3.21.2009

Last Weekend in Bolinas: Wiping the Crust Off My Third Eye


Tacked to my wall is my best cookie fortune-- "You will experience endless love and total harmony at an affordable price." Correct-- it only cost $20 to put gas in the van and then off to the bird sanctuary with William and Kim, the shaman (shamen?) couple who, after becoming quite alarmed at the outcome of the tarot reading, insisted that I was in such dire need of a Native American-style spiritual healing ceremony that they'd do it for free. Walls are up, chakras are blocked...if someone doesn't help me then I'll have an extra hard time doing my life's work, which, evidently, is Spiritual Healer Teacher Nonprofiteer Animal Baby Women Helper. Ah! Perfect! I had been in the mood for a ritualistic cleansing. "Ask and you shall recieve," said Kim, who seemed to always be nodding sagely, threatening to dislodge one or more of the three floppy velveteen hats she was wearing. They implored me to call on my spirit guides. I breathed in the sea air and asked to anyone who might be listening, "please let me get something out of this." Soon afterward I'm lying down on their air mattress (I think they live in the van) as William puts me in a trance, all the while touching my head, hands, feet, or stomach in order to transfer his energy to me. In my head, I'm in the forest, gathering together my spirit animals, who all reveal themselves to me without much coaxing, and in this order: mountain lion, crow, eagle, deer, dove, otter. "They each have a message for you,"says William, who appears as a wolf, and they do. Me and this menagerie begin walking through the forest, confronting difficult people and hard times, which I am instructed to push in the roaring fire that appears behind each person. This proves to be exceedingly difficult, even with the pantheon of forest spirits, someone holding my hand, and a woman sitting in the passenger seat throwing positive intentions my way. When I confronted each person, I was crying and shaking. It took a long time to push them into the fire. When I did, I felt physically lighter. The tension in my shoulders that I've carried with me for as long as I can remember was gone. I felt wonderful. This happened again and again until the hour was up. William counted down from ten, and I awoke, feeling exhausted as though from laughter, and a little light-headed. They then suggested that they think it would be a good idea for me to come with them to Shasta to learn how to use my psychic abilities and become a healer like them. "Kim, explain to her what Shasta is." Kim turns around in the passenger seat, one of the hats obscuring her left eye, and says, with no vocal inflections whatsoever, "Shasta is a vortex between heaven and hell. I have a medicinal sage farm there. And 7 stores." I said I couldn't go right away, there was a fairly awkward parting, and then I skipped to the Coast Cafe to meet my worried friends for a night of hilarity.

The weirdest part of this experience was the gift basket Kim gave me. She must have been preparing it for me as I was shouting, "You aren't connected to my energy any more!" and convulsing. I didn't really look at it until the next morning. It was a wooden salad bowl filled with two bananas, an eggplant, a loaf of wheat bread, some potpourri, a wilted daisy and a gold bracelet of hippos.

I feel great and I can't believe that none of this is made up.
I am wearing the hippo bracelet.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Rachel, not to like give you a big head or anything, but when are you gonna publish?

Anonymous said...

What I'm trying to say here is complicated and difficult to get across, but how it boils down is basically that I really like reading David Sedaris, but I like reading Rachel Scott ever so much more.

Rachel S said...

Aww thanks, Brad. These comments made my day!

Anonymous said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anonymous said...

Nice iSight photo at the top of the post!

"No, no, don't get up. I'll let myself myself into the fire." -me, the wounded box turtle spirit animal, speaking through my stained glass saxophone

best wishes,
andy