Urban Shaman (II)

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Urban Shaman (II)

A dark and stormy night

When others come to us for help, we usually treat them with disdain. We ignore them, telling to be on their way. The weaker ones go because they cannot resist our will – the stronger ones push back against our hypnotic stare and stay. Then of course we can make ourselves invisible or vanish into the crowd – shape-shift or blend into the background, if people become really tiresome. The good ones see through our tricks though, chasing our energy or seeing it still in front of them, even if in a different form or none at all.

'Go past me!'

'Ignore me – I'm not really here.'

But they don't. We read their minds, to find weaknesses – then throw these in their faces, like Moses changing his staff into a snake. We watch the weaker ones run, with amused smiles to ourselves, while bystanders act bemused as they 'usually' see nothing (telepathy is a wonderful thing at times). The really stubborn ones follow us, when we slide between realities and we know we have them, like a fisherman playing a fish. Those ones become our chelas, our pupils, our followers – until they learn to follow themselves (stand on their own two feet).

When they want to get away but can't because they are stuck to us like tar babies, they resent us. Do they resent food though, when they are hungry? No! So why this act? It is just the childish attitude of those in this civilisation, who don't want to owe anybody else anything and who don't see that at this stage because they can't. When they do, they show gratitude for life and move on, realising that this attitude alone traps them or 'appears to: We have opponents in our world but not real enemies. Death (time) is that which we treat with respect, knowing it chases us all and changes us all.

We look with humility upon the lost – those caught in the illusions of their own being. These you would call mad in The West but are considered blessed in The East. They of course consider themselves to be God or chosen by God. We know this to be true by the glow of their auras. It is just unfortunate that they are not anchored in the mundane world. They are like flies to its spider's web. Death tries to hold them in this world as sacrificial lambs. We try our best to rescue them, before the authorities try to convert them or drag them off the streets as they do all non-conformists, who might disrupt the system. The comprehender's try to make this conversion as painless as possible, to the degree the system allows. We drag them out and do the same, until the fever passes. We nurse them back to normality, change their nappies and let them wake up to where they are physically.

We see them revelling in the significance of all they see, which they take as God speaking to them, personally (It is not the message that is wrong but the interpretation). We are not angels or your own personal Jesus: Nobody comes to God through you alone. This power is for us all, individually and collectively. Some reach it through drugs – others through meditation, natural talent etc. Some, like us, do it through hard work and discipline. The multiverse is there for us all. Walk wisely wherever you go – you're walking on yourself, remember.

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