WHITE PEOPLE CAN’T BE SHAMANS

 

Not so sure I want the job, but I applied anyways. It’s full time. Less time with my daughter. Don’t like that very much.

Ideally, I could keep growing my business organically. But a consistent paycheck would also be nice.

I am leaving it up to the universe.

Whatever is best for me and her.

Speaking of, today, had a very intense and disturbing yet enlightening experience at my daughter’s school. Apparently she has been playfully “hitting” her BFF and not stopping when said BFF tells her to. The BFF told her Mother who got extremely upset and possibly “overreacted” in my opinion, but she is a good friend, and like me, a highly intelligent, extremely sensitive, very emotional, and complicated woman. Which are all qualities I admire and yet, make a situation like this potentially volatile. I handled it, initially, very well. I thought. When she and I and the girls addressed it together. But today we sat down with the director of our daughters’ preschool and I did not fair as well. It felt like the director favored this woman and her child over mine. Which may or may not be true, but triggered me in a BIG BAD way. I had to listen to her tell my friend what an amazing mother she is and how brave her daughter was for bringing this up and how if she (the director of the school) could come back (to this planet, I assume) she would want my friend as her mother, she is so stellar.

I watched as my daughter struggled in excruciating pain trying to make sense of her feelings no matter how many times the director told her she was not wrong or bad for hitting her friend, she just needed to stop it, and then the director went on to tell me that in her meditation that morning, she had come upon the insight that she thought my daughter was hitting her friend because she didn’t feel “seen” by me. She then asked my daughter if she did not feel “seen” by me. My daughter nodded and said quietly, “yes.” My daughter is FIVE-FUCKING-YEARS-OLD! She does not know what that means! I nearly lost my shit, internally and externally.

This woman knows that I have told her how I never felt “seen” by my mother.

This felt cruel and unusual.

I had an appointment with a shaman so I had to leave and could not process in the moment.I cried with the shaman about it all.

Instead, I cried first thing with the shaman. Who I had never met before. He was a white man who used to be a family medicine doctor and was apparently very successful by the look of his house in La Canada- but who seemed kind and warm and empathetic. First of all, white people can’t be shamans. I know this now. I did not know that then.

He used crystals, sang songs, four directions, blew sage smoke on me, and spit rose water on me. It was all very entertaining, but to be honest, I did not take it too seriously.

Saying this now, I sound at best like a mad-woman and at worst, like an idiot.

But it all made sense in the moment. I assure you.

And I felt so present and in my body afterwards. No picking ripping chewing. I sat and looked him in the eyes and felt a peace never before.

That was worth it, for what it is worth.

When I was leaving he told me I might hear from someone in my past that day, it usually happened, and if it did, I could choose how I wanted to respond.

When I got home, Tommy, from High School, not only friended me on Facebook, but sent a message.

How weird is that?

And what am I going to do with it?

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