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My First Shamanic Spirit Journey.


On Saturday, September 23rd, 2017, in Woodland Park, CO, at the Sacred Hoops Ministry, I experienced my first incredible spirit journey, hosted by an extraordinary shaman.

Setting My Intention

I set my intention for meeting my rising Phoenix spirit guide but also intentionally focused on being open to whatever experiences invited me along my journey. At the very beginning of my journey, I catch glimpses of my Phoenix. At first I think it’s a hawk swimming in the sky, but then I realize it’s my Phoenix, confident in this conclusion for I can feel its powerful presence.

Looking back upon my life, it was all the times I wanted to give up—the times I felt that giving up was my only choice because everything was too dark & irredeemable & I was too broken. Yet, still, even in the midst of darkness that swallows some of the strongest souls whole, I find a convicting feeling of empowerment—a push, a drive, a motivation deep within my spirit that will not be silenced or tamed by ANYone. A small, still voice within me calmly says, “I can do it, & I will do it,” even knowing the seemingly insurmountable odds & obstacles we face. Even now, that power rises within me in the darkest moments when I truly feel there is no way out of the blackest. Every time I rise again, every time I stand when it feels completely impossible, every time I rise from the ashes after burning alive once again,— I grow stronger. So strong that nothing can ever crush me, that no obstacle will ever be impossible again, that no outside voice can ever sway me from my life’s mission during this fleeting time on earth.

I need to express more gratitude for the presence of this rising Phoenix. I express that gratitude, now, here, in this moment upon this unforgettable spiritual journey in Woodland Park. I thank the Universe for my fairies, for nature, for this moment, for my Phoenix, & for all the beautiful blessings I experience during this transformational season of life. This gratitude overflows, allowing these blessings to continue. For the first time, I begin to believe that “what you focus on grows.” I’ve never felt this to be true from my experiences, but I believe I am finally being proved wrong.

Stepping into the Forest

I see the trees reaching up towards the big blue sky. It’s a beautiful day, not a cloud in sight. It’s chilly because the sun is partially blocked by the very tall, tall trees, but the sun rays that do leak in are the most glorious, beautiful, radiant sight I’ve ever experienced. I stand, dazzled, mystified, completely captivated by this serene scene I’ve been miraculously plopped into. The weather couldn’t be more perfect: the warmth of the sun & the slight breeze, along with the trees allowing just the perfect amount of sunlight to slip through, create the most comfortable temperature & atmosphere I could ask for. A little warm, a little cold, fluctuating in perfect harmony.

My eyes glimpse a hammock ahead. My exhausted soul flops into it, the weariness from all my life travels finally catching up with me. I feel the gentle sway as I gaze up at the majestic trees. My focus rests entirely upon this moment.

The Rushing River

Once I am rested, I grow bored, so I rise & continue my walk through the mystical forest, curious what else lays in store for this journey. After a few peaceful moments, I stumble upon a babbling brook, the rush of the water resembling the exciting, energetic personality of white water rapids. It doesn’t look too deep, but I am uncertain how deep it really is. (It’s larger than the creek in my fairy garden.)

I feel the tickle of bugs landing on me as they momentarily say hello before flitting/ fluttering off. Beautiful, glowing lights dance about, filling my heart with a peaceful joy, subtle yet evidently present. This is the moment I know my fairies are nearby, to keep me company & ensure my safety. I see them for a fleeting moment; they want me to know they’re here. When their physical appearance vanishes, I can feel their presence, their energy, their vibrations, comforting & reasurring me. Anytime I grow fearful & doubt their presence, they re-emerge to remind me, & then they disappear into the atmosphere once again. (They remind me of the fairies in Sleeping Beauty because of the different glowing colours.)

Meeting Bambi

My gaze leans towards the right, &, across the stream, standing there, occasionally squatting to play at the edge of the water, is nine year-old me. Her name is Bambi, which is clear for the first time. I freeze in a fearful shock, unsure of how to respond to this precious little girl. I don’t know how to approach her; I have no clue what to say to her. Out of seemingly nowhere, I hear wind chimes. They call me home, singing the song of my soul back to me so that I might remember who I am. My anxiety dissipates, my true self, Kristin, emerging once again. Their dance in the wind sings me home. With this peace & comfort in mind, I approach the little girl who goes by Bambi, my fairies at my side the entire time.

Bambi

I stand beside her by the stream. She continues to play in the water without initiating a conversation with me, although she occasionally glances up at me with a carefree smile. It’s clear she has zero anxiety, no stress, no worries—no fear. She’s spontaneous, flexible, & doesn’t take things personally. Her lighthearted charm emanates from her, her vibrational frequency calming my apprehensive spirit. I attempt to ask her questions, hoping to learn about my internal family system through her knowledge. The system, uncomfortable with this interrogation, begins to spastically glitch rather severely, the audio & visual of this journey growing fuzzy & blurry, almost like watching an extremely poor television connection. Recognizing the ineffectiveness of this approach, I back up, intentionally choosing to peacefully reside in her presence without raising any questions. “I’ll just be with you,” I decide, “here, by the water in this forest, purely in this moment.”

Enjoying Bambi's Company

Bambi appreciates this approach & we immediately ease into each other’s presence. We play in the water together, enjoying each other’s company. Our laughter echoes through the forest, lighting up the air with beautifully positive vibrations, critters from all around peeking out to see where such light might originate from. Our arms embrace each other in a loving hug. “I love you,” I said. She reciprocated the affectionate remark, causing my smile to widen across my happy face. Behind Bambi, back several paces, stands about a dozen shadows of people, all fairly young. They are silhouettes, standing in their own dimension yet visible to us at the same time. Bambi explains that they are my “others.” “I want to meet them.” “It’s not time yet.” Bambi explains that we can’t push it & force this encounter to occur, that they won’t listen to either of us & it’s best not to upset them. “They don’t listen to me,” she comments, a sad expression in her tone. The others are all afraid; they’re unwilling to change & increase their positivity, she explains, but she’s not. She can’t work with them; that’s the message she communicates to me. But she is willing to work with me, with the little power she possesses within our system. Since there is nothing I can do to properly approach the others, I return my attention to my time with Bambi, unsure of how much longer we might have together in this beautiful place. The shadows of my other parts keep watch over us as we lay together in the short grass by the stream & rest. They will stay silent & in the background, only communicating with us if our lives are in legitimate danger. Calm, relaxed, & even sleepy, we cuddle on the grass, our heads touching as we lay on the soft soil & take a nap together. I have not experienced such a peaceful, truly beautiful moment in a very long while.

Jungle Beach Farewell

When I awake from this nap, I am on a beach, standing alone. The scene is absolutely stunning, completely captivating, overwhelmingly gorgeous. Yet I am unable to enjoy it because I am confused, terrified about being alone, frantically wondering where Bambi might be.

“I need you!” I cry out. “I need you, Bambi. I need your sense of adventure; I need your fearlessness; I need YOU.” Magnetic gratitude overflows in this moment, the fear of being apart from Bambi c