My grandmother lived this way in the US as the first generation of her people to come here. When I was little I would spend many weeks with my grandmother and early in the morning a line would begin to form outside her house. People young and old standing on the sidewalk in front of her house in a downtown Polish section of immigrants. They carried with them fresh chickens and eggs, bread baskets and bags of corn, even whiskey and cigarettes. At 8 AM my uncle would open the front door and they would move into the little vestibule before the parlor. One by one they would come into the parlor and sit with my grandmother and be offered a tea. She would hug them and bid them to sit down and they would pour their hearts out to her about whatever was the matter with them. I would watch her listening with love and intention and also see her look away into blank space with a different kind of attention.
When they were finished she would tell them what they needed to do. Sometimes she would fetch an herbal preparation from her kitchen for them. Sometimes it seemed like just words but I know much more was going on than just words. Sometimes she would be so kind and gentle in her words and sometimes she would pretend to be angry and almost yell at certain people, mostly the stubborn ones. They would then give her whatever they brought but if they didn't bring anything it didn't matter.
She would do this day after day but her weekends were for her family. At night she would sit up after all had gone to sleep and sometimes I would hear her singing so quietly in the other room from where I slept and doing things that she was meant to do alone. I knew better than to go disturb her as it felt like such a holy time. I would lie in bed and just listen to her chanting or singing and moving about and feel the holiness that pervaded the whole house.
This is my memory from my earliest days. Sometimes she would let me help by inviting in the next person in the vestibule and allow me to listen from the next room. Many of these people spoke in Polish or Russian or Ukrainian. What they were talking about wouldn't make sense to me anyway. I never did learn her native language as she didn't want me to and instead wanted me to be proud to live in America as she was. But this is how my grandmother practiced. What she did in private was her own business.
She began to teach me when I was three about birds and plants and stones and Mother Earth. When I was five she called me into her parlor and asked me to lay my hands on a man who had bursitis or arthritis in his leg. I had no idea why she wanted me to do this but I did and apparently the man was healed.
She continued to teach me about the universal truths of Shamanism
All power comes from within.
Everything is relative and connected.
The Shaman’s world with its 3 planes, Upper, Middle, and lower is what you make it.
Effectiveness is the yardstick of ability.
Later when I went to study around the world I found these four truths in every culture and time frame. This realization that these were the common truths to all shamanic cultures really cemented my faith and trust in what my grandmother had taught me. These four truths are what I teach.
My grandmother and I had thousands of hours of talking and teaching. She connected me to my guides when I was 7 years old. I remember it well because she chose to do this for me at the time of my First Communion. My mother and father were strict Catholics and she sewed Shamanism and Catholicism together seamlessly for me, showing me that shamanism is not a religion and a Shaman can practice any religion or no religion as they choose.
My grandmother was also connected to my guides and so when they gave me a teaching I could not understand, I could go to her and get clarification in terms I could understand. In this way the guides taught me beyond my years. I was always dedicated, committed, determined to learn. For me it was my life blood, my path, my commitment and I knew it was my mission in life even when I first began to learn at age 3.
I believe that I have been a Shaman in many lifetimes. I believe that at some point so very long ago I agreed to be a shaman, I made an oath, a promise to be a shaman and that promise was not just for that lifetime but for all ensuing lifetimes. It was easy for me at age 3 to recognize this bond, this cord that connected me to shamanism for thousands of years. With that kind of knowledge in that young mind it was not hard to study and practice and strive to regain the knowledge.
Shamanism as taught by my grandmother is a path to walk, a lifelong path of learning and practice and work as we gain little by little and put it to use. It is also remembering that we are always children to Creator. That we cannot be a shaman without the humbleness and realization that we are but children in this great big unseen energetic world. That is why we have grandfathers and grandmothers and uncles and aunts all around us in the energetic planes who guide us and love us and help us in so many ways. I would not be without this help for one minute!
Maggie means child of light. It is symbolized by a pearl. So I guess that I too have lived my name.
Aho!
Shaman Elder Maggie
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