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A Child as the Shaman

In the eyes of the little ones the illusion of time reveals itself. The clear, pure field of existence, the formless, shines in the dark mid-point of their twilight eyes. In these sacred spaces, I laugh and play with my little nephew, the Shaman King. It is here where I remember the wings of my ancestors, in a place where light and darkness are one. It is my primordial home, my heart in its purest form, where the "I" dissolves into brilliant colors and flowing sounds.

The Shaman King is an elegant, mischievous and comical voyager who weaves in and out of realms unknown with his Play-doh at hand, pointing at everyone he meets, telling them they are “Calato!”—naked!). Like him, most children are skilled at navigating through the chambers and doorways of this multidimensional cosmos. As a result of their young age, they are free from the burdens of tradition and collective programming and can thus invoke the formless state with greater fluidity and skill than adults. In their openness, simplicity and pure joy they become vessels for the ancient ones. Children carry in their sounds, in their movements, in their sacred play the consciousness of the "Great Void" expressed in the teachings of the Zen masters, the Toltecs, Harpo Marx and the beloved Three Stooges.

These little ones are precious teachers of the sacred path and gatekeepers to the other worlds. I remember holding my nine-month-old niece, Phoenix, in my arms one day. She called to me without words in the Old way and intuitively I turned and looked into her eyes. Her pupils dilated and shining through those dark centers, I saw a sentient light. The space around me became like water—bright, clear and ever-flowing; this is the doorway, the transition state. As we entered the temple or the chamber, a white, smoky light filled the room. My third eye opened and the Dreamer awoke. In her innocence, she witnessed no division, and in that eternal moment, I was in the presence of God.

There are many ways I speak to my Holy Guardian Angel. Great Spirit, in her beauty and splendor, bestows upon all of us sacred instruments and channels to commune with her. My favorite conduits are the Shamanking, Phoenix, and my youngest nephew, San Mateo the Rainbow Walker, only newborn, yet a Zen master of the highest caliber. In their presence, I remember myself as the eternal child of the Formless One. They are my little magicians, playing with creation, laughing with the angels, dancing with the gods.

If ever one wishes to speak to their Holy Guardian Angel, look into the eyes of a child or whisper a message in their ear as they sleep. In that moment you will recognize something that is not ordinary. The space will shift and although it may look the same to you, something will be different. Learn to be present in those moments, and the natural state of our existence will unfold for you.

The key is in the recognition of the transition states, the spaces in between sound and light. Watch the little ones! They know how to dance to the empty spaces. They hear the rhythms of our feathered-ancestors, and in their play, in their laughter, in the darkest point of their bright, twilight eyes the Beloved can be found.

 Star Water

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