”, “Lisa in Greece”, and “The Splitting”, were written
immediately prior to the onset of my Initiation as a Shaman, on Christmas Day,
1990. These poems were my personal
introduction to my Spirit Guides, various past lives, and certain themes
concerning my interactions with my spirits. After three decades of writing poetry in a transformational
mode, I considered Flesh Joy to be my ‘magnum opus’. It was composed in a style arrived at
after several months of work during that summer.
After
I had completed Flesh Joy, Part I, I was ready to move on to something
else. It had been a very intense
period in the most intense experience of my life. At a certain point, my spirits indicated we were going
to do Part II. I had the greatest
resistance to this. The entry for
February 25, 1992, reads, “I don’t have to do this anymore.”
Flesh
Joy I ended on December 22, 1991, capping almost a year of very intense
activity, working round the clock with my spirits. Poems in the ‘stepped line’ style continue through January,
with a poem through Nefertiti’s crystal involving Genghis Khan, and then in
February, I began using a crystal called “Clouds In Heaven.” A series of poems in regular prosody
builds to some poems from Jesus.
On
March 2, 1992, using the “Killer Channel” crystal, I wrote the first entry for
“May-Hee-Co!”, which didn’t make it to the typewriter, for some reason. The next day, I’m using the “Left
Channel” crystal, and then the “Right Channel” on alternating days, until April
14, the end of the section.
My
journals had not matured into much more than records of the I Ching, in those
days. They weren’t even called
journals. I had a poor regard for
people who kept journals at that time.
But I had seen the need to do something, so I have several notebooks full
of entries of various kinds before that.
On
March 9, 1992, I call the poem “Flesh Torment”.
I’ve
been trying to recall just why I had such a negative feeling about starting
Part II. It was just something I
did not want to do, but my guides insisted. The section following “May-Hee-Co!” deals with material from
the same two crystals, from “Montezuma’s spirit”. This section ends with the New Moon in May, the 3rd.
On
June 13, I am using the Record Keeper Crystal for a series of
pseudo-sonnets. These involve
living in Egypt, and the prototype for Jesus.
Then
the sonnets break up, and I’m asking Ascended Master Koot Hoomi for help with
the Record Keeper.
So
the discomfort I was feeling stems, I believe, from a deep inner knowledge of
this material, which I would rather not admit.
“May-Hee-Co!”
deals with the re-entry of Montezuma’s spirit into Mexico as a precursor to the
return of Quetzalcoatl, who is the God-Who-Unites-All-Gods. It is set in a fictional episode
involving members of my soul group.
By fictional, I mean it is a spirit contrivance. All this material is presented through
third-eye visions with the crystal pressed to my brow. The visions are fleeting. When I write, there is no possibility
of revision. There is no memory in
the third eye during this work.
Just like in a radio, or a computer, the crystal serves as a direct link
to spirit consciousness. I write
what I see, tempered by what I feel, in the style I’ve developed over the
years. The material is always a
surprise to me, and is in no way a part of my normal consciousness.
Jesus
has told me through many methods that he has re-incarnated countless times on
the planet since his death and resurrection. Apparently I am one of these re-incarnations. When I learned this, I also learned
that genetically, Jesus is now a part of every human on the planet. What I have done, I am guessing,
through my work over the years, is to awaken that part of my DNA which is
Jesus. As the original Jesus was
“God in the flesh”, so now is every person. They need only to awaken that “Kingdom of Heaven” which is
within, to realize this. As near
as I can tell, this is the secret of Quetzalcoatl. The God-Who-Unites-All-Gods now resides in each of us.
In
1992, I wanted no part of this scenario.
Now, in 2006, all I want is to get the work out and move on with my
life! The intervening years have
indeed been a torment. But I
believe that the world I have discovered is relevant in ways I can’t even
imagine. So this is a part of my
contribution, for what it’s worth.
April 22, 2006
(Earth Day)
Yakima, Washington
SECTION THREE
“MAY-HEE-CO!”
3.2.92-4.14.92
only one moon
full and bright
in deep black space
receding
one fire
yellow and orange
licking the
lower portion
of the sky
whittlings curl off the stick
vanish to
ash
dawn peeks
over the hills
the stick is very short now
* * *
commitment
you’ve got
to have commitment
to drag yourself
back through the weeds of the unknown
to where you might never have been
guided by blue lights
become the black zombie
in scenes
you’d rather forget
they damn you so
she was such a beauty
cartridge belts
across her breasts
her face through eons
lost in the deep green and blue
first a finger
pokes through
between colors
the reds gush through
floods of orange
a
rush of filth
* * *
contempt of the stars
they
spit
on what I have done
on my pride
the ashes
of my ruined self
the deep
broad black
undergarment
of life
black bag
the drowned cat
words
ambiguous
intent
crawl from
rocks
chiggers and ticks
my naked
flesh
staked to
the clay
beetles
inside my blisters
she pours water
over my loins
it burns
* * *
the eyes behind the darkness
one eye here
one
eye there
they watch
is that a blue skirt?
a
woman
bending over
reaching into the back of a wagon
something has rolled forward
away from the tailgate
I think it must be a skull
or a black bag
concealing a
rifle
several rifles in a bedroll
take this life
I no longer
live it
* * *
indigo
indigo and violet
whirlwinds
spontaneous vortexes
with
one voice
a siren
what happened to the well
its
mouth broken
caved in
asshole in brown
dry dirt
the
shadow of the cliff
shrunk to the shrubs
they stuffed up the well
we’ve been wiped out
* * *
I pray some prayers
for
what I’ve been through
to
come to this
wide open
straight as a blade
without
prejudice
as to gender
the high sun
yellow in
its all-white sky
a cave for
shade
I live with spirits
* * *
electric blue beads
highlight the headband
the
headman’s halo
where’d his face go?
embroidered loincloth
red at the edges
a lion in black
head of a spear
moonshaped diamond
fire eyes
he is pointing
his left hand
points at me
* * *
you don’t have to go very high
to be right up out of your body
it just seems that way
a row of very sharp teeth
to decorate an
awning
glint in
the sunlight
huge flapping wings
won’t
let me see
I slide down
a row of glistening totems
green outlines in blackness
a place to walk on
a crow hops by to guide me
* * *
helicopters
couldn’t get this high
stay so long in place
so close to the cliff
I see the patterns
the molecules make
as they form
ethers
molecular light
I see spiral lines
they are the railroad
Time takes
from here to there
they are the transpersonal
chakras
opening
into
the deep self
the self that rises
from the Black Ray
beneath guilt
I
no longer know myself
I am
the axe that bleeds
I am a woman
let neither hope
nor fear
determine my fate
* * *
guns blazing
suicide in
the streets
bodies rushing
in front of bullets
it is the
children
nowhere to go
it is my blood time
I
have torn my skirt
for the blood
in the sun high
blue sky
I see no hope
huge dogs
fight in the
clouds
beyond the mountains
* * *
concentrate
closed to the world
focus
turn inward
the eyes close
thought
retreats
a pussy opens
enter
scenes
of the world
appear and disappear
rifles stacked in the pews
we are
eating
watching
through the windows
one child lies in the street
he has black hair
his face is gone
caught looking
we seem to be rootless
* * *
it is so exhilarating
the greenapple leaves
just budding
out
above the white blossoms
the
season of breeding
I am an adobe wall
soaking up the sun
after the black
cold
my espaliered façade
is
shielded by new growth
where wasps
fly to and from their nests
formed in my bullet holes
there are boards on my windows
* * *
in raja yoga
the two halves
of the
androgynous self
separate into their modes
of male
and female
and fuck each other
that’s God
attainment
the blackness inside
is alive
with imagery
it swims
a shark with flashing smile
thick brown boards
form the table
it will last
forever
but the bread
will
be gone today
we
don’t care
we have bound each
our
wrists
with leather
the five of us
in this pure consciousness
I
cannot decide
which one is I
* * *
if I could draw a horse
I could ride through this wall
the worst is fear of course
of
dirt so thick it swims
it glues the light like lime
I breathe
I breathe the light
I am an arrow
I am a heart pierced
I
am fallen Lisa
there used to be six
* * *
organize your soul for departure
the pipe organ sounds its alarums
to see Lisa watching
she is
always overseeing
she cannot act
lifetime after lifetime of struggle
I am ego
Lisa sees through my eyes
I
am damned
how will she see?
I have killed some people in the bank
she does not like this
I enjoyed it
the pop of the blood
the
ghost
screaming above their heads
my
delight
is
to act
the slug
slamming its lead into flesh
* * *
it feels like feathers
stuck in a
headband
causal chakra
back of the skull
a sun disc
punctuated with
bindu
clinks in a slot
my embroidered black vest
has roses
surrounded by white thread
I chew a skinny cigar
I bluff
behind a full house
Queens over
Aces
the table is full
the chairs are empty
* * *
the eye in the web
clouds pass
light sprinkles of sun
Time’s arrow
cling to it
at this
level
go with it
heart speed
thunk in the straw
the clay soil is hard
my hands are
scarred
I am
very poor
the well is dead
the water from the stream
will never last
* * *
think thank thunk
I am the town
drunk
on one knee
dependent on thee
“I don’t think he can
ever make it”
Lisa
looking out the window
the cabin hangs down
beneath the body of the vehicle
so large you could never see it
* * *
sombrero
slightly askew
eyes glazed
I have just seen her spirit
sent to another time zone
she who boiled me
whom I came to love
whatever I have left
I have
lost that too
no place
to go
the others
they have lost everything too
but they have found places
none of them near here
* * *
arid
I feel arid today
it’s a word for thirsty
but I am not dry
I am waiting
like the land
thunderstorms brewing somewhere
like the plants
green waiting beneath grey
I can see the jungles from here
leafpulp
lush with liquid
blossoms aquiver with juice
I am between sexes
beyond love
I am root
there is only this one place
we will begin again here
* * *
it’s bliss
to be this close to oneself
everything is love
it starts here
before all else
how dull
one needs a goal
* * *
blank out
from deep space
my mind
begins to focus
I is large
Other
is
tiny and far distant
the center
of many rays
a beautiful
feminine
eye
its wink
shocks me open
a face begins to form
judo karate kung-fu
many
fighters
calligraphy of figures
recedes across a gulf
forming
a bridge
* * *
a Pegasus
horse with
wings
white
horse
brings us together
from his wing
this feather
I am your father
we shall know the future
“May-hee-co!
Ai-ee-ya!”
* * *
I am a stupa formed from flame
there are clouds
about my brain
vast heavens of clouds
behind them
blue sky
one eye
from here
the movies of
times past
run
fast forward
into the future
the Eagle
can take me there
2010
single again
* * *
staring at the eye of self-knowledge
the
infinity
behind its pupil
begins to breathe
I am
the
pyramidion
I see
in all directions
I see
the pyramid
truncated
to receive me
vines and jungles
stone statues
people
going about their business
* * *
I don’t know
must
be the North Pole
I see
snow
whirling in a vortex
a
blue post
red
cap
blurred by the whirl
sinking
it is a square base
packed
brown dirt
atop stacked stone
I touch down
two
toes
nothing stops me
I have no body
I can dance here
dance my lone light
* * *
a whirling sundisc
forms
from nothingness
it
has my name
I stand Aztec
hunter
posture
erection
and fangs
sun disc shines
through my lizard eyes
burning jungle
burning cactus
burning the sea
I can walk
but with
my wings
why should I?
the people
to let
the people touch me
* * *
blossoms
bursting forth
from the tips
of cactus
lightning
inside the cathedrals
of
clouds
the heavens
blackness
bursting with light
each of the pyramids
has
been penetrated
our coming together
will
be remembered
* * *
“Oh God please love me”
a black
lotus
opens and closes
opens and closes
turns to a sun
an eye
silhouette of bluebird
surrounding me with storms
I am alone
rooted
atop this pyramid
I am a wheel
revolving
in all directions
crushing everything
in the light before the thunder
when the hills
pink and green
weep with sunlight
I see the rain washing cities clean
above the wild grasses
* * *
heaven boils
its yellow
and black lights
propel
time
in and out through my heart
bending the grasses
a stone chariot
leans into the wind
bringing
Lisa
she is the barebreasted
virgin who conquers
* * *
a tapestry of deerprints
magenta yellow
the deer
gallop into deep space
silvery pale
looking back
silver antlers gleaming
the bell
the bell
splits time with its
tolling
chevrons chipped from stone
adorned with feathers
a wheel
a shield
tip of each feather
nipped to a
“V”
I am the center of this shield
where the cross is
the
grip
you have seen me before
outlined in
blue
my quiver is filled
one
of the arrows
is for you
* * *
a whole field of forget-me-nots
sky blue
bright
yellow
interspersed with asters
a hillside of balsam
yellow dots
emanating
green
the healer’s balm
a fleur de lys
engraved
on diamond
deeper and deeper
as deep as we see
red sparkles
yellow
spirals
blue
boings
boinging
a great lake
frozen still
salt about the edges
Montezuma’s
spirit rises
above the surface
coffee brown
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