I Am Not A Musician

I AM NOT A MUSICIAN.

…or so I keep telling myself, but my relationship to music and the way it manifests through me seems to be up for reconsideration.

I love to sing. My voice has always been my chosen musical medium, and other than my ceremonial hand drum, I have only ever played an instrument with the intention of providing a background for song to pour through me. Over the last several years as I stepped more fully into the practice of channeling healing songs during my energy work, what began as a few hesitant notes and chants eventually grew in fluency and fluidity. They now flow effortlessly in a cascade of moving energy to support nurturing, catharsis, activation, clearing and death. The healing songs I bring forth have given a voice to the grief, joy, innocence, pain, sweetness, rage and love of my clients (and of myself). Sometimes these songs have words, but mostly they consist of a blend of syllables and tones that provide some semblance of structure to an otherwise formless melody. While there might be similar themes, most of the songs are completely new in the moment and leave my consciousness as soon as they pour out of my throat. One or two, however, have come through so often and so strongly that I know them as allies that are here to stay and can call upon them consciously.

So, you might ask, what is it that has me meditating on the medicine of music? Let me take you through some standout events of the past week.

Last Friday, I attended a gong meditation and sound healing bath. I absolutely love these events and always go deep with the sound healing, and this was no exception. Despite the volume and intensity of the gong, I fell asleep, as I do when receiving deep healing. When I awoke near the end of the event, I suddenly heard a chorus of flutes within the shimmering tones of the gong. I listened, transfixed, and perceived the melodies of the ancestors making their way through the gong vibration. I felt my body respond with subtle shifts and releases as the sound of flutes intensified.

The next evening, I went to the closing ceremony of Sun Gate studio. In addition to the beautiful community container and celebration of the space, this wonderful event featured some amazing live music. As I drank in the deep heart songs, I heard that same chorus of ancestral flutes! Someone there was playing the flute, but what came through was much richer and more ancient than a single instrument and I knew that the ancestors were making their presence known. Later in the evening as other musicians shared their medicine, I experienced similar sensations of seeing/knowing/feeling the space from which they were channeling, and feeling that intimate connection with my own version of bringing forth healing songs.

Also at this event, I ran into a friend of mine whom I hadn’t seen in a while. He is a wonderful cellist, and we have enjoyed the occasional singing and playing together. He asked me, “Michelle, when are we going to make some music together?” I told him I don’t play an instrument, and he said “Well yeah, I know, but you sing.” I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I do remember the feelings of resistance and shame and shyness that rushed through me, because after all, I’m not a musician and would have nothing to offer.

Fast forward a couple of days to a conversation with a friend. I don’t remember how the conversation arrived at this point, but he said something to the effect of “You’re going to sing during your speech” (meaning the speech that I gave yesterday at Embrace Festival) and my reaction was along the lines of “Haha, yeah right. I’m not a musician.”

The conference began on Friday, and the very first speaker was a woman from Australia who captivated me with her heartfelt talk on nonviolent direct action… and the pieces of songs of Australian First People that she wove into her talk.

Yesterday, I gave my speech at the conference, and as my friend predicted, I sang onstage. It was entirely unplanned, but as I gave my talk, I realized that I was actually offering a group healing session to the audience. In typical fashion, a healing song poured out of me. That was the first time I had ever sung a healing song in any kind of public context—a fact that didn’t register with me until just now.

Last night, I received some more deep medicine of powerful heart music during the Embrace Festival closing ceremony. I enjoyed every musical offering, but hearing Peia and the profound ancestral magic that poured out of her left me dissolving and raw.

…oh, and yesterday, a friend with whom I haven’t spoken in several months got in touch out of the blue to ask if I wanted to buy her ukulele.

…and the woman from Australia, after hearing me sing a healing song during my talk, said she wanted to give me some songs, so we sang magic together as we walked through the streets of downtown Portland.

I don’t really need to be a “musician.” I don’t even know what that means. But I do think my relationship to song and the way in which I share it with the world is up for reexamination. I know I cracked at least a few people open from giving my talk, and song medicine was a part of that. Given my philosophy on radical transparency (the reason I publish all the personal musings), if anyone anywhere could benefit even a little bit from me sharing a story, no matter how vulnerable, then I share it. I think the same goes for song. I have no idea what that looks like moving forward, but I will hold space for it to manifest in its perfect space and time.

Words—my normal, comfortable means of communication and a significant component of my medicine—seem to be failing me at the moment. The same thing happened repeatedly last week whenever the music cracked me wide open (as it did a few times) and I was left trying to communicate that which exists beyond words. Better quit while I’m ahead and leave it to a song for another time.

Intuitive Super Powers

What are some aspects of your intuition that you would like to cultivate?

Seriously, please share :)

A couple of years ago, I came across an old journal of mine from when I was about 13 years old. When I opened it to reminisce, I saw that the first page contained a list I had written, detailing the super powers that I wanted to have. I had organized them into categories and made notes about the possible combinations of these super powers and how they might inform and support each other. Here is the list:
ANIMALS
-Being able to talk to them
-Take on an animal shape
PLANTS
-Making medicine/using them for healing
-Helping them grow
PEOPLE
-Reading minds/telepathy
-Healing
-Giving energy
OTHER
-Flying
-Time travel
-Seeing future (drawings, poems, songs, visions, dreams, other methods of divination)
-Communicating with other worlds

The fact that I wrote this list as a 13 year old (and more importantly, the fact that I now practice most of these, and many more) blows my mind. From a fairly young age, I had a clearly defined idea of the “super powers” that I wanted to cultivate, most of them related to developing my intuition. Over the intervening years, I forgot about this list, but I somehow ended up finding the appropriate circumstances, teachers and guides to help me awaken these intuitive abilities.

So I invite you to consider what super powers you have always wanted to cultivate. What intuitive abilities do you wish you could awaken? Maybe your psychic vision is very clear—would you like to grow your clairaudience as well?

Please share--I am genuinely curious! And if you feel called, please join me on Sunday, March 26, for my workshop on Sensory Intuition. Register here.

Your Intuitive Birthright

“Wow, you are so intuitive! You must have just been born with that ability.”

I regularly hear some variation of this comment from clients, students or people who get a taste of my work for the first time. My answer usually begins with, “Well, yes and no…”

We are all highly intuitive beings. Each one of us was born with the ability to access this innate knowing.

When you first entered the world as a tiny human, you arrived with no filters in place. You experienced everything as a clear channel. Completely open to all sensory input, you made no distinction between how this information came into your awareness. Touch, emotion, sight, thoughts, taste, energy, sound, vibration… you experienced them all without any preconceived notion of what was “real,” or any hierarchy of some senses being more valid than others.

As you grew older, you started to become aware of how you received information, and maybe felt that you “weren’t normal.” Maybe your family was afraid when you told them that you saw beings that “weren’t there,” or when they found you having conversations with thin air. Maybe your sensitivities were dismissed as invalid, or no one believed you when you shared what you intuitively knew to be true. Maybe you were diagnosed with anxiety, or ADD/ADHD, or some mental health condition. Maybe you were medicated.

You still felt the vibrations and were sensitive to the thoughts and energies of other people, but without the consistent validation from those around you, you began to let this intuitive awareness fade into the background. You built your understanding of the “real world” based on the commonly understood five senses. You allowed yourself to become numb to your intuition.

But these hidden parts of ourselves don’t always stay quiet in the background. Maybe you always knew that this innate sense was still there, waiting to be revealed. Do you find yourself knowing things that you couldn’t possibly know? Are you seeing, feeling and sensing things you can’t otherwise explain?

Is your intuition waking up and demanding that you claim that which has been yours since birth?

Join us for the ongoing Sensory Intuition class series (first class takes place on Sunday, March 26th) and learn tools and techniques to reawaken your innate intuitive abilities. Now is the time to cultivate the knowledge and skill to easily and gracefully access your inner wisdom. There are no prerequisites for this class, and all levels of energetic experience are welcome. Whether this is your first foray into the magic of your intuition, or whether you have been a professional psychic for years, there is something for you in this class series to further grow and refine your abilities. Register now to reserve your space.

The Door of Awakening

AWAKENING is the door you don’t notice until you’re ready.

It’s the door that’s always been there, unobtrusive, in the wall that you walk past a hundred times a day without ever registering its presence. Maybe you’re too busy. Maybe you’re preoccupied with your job, your family, your finances, your everyday life. But still, the door to your Awakening has always been there, waiting for you.

One day, you walk by the door and notice it for the first time. You’re suddenly startled, because you’ve passed this wall a thousand times and could have sworn there was nothing there! As you gaze in wonder and disbelief at this revelation of a door, the edges start to glow from the blinding light on the other side.

You have a choice. Here on the Earth plane, we all have the same choice. Are you going to open the door and walk through it, or go back to pretending the door was never there?

What if you choose not to open the door? Maybe you go back to your life and forget all about it, but the door still appears in the space between dreaming and wakefulness. Maybe you try to avoid that section of wall, but always find your steps leading you back to pause in front of the door-that-isn’t-there. Maybe you work so hard to numb yourself to its existence that you numb yourself to all things—your feelings, your family, your dreams, the essence of your joy…

But what if you did choose to open the door? What if, blinded by that omnipresent glow, not knowing what would happen, you stepped through anyway?

What if you claimed your AWAKENING?

What might you discover about yourself? What deep soul purpose would reveal itself to you? How might you come into remembering of who you truly are, and activate within you your own, infinite potential and vibrant nature?

There’s only one way to find out.

One Client's Amazing Healing

I love witnessing my clients as they make amazing shifts in all areas of their lives! I checked in with one client today who, before we started working together, was feeling stuck—stuck in an unfulfilling job, stuck with friends and acquaintances with whom she no longer had anything in common, stuck in a place of less-than-optimum health and stuck in a mundane daily routine that zapped her of any drive and energy. She contacted me several months ago after she came across a book on Shamanism, and she described the feeling as though a fire was lit inside of her. She knew that her health, her marriage and her life force energy were all suffering and she needed help to “get unstuck” and reconnect with her joy and sense of purpose.

Even though she was motivated to make some changes in her life, she was very afraid of upsetting the status quo (especially in her work and in her marriage). What if these life changes made her stick out even more at work and she lost her job? What if, by stepping into her personal power, she alienated her husband? What if she lost everything?

A few weeks ago, we completed our three months of working together in my Deep Medicine Path program, and watching her transformation has been absolutely extraordinary. Instead of losing her job, she decided to proactively phase herself out of her unfulfilling line of work at her own, gentle pace. She is in the process of beginning her own life coaching practice so she can inspire and empower others. Instead of losing her marriage and feeling alienated from her husband, their relationship finally has that spark of new life! He has loved witnessing her changes and gladly stepped up in full support of her transformation. Instead of feeling drained and tired all the time, she now has energy to devote to her own health and well-being and her body “hasn’t felt this good in years!”

Hearing “I’m so glad I worked up the courage to say yes and work with you!” from a client is the most amazing feeling. I am so humbled every time someone trusts me to shepherd them through their awakening. It means the world to me that I get to be a mentor and a guide for those stepping into their own power and embodying the radiance of their true selves. In so much gratitude!

Non-Circumstantial Equanimity

Some musings from last week...

What if Pain isn't something to be processed or moved through, but something simply to be felt? Just as we don't rush to hurry up and process our Joy, what if we get to just experience our sorrow without trying to move it, or change it or fix it?

As I sprawl in bed and feel my ribs being squeezed by the bone-crushing ache of loneliness, I notice myself coming up with all sorts of strategies to alleviate the sensation of being pressed like a tube of toothpaste. Instead of following the impulses to distract myself by reaching out to friends, scrolling through my feed, listening to music, reading a book or even actively trying to shift my vibration by meditating, chanting or offering myself healing work, I just lie here and feel.

Is this some form of emotional masochism? I don't think so. It doesn't feel as though I'm punishing myself. It feels more like I am simply allowing myself to have an experience without squirming away from suffering.

What if the only reason these "negative" emotions hold any power over us is because we just don't like being uncomfortable?

What if, by learning that it's okay to feel uncomfortable, we empower ourselves to stay present in an experience without trying to impose our desires upon it and transmute it into something more palatable?

What a great way to practice awareness and peace, regardless of the situation. I welcome the opportunity to cultivate non-circumstantial equanimity.

The Tao of Carrying Groceries

...or, "How a Simple Chore is Helping Me Become a Better Person"

If you’re like me, rather than dividing the collective load into smaller, more manageable trips, you would rather heave eight bags of groceries from the car into the house in one go. Sling one bag over each shoulder, two bags in the crook of each elbow, clutching the last two in one hand as you fumble your keys in the other and pray you don’t smash the more delicate produce.

I exhibit this same inability to take baby steps in other areas of my life as well. If I wish to cultivate a skill, I pour myself into practice so that I can master it as quickly as possible. If I need to prepare a dish for a party or gathering, I choose the most complicated recipe to try. When confronted with a new idea or concept, I obsessively spin it around my consciousness until I have seen it from all sides. All of this as quickly as possible, of course.

However, the area where this “carry-all-the-groceries” attitude appears most notably is in the context of my own personal growth. Since I work in the field of personal development, energy healing and Spiritual mentorship, I love nerding out over the minutiae of human consciousness, and I am my own favorite subject. Plumbing the depths of my own psychology, emotional intelligence and mindfulness absolutely fascinates me. Why do I make certain choices in my words and behavior? Why do I respond to triggers in a certain way? What, truly, constitutes free will? How am I living as a sovereign being, as opposed to demonstrating the cumulative effects of decades of social conditioning? You know, the easy questions.

Naturally, when a challenge arises in the area of “how can Michelle be a better person,” I throw myself into it with the same determined vigor as I would hauling my eight shopping bags into the house, regardless of whether or not this is actually the best approach.

I discover some hidden emotional wounding from a random event in my past? Unpack all that baggage and sort it out immediately! A challenge arises in my relationship? Jump in and fix it right away! Getting together with my family brings up old dynamics and pushes everyone’s buttons? Let’s all sit down right now and create space to share until everyone feels heard and gets along again!

Based on my extensive self-analysis, the best hypothesis I can offer as to why I must accomplish things as quickly and efficiently as possible comes from a variety of personality traits that somehow add up to me staggering under the burden of a carload of groceries, when any sane person would take two trips. The first of these traits is sheer optimism in my ability to accomplish the task at hand. “Only eight bags of groceries? Of course I can manage that!” cries my inner decision-maker with complete confidence. The second trait is that I love being right. Once the eight bags of groceries are slung around my body, there’s no way I would ever admit to picking up more than I could handle. Reevaluating, taking some off and trying again would mean that I was wrong in the first place. The third trait is the hardest for me to admit, but I am secretly very competitive. This trait has softened over the years, so I am no longer ubiquitously competitive, but if there is a skill that I feel that I SHOULD be good at, I hate being anything less than rock-star caliber. In terms of my own personal development, my competitiveness is of epic proportions. I am well aware of the irony there.

One of the worst parts of my “carry-all-the-groceries” attitude is my own ridiculous hypocrisy. I tell my clients without hesitation to take baby steps as they work through personal challenges. “Be gentle on yourself as you move through your process,” I assure them. “Everything happens in its own space and time. Practice patience and presence, and give yourself permission to not get it perfectly the first time.”

Right?

I have finally decided, after years of not following my own advice, to give myself some credit as an expert in my field and treat myself like a client. Don’t I also deserve to be gentle on myself as I move through my process of growth and development? Bringing patience and presence to my journey of self-discovery sounds great!

So, in true Taoist fashion, I am practicing carrying my groceries in two (or more) mindful trips. Rather than holding my breath to ensure the stability of a carton of eggs perched on top of a precarious pile while leaning just far enough to the side to ensure that fourth bag doesn’t slip off of my shoulder, I will instead take the space and time to carry a manageable, comfortable amount. It might take 30 seconds longer, but isn’t it worth the grace and peace of mind? Instead of worrying about satisfying the competitiveness, the need to be right and the blind, unrealistic optimism of my inner perfectionist, I actually get to take my time and feel more relaxed.

Giving myself permission to practice carrying groceries in multiple trips has offered me opportunities to cultivate patience and ease, and treat myself more kindly through unfolding the facets of my very human psyche. In short, I am finally taking the advice that I have long been offering my clients. Personal perfectionism notwithstanding, I deserve to grow in my own space and time, just as I deserve to bring presence and peace to all aspects of my life, including carrying the groceries. Even a simple chore can be a wonderful teacher and opportunity for growth.

Animal Song

ANIMAL SONG: What does it mean to be an Animal Song Carrier?

A person who has been gifted the role of Animal Song Carrier fully embodies the medicine of that Totem. The Animal who chooses to offer its song to you declares in doing so that it gives you permission to access its magic, and that it trusts you to hold its energy and bring it forth into the world. The Animal Guide who invites you to carry its song empowers you with its medicine so that you can, together, co-create alchemy on the Earth plane. The Animal totem, after all, has a purpose and wisdom all its own, and by sharing its song with you, invites you to enact its vision into reality.

Working with Animal Totems is a significant component of my medicine and my discovery of Animal Song began (subconsciously) when I was very young. I have felt a deep connection with animals for as long as I can remember—in fact, my very first memory of this lifetime features the dog that my parents had when I was born (my parents are nowhere in this memory). As a child, when walking in the woods, wild deer would gently step out from between the trees to look at me before moving away into the dappled shadow. I remember visiting a flock of swans and watching them aggressively chase away other children who approached, and yet they allowed me to walk among them and sit peacefully in their midst.

The idea of connecting with animals in the energetic realm always made sense to me. My favorite stories growing up involved talking animals, and I read every book of Native American folk tales I could get my hands on because animals were featured as powerful, intelligent beings with a purpose and wisdom completely separate from human motivations.

I experienced my first Shamanic journey to discover my Spirit Animal when I was 14 years old. The Totem that revealed itself to me made its presence known in my life in a beautiful, supportive way, and I still receive the benefit of her guidance, even 15 years later.

As I deepened my relationship with Animal Guides, I discovered that I had many. I devoted myself to meditating with my guides, learning their medicine and honoring their wisdom. I found that some guides work specifically with certain situations and energies, some are present for short periods and others are lifelong totems.

Eagle is one such governing Totem in my life. In 2012, while offering blessings to a pair of bald eagles, they told me: “Eagle Song is more than the cries of the bird—it is the BEING of an eagle. It is the movement of air over feathers and the flexing of powerful feet and talons. It is observing without being observed. It is intensely knowing your body and valuing every part: there is no waste, only maximum efficiency for flight. But there is a part beyond our physical selves: that which lives between the layers and flies to the sun and back. This, too, is Eagle Song. Our wisdom comes from intimately knowing these parts and uniting them in our Highest Selves. We—and you, too, Child of Earth and Light—are far more than our physical bodies.”

In 2015, I participated in a traditional Native American dance ceremony, during which the Eagles told me that I am an Eagle Song Carrier. It was then that I truly delved into the essence of Animal Song and learned the enormous magic that comes from receiving such a gift. Being a Song Carrier for an Animal Totem is both an honor and a responsibility. By answering the call of the Spirit Animal who entrusts you with its Song, you effectively create a soul contract with that archetype to actualize its energy on the physical plane. You offer yourself as the vessel through which the medicine of this Animal Guide may flow as it works its own brand of magic for the well-being of Earth.

I carry other Animal Songs as well, but Eagle was the first to initiate me into this medicine. As such, I honor this totem through my work, and help others align with the Song of Animal Totems through private sessions, journey work and events featuring a particular Animal Guide.

It is my honor to facilitate another such event this Sunday afternoon (January 29), during which we will connect with Wolf Song. Wolf medicine is very strong in its cycle of power at this time and wishes to share its magic with the Earth plane for the benefit of all. Please join me this weekend to tune in to this powerful wisdom and let us together honor Wolf Song. Event information here.

Image by EntheoNation

Love and the Beauty of Pain

Love is NOT easy. Somebody WILL get hurt.

And that’s a beautiful thing.

I’m not talking about creating suffering for the sake of suffering, or inflicting our Shadows on others because we don’t know how else to bleed off a bit of the inner tension. I’m referring to the healthy kind of pain that squeezes your heart enough to point out your wounds and blind spots, but that ultimately lives in a safe container where it is welcome to be held and examined properly as a gift and learning tool, rather than an enemy.

I got dumped this afternoon, which was mostly a surprise for me. My wonderful (now ex) boyfriend and I have been experiencing some challenges lately, but I was fully prepared to gently and compassionately work through them together. I was under the impression that he was on board to do the same. In this case, no one is the bad guy. No one is the victim. Instead, we are two people who care deeply about each other, love spending time together and had some challenges come up, as they always do in relationship. I was ready to say yes to working through them. He was not.

Being told, “I don’t want to hurt you,” by a partner as part of a breakup speech feels simultaneously very sweet and completely clueless. I say that without judgement or pointing fingers, but as someone who has experienced my fair share of pain in relationship and knows the difference between healthy, constructive, growth-inducing pain and heart-splitting, destructive, damaging trauma. This relationship had already poked one of my deepest wounds and caused me some significant discomfort, but I was still willing to say yes to it because I knew that, by working through that pain with a compassionate partner, I was showing up in the world as the kind of person I want to be, and ultimately moving toward healing. I knew I was signing up for more painful teaching moments by continuing to say yes to being with this person, and I was still happy to do so because I know the richness that comes from such experiences. (Not to mention the sheer joy and beautiful connection that comprised the majority of our relationship.)

Pain is a great teacher—one of the most powerful and blatantly misunderstood allies for someone who seeks to truly know themselves. When we are children, we learn from pain. We learn that we can run, and when we fall and skin our knees, we learn to run more gracefully. As we grow, we learn all sorts of amazing skills that allow us to move us through life, and because of pain, we learn to do them well, respecting the potential for danger. We know that living in the world involves exposing ourselves to harm, but if we do not wish to let the potential pain dictate our actions, we learn how to move through our lives with awareness and grace and do those things anyway.

Relationship and the pain that comes with it is one of the most marvelous teachers and catalysts for unfolding the infinite beauty of one’s consciousness. Pain teaches us where our edges are so we can look at them, hold them with tenderness and gently lean into the wounding. When used with care and awareness, pain teaches us compassion, honesty, surrender, and how to love ourselves and our partners more deeply. Creating opportunities where pain can be welcomed as an honored teacher, rather than pushed away in fear, is what allows a relationship to build a solid foundation based in trust and the lived experience of working together through a challenge. Couples who hold each other’s pain lovingly and allow it to transmute into growth and learning cultivate a relationship dynamic that is much more likely to weather the storm of an unexpected life trauma (accident, sickness, family catastrophe) because they will have the tools ready to meet that pain with awareness, compassion and grace.

I cannot blame this man for wanting to avoid causing me harm, and for wanting to avoid being hurt, himself. None of us want to inflict suffering upon those whom we hold dear, and yet, love and pain are two sides of the same coin. Only through fully understanding and embracing both of these energies can we ever hope to know the true depth and beauty of our hearts.

As I shepherd myself through this process of closing a chapter with someone—a beautiful, compassionate man with whom I was just beginning to fall in love— I will gently examine my wounds and edges. I will say yes to this squeeze in my chest. I will invite pain in as a beloved ally to teach me the depth of my own heart and my capacity to love.

I will tenderly hold my own pain and know that it’s a beautiful thing.

SHAMAN

SHAMAN: What's in a "title"?

Last week I enjoyed the opportunity to introduce myself to someone using "anything but the woo-woo words" to describe myself and what I do. I was meeting a family member of someone close to me for the first time, and was forewarned that this family member would be most receptive to meeting me and warming to my character if I did not use "Spiritual language" to describe myself. In short, the phrase, "I'm a Shaman!" was off the table.

Challenge accepted!

When asked, "what do you do?" by this family member, I described the functional, tangible aspects of my work. "I support humans and animals in their journey to natural health and wellness. I work with animal health and behavior, and on the human side, I help people connect with their joy, love and purpose. I mentor people through challenging periods of their lives and help them work their way to the other side feeling more empowered, confident and connected." This person nodded approvingly and the conversation moved on.

Fast forward to today, in continuing with the theme, when someone online asked me, "What do you do as a Shaman?"

Again, I thoroughly enjoyed considering the functional implications of the term. What does a Shaman "do?"

Here is what I wrote back:

"I'm kind of laughing at my internal response to your question, which was "What DON'T I do as a Shaman?" I know that's not how you meant the question, but I try each day to live the idea of "my every breath and action is a practice in devotion to All That Is." So, essentially, I do everything as a Shaman, from washing the dishes and dancing to my healing work and more!

In other senses of the question, I practice the philosophy of "A Shaman devotes herself to the health and well-being of her Tribe." In my case, my Tribe is my global community. I work with humans and animals all over the world (though much of my client base is local) to help them discover and express their greatest joy, their fiercest love and their deepest purpose. I teach empowerment, mentor personal investigation and shepherd people through the underworld as they experience their own dark nights of the soul.

Functionally, I also work with supporting natural health and wellness (for humans and animals), teach Reiki and other healing practices (to humans), translate between species (animal communication) and channel Spirit (usually for humans).

Does that answer your question?"

Being a Shaman means different things to different people. The term gets thrown around a lot, and it's often loaded with some kind of judgment and/or misunderstanding. It took me YEARS before I was able to "put on the mantle" of claiming my medicine and publicly call myself a Shaman.

Now that I've journeyed through the process of fearing the label, unfolding the layers of the label, coming into my own understanding of the label, claiming the label and living the label, I'm finding that the label matters less and less. Shaman isn't what I DO, it's who I AM and how I live each moment of my life.

When my every breath is a prayer for the Highest and Greatest Good of All That Is, when I practice presence and peace in the face of every challenge, when I accompany people into the depths of their darkest fears so that they may feel safe, when I surrender to Spirit and allow the Divine to flow through me in order to let someone feel loved and seen and held--THAT is what I do, with or without the label. Shaman or not.

To be fair, the word "Shaman" fits more easily on a business card. It can be a very loaded "title," but it is also only that--a title. How is someone living their life as a Shaman? How do they practice their devotion? What is their offering? How do they live their service? These are questions I love to ponder for myself and others in the world, whether or not they call themselves Shamans.

I offer my gratitude to all those who continue to inquire and create opportunities for me to ponder my work, my choices and my path! I gladly receive these moments of reflection and growing understanding.

Many blessings and much love from your friendly neighborhood Shaman!

Michelle Hawk

Winter Solstice Blessings

December 21, 2016

I allow my gaze to float serenely over the bare birch limbs visible immediately outside of my office corner window. The sunlight streaming from behind the pine trees turns the water droplets hanging from twigs into gleaming starbursts that decorate the seemingly lifeless boughs.

What juxtaposition to witness this afternoon of the Winter Solstice in its gleaming golden glory. The misty haze that rises from the trees captures the sunlight and turns my thoughts towards tree auras as I imagine my hungry cells, like those of the languid pines, greedily slurping up every photon in photosynthetic gluttony. (I had my DNA tested earlier this year and I’m about 36% solar panel.)

How interesting, I think to myself, that this, the Darkest Day of the Year, can be so full of glowing, radiant light. The sweetness that comes from an unexpected sunny day creeps inside my chest like a beautiful poem, and I feel Gaia whispering to me as a lover would, telling me to relish this gift. I gaze at my sunlit hand in awe, noticing my fierce pleasure at the warmth and illumination. I employ my Hawk vision to help me observe in intricate detail the texture of my skin, the precise shade of each freckle and the exact pattern of the tiny, almost invisible hairs that cover the back of my hand.

Tonight I will drop into the fullness of the darkness and surrender back into the womb space of our Earthly cycles. I embrace the dark. I welcome her touch. I feel at ease in her inky softness. We have worked and played well together over the years, and I appreciate her for her wisdom.

Yet, for now, I hold in my heart the simple joy of knowing balance and grace. Even on the Darkest Day of the Year, there still shines a painfully beautiful light. Even in our own darkest moments, there still exists that same excruciating luminosity. This idea is the very speck of radiance that saved me three years ago, when I thought that I would be swallowed whole by the insurmountable Shadow. Darkness and I hadn’t yet cultivated our comfortable friendship at that time, and I feared that she would make me disappear.

I needn’t have worried (though that was part of the journey). Darkness has proven herself to be a wonderful teacher and powerful ally. She and I have achieved a level of ease and intimacy that I enjoy with only a few trusted beings. I have danced and held ceremony to honor her every year since we began our partnership, and will do so again this evening.

Last year for the Winter Solstice, I wrote a love letter to my Medicine Family in celebration of community, Tribe and witnessing us hold each other through our journeys. This year, I write this love letter to both Darkness and Light to honor their wisdom and their presence in all of our lives.

Thank you, Thank you, Thank you. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Happy Solstice.

Danger Junkie of the Soul

My current practice: Sharing my process and feelings while I still feel vulnerable.

I avoid conflict. I take complete responsibility for processing my own emotions. I value my alone time enormously. I don’t like to ask for help. I need to know how I feel before I can share it with anyone else.

The total sum of these qualities means that, when any kind of trigger or bubble of fear/anxiety/strong emotion arises, I retreat. I go within myself to fully process the feeling and return to a place where I feel safe and grounded before I even bring my inner turmoil to anyone’s attention, which can be anywhere from 2 minutes to days after the fact.

I don’t think that I am unique in my behavior. Humans make foolish decisions when we’re afraid, and we don’t like to make ourselves more vulnerable while we already feel compromised. For most people, however, I imagine that this takes the form of stuffing down their feelings and never looking at them until they explode. For me, it means that I go quiet until I have thought through it all and can express myself clearly.

I exhibit this behavior pretty much exclusively in relationship. I didn’t realize that this was the case until the last guy I dated expressed some frustration that I wasn’t sharing my feelings in the moment. When I reflected on this with a medicine sister, she replied with astonishment that I am one of the best she knows at doing this in the context of healing work. Immediacy, perfect clarity and ease of expression come to me effortlessly when working with clients and anyone else in my life, but as soon as I have to practice this with a partner, fear wins.

I decided that I would like to cultivate that skill of immediacy and vulnerability in my relationship dynamics. It feels important to practice this valuable tool, even though it scares the crap out of me.

And so, I lovingly devote myself to sharing my crippling fears, my debilitating anxieties, my bursts of terror and my spirals of shame while I am feeling them at the time. I am currently exploring a new relationship with a wonderful man who has very compassionately witnessed my moments of fierce emotion, listened to my feelings and held me in a state of ease and grace as I fumble my way back to equanimity.

I am definitely improving at this skill. The presence and peace with which I am met in these tumultuous moments have allowed me to bring these dark, twisting anxieties to the light to discover that perhaps they are less unlovable than I imagined. I certainly process these feelings much more quickly than I used to, but I suppose that makes sense. Trying to hold your own safe container while simultaneously addressing whatever emotional imp needs soothing in the moment takes some significant energetic juggling.

I love doing the things that scare me. I experienced one moment in particular last week that literally rendered me speechless out of sheer emotion: terror, shame, grief, trauma and despair all coursing through my chest in equal measure. And even though it felt like the most gut-wrenching thing in the world, I collected my breath and forced myself to speak it aloud. I noticed with some detached fascination as I did so that words could hold so much power and potential for healing. Witnessing myself in my terror and pushing through what feels like some form of death, then discovering that I still draw breath on the other side of the experience, is an intoxicating super power. Maybe this is what danger junkies feel when they risk life and limb. Maybe I’m a danger junkie of the heart and soul.

Examining those beliefs that we all have—the ones that shriek “No one would love me if they knew!” fascinates me beyond measure.

What terrors and anxieties hold you fast in their grip? What fears do you clutch so tightly to your chest that they rot away at your heart?

Are you ready to speak them aloud so you can begin to loosen their hold on you?

From one Danger Junkie of the Soul to another, I’ve got you. Let’s do this.

"What's Your Animal Guide?"

“What’s your animal guide?”

People often ask me this question after I introduce myself as a Shaman who works very strongly with Animal Medicine. In the context of a quick conversation, my short answer usually sounds something like, “Oh, I have many animal guides, and so do you,” but this brief response does nothing to illustrate the infinite layers of complexity and magic that come with delving deep into working with Animal Totems.

“My animal guide is an otter, because I’m very lighthearted and I like to play.”

I love that Animal Medicine has worked its way into popular consciousness! Many people share with great certainty the identity of their animal guide and an attribute of this guide with which they resonate strongly. However, as soon as I ask follow-up questions such as, “How else do you work with otter? What other aspects of its medicine do you find particularly impactful?” Most people answer that they haven’t really done anything further with their totem.

To me, this is akin to meeting your new best friend and powerful ally, learning their name, shaking their hand and then never speaking to them again. Imagine if you were at a party and the host tells you that a friend of theirs wants to meet you. The host leads you over to this person and you immediately perceive a strong energetic connection. You find yourself drawn to this person and feel excited to know them, and perhaps a bit honored to receive an introduction. The host goes on to offer further explanation of why this person was interested to meet you, and you find out that they are a wealth of talents, knowledge and power. This new person smiles glowingly at you and you shake their hand, feeling a surge of energy at this new, profound connection! Then, someone else calls your attention away and you make mental note to return to speak with this amazing new friend again, but you never do. You leave the party without exchanging information or making plans. You never reach out to the host to ask to put you in touch. From this point on, you recall with fondness the memory of that one time at that great party that the host introduced you to this amazing, glowing person with whom you felt such a strong connection, even though you never spoke again.

What if this potential best friend is still out there for you, waiting for you to rekindle the connection? What if this powerful ally has been waiting for you to reach out and ask to know them better? What if this amazing, magical being has been watching you, witnessing your life, ready to offer their teachings as soon as you are ready to receive that wisdom?

Throughout my many years of working with Animal Totems, I have witnessed time and again the magic and profound lessons that come from diving deep into animal medicine. To date, some of my most powerful initiatory experiences made themselves known through Animal messengers appearing for a dramatic introduction.

And yet, the introduction is exactly that: the first step in claiming your relationship with a powerful ally. The work that follows holds the real magic of depth, subtlety and power. By stepping into relationship with your Animal Totems, you cement a bond with their medicine that can last a lifetime and support you in your continued unfolding of joy, love and purpose.

Do you already know the identity of your Animal Guide and want to delve further into your personal connection with its medicine? Even if you don’t know its identity, do you feel your guide out there, waiting to meet you?

Magic & Medicine is an in-depth, four week long journey of discovery with your Animal Totem. This experience includes:

• The Meeting: Welcome the new Totem into your energy field.
• The Messages: Learn why this Guide is appearing to you and how it wants to reveal its teachings.
• The Merge: Bring your Animal Totem to life within your own body and make its energy actionable on the Earth plane.
• The Manifesto: Delve into the purpose of your work with this Totem and solidify your mission together.
• And more! Learn the details of Magic & Medicine here.

Contact me for a free consultation and begin your Magic & Medicine journey with your powerful animal ally today.

Hineni

I have had a beautiful remix of Leonard Cohen’s “You Want It Darker” playing on repeat for the last several days.

First listen—the song weaves its way into my body and stirs my muscles and bones into supple twists and rhythms. Experience the raw, visceral pulsation of beat and voice and subtlety.

Play the song again, feel the texture of the words gliding roughly over my awaiting and receptive mind, notice the syllables slowly sinking into conscious awareness.

Begin paying attention to the lyrics, revel in the tonal fluctuations and depth of character.

Ponder the meaning… who sings this haunted prayer? “A million candles burning for the love that never came…” Is this Lucifer lamenting the fall? Is this some Christ consciousness agonizing upon witnessing the nature of humanity? Is this we collectively as humans who so fear the light and true nature of love and power that we would rather choose infinite darkness?

Consider the political context and timely obsession with this simple, provocative song.

Look up the unfamiliar word, “Hineni.”

Discover the profound meaning of service, of readiness, of devotion, of absolute trust and faith and surrender.

Meditate on my own offering of Hineni and the implications for one such as myself to claim my path.

Sing this song with my own smooth voice and feel the tortured tones twist my tongue into tragedy.

Recognize myself in my own darkness.

Embody Hineni prayer with every breath.

Know that even if this service takes me into the darkness, I still choose this path.

Play the song again.

Hineni, hineni. I’m ready, my lord.

Wake Up To Your Power

Corrupt systems can only survive in a distracted, disempowered society. Are you ready to claim your power? Let's WAKE UP together.

My First Universal Life Revelation

The moment that I later described as my “First Universal Life Revelation” occurred on Saturday, November 4th, 2006 as I stood in a record-setting torrential downpour.

I was a sophomore in University at the time, earning my degree in biology. Entrenched in academia, I was struggling to come to terms with what I learned in my study of science and how it related to my study of Reiki, as I had just completed my Reiki II training the month before. There seemed to be a substantial gap between the scientific community’s understanding of life and the world in which I was beginning to immerse myself: the world which taught me that there is no such thing as a barrier of space and time and that I am connected to All That Is. Looking back on that time of my life, I feel so much compassion for my 19 year old self. Sharing with other students the profound experiences that came from practicing Reiki served to isolate me from my academically-minded peers. The incredulity with which they met my suggestion that energy healing had a role to play in modern medicine dissuaded me from expounding upon my ideas.

On that Saturday in November, it seemed as though every circumstance had somehow come into perfect alignment to make me as miserable as possible. For one, I was sick. The previous Wednesday evening I had started to feel achy and tired, and I had woken up the following day with a burning fever. I missed all my classes Thursday and Friday as I lay in bed, drifting in and out of hallucinatory consciousness. My illness coincided with one of the heaviest periods of rainfall that Tacoma has ever seen. The drumming downpour on the roof set a dramatic soundtrack to my convalescence.

I awoke on Saturday feeling as though my fever had broken, though I was weak and somewhat shaky. When I finally ventured out of the dorm that afternoon, I enjoyed the bizarre sight of a few outdoorsy people kayaking in the flooded streets as sheets of water continued to swell the new, impromptu lakes. The whole situation felt almost unreal, like my hallucinations had followed me into the waking world.

For some reason, I decided that my first outing would be to go with my roommate to attend the last football game of the year. I’m still not entirely sure of my motivation for going. I have little patience for watching football even when I’m healthy and enjoying beautiful weather, so I’ll chalk it up to the pull of the Universe wanting to send me a message.

We stood there in the pouring rain as gusts of wind whipped cold strands of hair across my eyes to sting my exposed cheeks. At least my body was largely protected from the wind by the crowd of students, though the jostling on all sides felt just as invasive. The cold crept up my legs from where I had splashed myself leaping over a deep puddle and I bounced in place to attempt to bring some circulation to my freezing feet. I tried to watch the game, but the sky was so dark and the field was so muddy that it shortly became impossible to distinguish the color of the jerseys below. I had no idea how anyone on the field could even see the ball, let alone catch it.

I remember thinking how completely ridiculous the whole situation felt. I generally practice the philosophy of “things could always be worse,” but in that moment, things felt pretty close to awful. I was standing in the pouring rain after being sick for three days, watching a game I don’t care about, completely unable to tell what was happening on the field while being bumped and jarred by yelling people. And instead of succumbing to the monumental misery of the moment and hating everything about my circumstances, something clicked in my brain and I decided to have fun. That’s all: I decided that I was going to enjoy myself.

And so I did. I had so much fun watching the rest of the game in that record-setting downpour, surrounded by a crowd of screaming people while I sweated out the last of my fever. I felt like I was high, like nothing could touch me, and from then on the chilly rain seemed comical as it ran down the back of my neck. I have no idea who won the game (I could barely see anyway) but I had just discovered that I had the amazing power to decide how I felt, regardless of the circumstances around me.

This amazing high lasted for weeks and helped me to earn a perfect score on an exam for my Vertebrate Zoology class, deliver an amazing presentation to my Archaeology and Religion professor (he later cited my work to others in the class as an exemplary project) and navigate with more success than ever the challenge of integrating my growing understanding of energy into my academic studies. I found it much easier to speak with my peers about my experience working with Reiki, and found that they seemed much more open to hearing me. From that simple decision I made, that I was going to have fun in spite of the miserable circumstances, came a cascade of wonderful alignments and further validation.

I cite my “First Universal Life Revelation” as the beginning of a dramatic shift in my consciousness because, when presented with the opportunity to choose between misery and joy, I chose joy. It would have been so easy to succumb to all the factors pointing me in the direction of “everything about this is terrible,” but instead, I decided to enjoy myself. In that moment, I consciously became more powerful than my circumstances. I created my own experience, chose my perception of the situation and felt my joy reflected back to me on all sides.

We are all more powerful than our circumstances. We all hold the enormous capacity to create our own experiences, or at very least, to decide how we feel about them. I like to celebrate my own personal anniversaries of these revelations because they remind me of moments in which I experienced a profound shift in my awareness that has since altered the course of my existence. Reminding myself of times when I receive that teaching, that “lightbulb moment,” helps me feel empowered to embody those lessons consistently every day. There have been circumstances during the intervening years in which it felt as though my world was falling apart. And yet, I was able to move through it all relatively gracefully by reminding myself that, even in the moments when I feel least empowered, I still have the option to choose between misery and joy.

I’m finding my 10-year anniversary of this revelation particularly relevant right now. Between Standing Rock and the election (not to mention any of the other political and environmental atrocities taking place at the moment), I have had many opportunities lately to practice choosing joy, compassion and purpose over misery and despair.

Today, on the 10-year anniversary of my First Universal Life Revelation, I renew my commitment to choosing joy. I remember that I am empowered to create my own understanding. I take responsibility for making sure that my thoughts, words, actions and choices all work directly in service to creating an empowered, joyful experience for myself and others.

And if you feel called to join me, I invite you to do the same.

I AM Here to Build an Empire of Love

I AM HERE TO BUILD AN EMPIRE OF LOVE.

I AM here to lay my passion, brick by brick, in the fertile soil. I AM here to trace mandalas with my feet in the shimmering sands and cultivate the foundation of Joy, upon which my Queendom will flourish.

I AM here to feel my heart race with the pleasure of becoming…

I AM here to sing the harmony of pack song as my wolf eyes gaze with fierce love upon my Empire. I AM here to feel the snakes flex and coil up my spine, arching my back in ecstasy.

I AM here to make love to Gaia by plunging my hands into her rich loam, embracing her towering trees and lapping up the sparkling nectar of her flowing streams. I AM here to receive dappled sunlight and playful breezes on my hungry skin.

I AM here to call my Tribe to me with the resonant beat of my heart drum. I AM here to coax the flickering tongues of whispering flame into a blaze that roars with Truth. I AM here to summon change with my howling incantations under the dark birth of a New Moon Rising. I AM here to shepherd willing souls through the Underworld.

I AM here to serve my thriving Queendom with steady purpose. I AM here to light the path for those who wish to see by the glow of my unfolding. I AM here to witness, in exquisite anticipation, my own journey of discovery.

I AM here, in time, to offer my human body in Death. I AM here to compost myself into fertile soil, upon which my children will lay the foundation of an Empire of Love.

Reflections on Shepherding the Dead

I have worked with a lot of clients through the death and dying process over the years, but in the last week working with death has been the focus of more of my sessions than usual. Here are some thoughts as I reflect on transition and the role I play (and the role any Shaman plays) in supporting my clients before and after death.

Many blessings,

Michelle Hawk

Grounding for Everyone in Life, Reiki, Shamanic Work and Energy Healing

One of the things I emphasize most to my Reiki and Shamanic Apprentice Program students is the practice of grounding. Feeling grounded is essential for anyone's health, safety and well-being, but this is especially true of anyone practicing Reiki, Shamanism or other energy healing modalities. When speaking about grounding with my Reiki students and clients, I use the analogy of a pyramid. The bigger the base of the pyramid, the taller you can build it--meaning, the more grounded you are and the more solid your energetic foundation, the more you can safely extend your psychic energy into high-vibration realms of consciousness.

The same is true for everyone. We live in a world that encourages people to live anywhere except in their bodies, in the present. We are bombarded with distractions that pull us into our brains, into thinking about the future, into our electronic devices and out of ourselves. The more present and grounded we can be in our roots and our bodies, the greater our capacity for making healthy decisions, being present in our relationships, feeling comfortable and confident and bringing more energy to our lives.

Here is a video I made for you. This is a variation on a meditation that I offer during Reiki class. It offers practice in grounding and connecting to Earth energy, then expanding your awareness upward. This meditation feels a little different every time as you become more practiced, so feel free to try it more than once and notice what changes for you.

Happy grounding!

Many blessings,

Michelle Hawk

Honoring Ten Years of Reiki and My First Teacher

This week marks the 10 year anniversary of when I began officially studying Reiki, though my lessons in energy healing began years earlier. My first teacher was my dog, Ginger. She was a beautiful yellow lab—a great family dog and my wonderful companion. We spent long hours playing together outside and rolling in the grass. Nothing comes close to the contagious goofiness of a puppy.

When Ginger was six years old, she was diagnosed with diabetes. This event marked a significant shift in the nature of our relationship: Ginger and I were no longer the springy young puppy and giggling child. She was an adult dog experiencing a health challenge and I was her big sister who wanted to take care of her. I was desperate to help her feel better. Twelve years old at the time, I was mature and capable enough to learn how to help monitor her diet and energy levels, test her blood sugar and give her insulin injections. While my attention to Ginger’s needs increased on the medical front, her illness also deepened our energetic relationship and loving connection. I would sit with her while she lay in her bed and put my hands on her, not petting her, but holding my hands in place on her body. I remember visualizing colored light flowing from my body, down my arms, through my hands and into her. No one had ever told me to do that or taught me about energy healing—it just seemed like a good idea. Ginger herself seemed to request that I place my hands on her when she looked at me dolefully. After 10 or 15 minutes, she would twitch her skin under my hands and I would understand that she had had enough.

Over the next few years, my connection with Ginger deepened as we both matured and I continued to offer her colored light through my hands. Then, when I was 15, my mom made friends with some women who had recently opened a massage and Reiki clinic in the area. I was interested to speak with these “energy workers” based on her description. My mom brought me and Ginger into the clinic to meet them and have a look around. When they began speaking with me about energy healing work, I felt completely mesmerized. They told me about Reiki and it was as though something deep within me awoke with the validation that this was a practice that existed in the world, not just in my relationship with my dog. I told them what I had been doing with Ginger and they said to me, “That’s Reiki. You should go take a class and be trained in that.”

I didn’t begin studying Reiki immediately—the timing didn’t feel quite right to start formally learning an established discipline. Instead I began intuitively exploring my Shamanic practice around that time, and it wasn’t until 2006 (at 19 years of age) when I began studying under a human teacher. A local Reiki Master attuned me to Reiki I on August 13, 2006 and I took Reiki II with her two months later. My mom began studying Reiki with another Master soon after that, then after completing her studies, she later attuned me as a Reiki Master in December of 2008. Learning from human teachers, combined with the fact that my investigation of Reiki overlapped with my time studying biology in university, gave my previously intuitive exploration a scientific, academic flavor. I’ll save that story for another time.

Suffice it to say that my practice has grown and changed significantly in the intervening years, but some things remain the same as they were when my dear Ginger first pulled healing energy from me almost 20 years ago. She was my first, most patient teacher who spoke to me through subtle cues that demanded my complete presence and attention if I was to receive them. From her I learned how to open to my intuition and allow it to inform my actions. I learned how to be present as a vessel for healing to take place, and later I learned that I was capable of animal communication. (As I processed my devastating grief over her passing I became consciously aware of the intimate psychic connection we had enjoyed throughout her life.) Laying my hands on Ginger and allowing healing energy to flow through me set the stage for me to meet my wonderful human teachers and receive the conscious training and direction I needed to deepen my awareness. The strength of the intuitive practice that Ginger instilled in me allowed me to easily step into the teachings of Reiki and integrate the energy seamlessly with my own on the conscious level.

As I reflect on my 10 years of working with Reiki, I know that no other practice has done more for me, personally and professionally, to promote my health, well-being and happiness. Yes, my practice now includes other modalities, especially a deep connection working with Shamanism, but it all began with me as a young girl loving my dog, wanting to help her feel better and doing the best thing I could imagine: offering her light and love. Ginger opened the door for me to connect deeply with her, and in doing so, I discovered Reiki, which in turn led me to grow in my purpose, my empowerment, my health and how I work in service to the world. And for all of that, I can only ever be eternally humble and enormously grateful to Ginger, my first teacher.