Diary of an urban shaman
 Raym Richards teaches his Crystal Dreaming technique to practitioners worldwide. His stories are loosely based on real life experiences over a 15-year period.
|
|
Urban shaman – peasant farmer |
|
Thursday, 01 July 2010 00:00 |
|
By Raym Richards
I sense immediately that we are in a hot part of southern or eastern Europe. I stand next to my client Madelena. We are in a sparsely vegetated area on a rough dirt track. I can tell that she is poor by the stinking rags she wears for clothes. She is now a man, walking beside me in his sweat-stained work clothes, which I suspect are the only clothes he possesses.
He is returning from a day’s hard labour and, from the way he walks, he is exhausted. He carries in his hand a primitive but well honed sickle, its curved blade swinging by his side. It is strange, but despite this desolate poverty, I sense he somehow loves this place. It is very far removed from the comfortable city life my client experiences now.
We are returning to this man’s home as the sun approaches the end of its slow downward arc towards the horizon. Because my client has stepped spontaneously into this full-body, past-life recall I know that it is likely to be a profound and possibly traumatic experience.
I make no attempt to contact the man who is Madelena as he cannot see me. Normally Madelena would be standing next to me witnessing the scene as I am. I would be in telepathic communication with her by now, guiding her through her journey, making suggestions about what she might do next. Today Madelena is a man and she is oblivious to my presence and totally involved with her experience in this distant country, probably in the distant past. As a time traveller visiting this time and place, I am invisible to her, as I am to anyone in this reality. I have no idea what is coming next.
I hear a disturbance as we approach a small settlement. My disheveled companion’s pace quickens as he realises something is amiss. We also smell burning and, mixed with the coarse, brutish shouts of men, I hear the cries of a child and the sobbing of a woman. As we round a small hillock the scene unfolds before us. Still some distance away I see a group of soldiers, some on horseback. They wear an emblem I recognise and I know the time I am in. The soldiers on foot are involved in the timeless war crimes that seem to accompany undisciplined soldiers wherever they go, whatever century they are in.
I feel my own gut tighten as we approach the scene; the soldiers are so involved with their malicious destruction they do not notice the peasant farmer approach. He is enraged. Without hesitation he races into the thick of it, leaping on the back of a soldier trying to rape his wife. He pulls the rapist’s head back and slits his throat with one fluid pass of his razor-sharp sickle, which has become an extension of his sinewy body. Before the soldier even realises what has happened, he is falling to the ground with a surprised and vacant look in his face. Immediately the farmer who is Madelena turns to another nearby soldier who is about to harm a child and completely decapitates him with one explosive strike of his sickle. The peasant farmer has become a wailing, wiry banshee. He is screaming with rage as he hacks into and drops another, then another, of the invading infidels, who are randomly destroying everything he holds dear.
|
|
Read more...
|
|
|
Tuesday, 01 June 2010 10:00 |
|
By Raym Richards
This other-worldly space we are in is so real we could almost be there. Our consciousness is, but our bodies are not. I am with my client Dave and we are in a disco. It is a hot, steamy, tropical setting and everyone is partying hard. It is one of those places that cater for your overseas Aussie tourist who just likes to drink, pick up a partner and dance the night away.
It has a vaguely seedy feel, but everyone seems to be happily inebriated – so it doesn’t really matter to them. Apart from sweat, cheap perfume and beer, I can smell the all-pervading underlying odour of two-stroke, kero and clove cigarettes.
Dave, does this place feel familiar? I telepath. He is relaxed. I have already told him that as time travellers we will be invisible to the locals.
No mate. I can guess where we are, but I’ve never been here. He is soaking up the atmosphere like he is on a fairground ride.
Oh right. Are you drawn to anyone in particular? I am fishing.
I feel a pending dread deep in my gut. Part of me senses what may be about to happen but it does not make sense. I am perplexed because what I fear should just not be possible.
That girl over there – she could be my sister, if I had one.
OK. Go ever and step into her body and tell me how it feels. He steps into the body of a young, attractive but rather shy girl, out for the night with her friends.
Weird man! Like soft and sensitive. She’s got no muscles. What’s going on inside of her? So emotional. She feels vulnerable, She’s thinking about how she looks and what people think of her. I want to look after her. Is she, like, my sister or something?
Sort of. I respond. I am still figuring this one out.
|
|
Read more...
|
|
Saturday, 01 May 2010 00:00 |
|
By Raym Richards
I am being driven down a country road at high speed and, without any warning, my driver drops into a deep trance state. With his eyes rolled back and eyelids flickering rapidly, I know there is no way he can be seeing the road ahead and, further, the hairpin bend that we are about to negotiate.
“I can sense some dead people up ahead. They are stuck. There’s been a car accident here a few years ago. We should help them”, he says calmly.
“Wayne. Snap out of it mate; you’re still driving!” There is no response. I am starting to feel a bit anxious. I have to act, and act now. I reach across to the steering wheel with one hand while the other hovers over the handbrake, as I pray I am making the right decision.
I am with my sidekick Wayne, a gifted young trance channel whom I work with occasionally, when the need arises. We have driven across town from my crystal shop and are travelling to a country property where some strange things have been happening.
Wayne rocked up at my shop a few years ago. He was not your standard new age crystal type – no hippie clothes, no wafting fluffy ideas and none of the conspiratorial arrogance that sometimes comes with blokes who have a little esoteric knowledge. Instead, a young surfer arrived telling me that he’d been dreaming about me and that he and I would be working together.
Image supplied by Ona Henderson
This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it
This kind of proposition happens a fair bit in my line of work. Novices get the idea that I will somehow allow them to hang out with me and through osmosis they will pick up skills and knowledge that have taken decades (if not lifetimes) to reacquire. This is possible of course, for a few selected apprentices who have been through rigorous training and initiation with me – but someone straight off the street? Never. Well, almost never. I agreed to facilitate a Crystal Dreaming session for young Wayne and in his first full shamanic journey with me he displayed great clarity and fearlessness, along with a ‘knowing’ that comes from extensive past life experience in this field. We talked at length after his session, unusual for me as I like to move clients through and let them figure things out for themselves. I am not keen on co-dependency, which is why I allow people to see me just a few times, and then only after they have experienced a session with one of my apprentices.
|
|
Read more...
|
|
Thursday, 01 April 2010 00:00 |
|
By Raym
What did he mean sky-devils?
My client Nadia telepaths as we take our leave of a helpful old alchemist from a past life. We are on a shamanic journey and we’re in no-time-space.
Rather than explain, I suggest she tells her body to show her when the crystal we have just discovered inside her body was placed there.
Body I command you, show me the moment this crystal was placed here.Now!
Immediately we are in that moment and just as quickly my client starts screaming.
I do not have to ask Do you recognise anyone because she sees herself as she is in this present life, but she looks a little younger. She has immediately stepped straight into her own body. She is in a cold sterile place on a shiny operating table. She is being pinned down by restraints on her wrists and ankles and small grey humanoid creatures with large dark eyes are probing, testing and opening her body, without any regard for her feelings.
|
|
Read more...
|
|
Monday, 01 March 2010 00:00 |
|
By Raym Richards
I am in no-time-space with my client and I am trying hard not to confront an already angry and abusive earthbound spirit that has attached itself to her. Cursing me in Afrikaans he reaches through my protective energy shield and starts to throttle me. This should not be possible, but it seems to be happening and it really hurts.
I can feel his hands clamped around my throat. This is turning into the most visceral other-worldly experience I have ever had. Choking, I telepath.
I am not a threat to you. What are you so angry about?
I cop another outpouring of abuse. I need to stay cool, but I am beginning to feel light headed. I feel tapping on my shoulder, I look to my left but there is no-one next to me. Now I am really confused, the other earthbound spirits are still attached to my client. What is happening to me?
Then I get it, my assistant is trying to bring me back into the physical; so I quickly return to full consciousness. When I open my eyes I realise that my client, a tiny woman, has lifted up my muscular body and has me pinned against the wall. Her face is right next to mine, her eyes are wide open but her eyeballs are rolled back – so I am staring straight into the whites of her eyes as she rants on at me in a deep male voice.
|
|
Read more...
|
|
|
|
|
<< Start < Prev 1 2 Next > End >>
|
|
Page 1 of 2 |
|
|
