Birds of a Feather
My path into the world of shamanic work began 25 years ago with a bird. I was coaxed by a friend and colleague of mine to visit a woman who was a student of Michael Harner’s Foundation for Shamanic Studies. This energy healer offered what is known as Soul Retrieval - a practice for healing emotional disconnections. At the time I was feeling my own sense of disconnection and heartache related to having gone through a divorce and my longing for a loving primary relationship.
I arrived at this woman’s house and was invited into a place that looked like something out of a short story about quirky people who collect everything you can think of and never throw anything away. Little china figurines next to Native American dreamcatchers, tea pots and, of course, cats. The woman herself was tall, very round and middle aged with hair down to her waist tied back in a pony tail. I can’t recall her name, but she was kind, straightforward and no-nonsense. I felt at ease, wondering where she was going to perform this interesting and foreign sounding healing ceremony for me. In a matter-of-fact, high soft voice she invited me to lay on the floor, close my eyes and relax. She lay parallel a short distance away, plugged into her Disc Man which began to play a drumming CD. "Okay", I thought..."weird...no mat or blanket or pad. Just lay yourself down on this bare floor and off we go!"
I settled down and closed my eyes, wondering what my adventure loving friend had gotten me into this time. Nothing happened. No special lights or sounds or faces - nothing. I squirmed a bit, trying to get comfortable on the hard floor as I thought about what I would make for dinner that evening…. pasta with homemade tomato sauce or chicken with mashed potatoes…what would the kids enjoy?
Suddenly I felt slammed into the body of an eagle. Now how many times in your life have you ever written such a thing or had the thought? For me that would have been never. I was not seeing an eagle, I was a bird of prey. I felt myself soaring through the air, sharp eyes focused on finding something warm to kill and eat. Feeling the joy of the air currents under my wings, I streamed across the sky, fast and fierce, making the dive and capturing the small furry creature in my strong beak. And I knew where I was going. I could feel the urgency of the eaglets crying, needing to be fed. Wings pumping with purpose, I angled low to reach the nest, the little mouths raised and desperate for the warm flesh and blood.
What felt like a journey of hours was probably less than a minute. Jolted back into ordinary awareness, I experienced a bit of vertigo. Where and what was I? The Laury-self took quick mastery of my consciousness and I saw that the healer hadn’t moved from the floor nearby. It looked as though I hadn’t left the room, hadn’t transformed into another creature altogether.
Taking long, deep breaths, I waited for her. Five more minutes and she unplugged herself, sat up and asked me “So how was that for you?” Well. I recounted the story as best I could, feeling that the words could not truly capture the experience.
She nodded, listening without comment until I finished. “You have been called” she said. Called? Who is calling me? “You have to go and learn from the shamans. It’s your calling” she repeated emphatically.
I thanked and paid her, leaving the house in a daze. I was (and am) a trauma psychotherapist doing EMDR in a private practice. I was happy with my work, satisfied, fulfilled. Did I really need to go off on some wild ‘eagle’ chase? Well, I did, as you can see, and here I am now. The great Mother-Sister Eagle called me to this work and I went. A year later, I met Alberto Villoldo, my first shamanic teacher and the rest is history.
