It's possible to live very close to somebody and not know them. Supposing time stands still for me. Aye, there's the rub. I'm going to stop it at a certain point and proceed no further. So it could stop when you are eight or it could stop when you are fifteen, but I not going to tell you. You have to find out.
Ah! Shamanism is being in the stream of life, nothing more. If you're stuck at a certain point, or parts of you got stukken at some point, then you're not going any further. But the stream moves on and eventually you must catch up with it. Do it how you like. I do not care. My own way was not to care but to swim. I liked it best when I could splash around a lot. But now I have become ...Germanic.
But if you get stuck, do not worry. Just keep up some motion and somebody is bound to find you there. When I was a child, I used to go to school my horse and my teacher said it doesn't matter how many times that horse bucks you off. You've got to get back on that horse. But the shift from trot to canter never worked out on that horse. That horse had three speeds. It could walk and it could trot. And then its final speed, which I experienced once, was a straight out gallop. That's because this horse was afraid of being left behind. By another horse. But this horse had only a tiny paddock and would never gallop. Except on this day he did. So my friend, Nicky, said, do you want to canter back across the vlei. I said sure I did. So she began cantering and then suddenly it became a race. I don't know how it became a race but it did. And my father said, if a horse is ever running away with you, you need to grind hard on the bit, first to the left and then the right and he will stop. But this horse didn't. And his body was like a barrel because he never used to run, a very stiff and jaunty barrel. It was like a barrel contracting and expanding through the air, and I held on tightly for I was bareback and I almost felt as if the barrel would move faster under me than I was moving and I would fall off any minute, but that didn't seem to happen. And we went straight for an ant hill, me holding tufts of mane to steady myself. Then a last minute swerve and after two or three minutes, I still hadn't fallen off.
But that was then and this is now. And now I don't go racing round on horseback through a semi-rural suburbia. I don't cross the vlei, although I once did.
And the teacher said, although he bucks you off each time you ask him to canter, we can still try and he might learn, so we went around the school, trot, trot, trot, and she asked the horse to canter. She said, "canter-on" and so I gave the signal and the horse put his head down and bucked me off again. And so the teacher said, keep his head up next time, and so I tried it, but the horse kept his head up and bucked me off. And each time I got a bit more gravel embedded in my hand, although I said I was okay, and felt a little shaken.
That was then and this is now. I don't have a horse but I have my sanity. I ride around on it and push it to top gear.
But I didn't get stuck at that time when I was one or two, I don't think that characterizes my identity. Although it would be infantalising to think so. Which is probably a good thing, if one's trying to get power.
It's just an intellectual concept really, notions and paradigms that don't catch up with reality. So I didn't fall off on that day, although I was breathless. And on that day, I realized life was truly beautiful and that although I could see the turf I crossed over I loved it very much.
It just went too quickly. So I got off my horse and patted him down, and he was sweating like a monster, afraid of being left behind. I brushed him down and took care of him.
And my mother bought me an ice-cream although her mind was elsewhere and didn't know what this was to celebrate although I did. I never had an ice-cream. In Borrowdale. That was rare.
And so I didn't fall off on that day, although I could have. Because I had fallen off many times before and this was my lucky day.
Ah! Shamanism is being in the stream of life, nothing more. If you're stuck at a certain point, or parts of you got stukken at some point, then you're not going any further. But the stream moves on and eventually you must catch up with it. Do it how you like. I do not care. My own way was not to care but to swim. I liked it best when I could splash around a lot. But now I have become ...Germanic.
But if you get stuck, do not worry. Just keep up some motion and somebody is bound to find you there. When I was a child, I used to go to school my horse and my teacher said it doesn't matter how many times that horse bucks you off. You've got to get back on that horse. But the shift from trot to canter never worked out on that horse. That horse had three speeds. It could walk and it could trot. And then its final speed, which I experienced once, was a straight out gallop. That's because this horse was afraid of being left behind. By another horse. But this horse had only a tiny paddock and would never gallop. Except on this day he did. So my friend, Nicky, said, do you want to canter back across the vlei. I said sure I did. So she began cantering and then suddenly it became a race. I don't know how it became a race but it did. And my father said, if a horse is ever running away with you, you need to grind hard on the bit, first to the left and then the right and he will stop. But this horse didn't. And his body was like a barrel because he never used to run, a very stiff and jaunty barrel. It was like a barrel contracting and expanding through the air, and I held on tightly for I was bareback and I almost felt as if the barrel would move faster under me than I was moving and I would fall off any minute, but that didn't seem to happen. And we went straight for an ant hill, me holding tufts of mane to steady myself. Then a last minute swerve and after two or three minutes, I still hadn't fallen off.
But that was then and this is now. And now I don't go racing round on horseback through a semi-rural suburbia. I don't cross the vlei, although I once did.
And the teacher said, although he bucks you off each time you ask him to canter, we can still try and he might learn, so we went around the school, trot, trot, trot, and she asked the horse to canter. She said, "canter-on" and so I gave the signal and the horse put his head down and bucked me off again. And so the teacher said, keep his head up next time, and so I tried it, but the horse kept his head up and bucked me off. And each time I got a bit more gravel embedded in my hand, although I said I was okay, and felt a little shaken.
That was then and this is now. I don't have a horse but I have my sanity. I ride around on it and push it to top gear.
But I didn't get stuck at that time when I was one or two, I don't think that characterizes my identity. Although it would be infantalising to think so. Which is probably a good thing, if one's trying to get power.
It's just an intellectual concept really, notions and paradigms that don't catch up with reality. So I didn't fall off on that day, although I was breathless. And on that day, I realized life was truly beautiful and that although I could see the turf I crossed over I loved it very much.
It just went too quickly. So I got off my horse and patted him down, and he was sweating like a monster, afraid of being left behind. I brushed him down and took care of him.
And my mother bought me an ice-cream although her mind was elsewhere and didn't know what this was to celebrate although I did. I never had an ice-cream. In Borrowdale. That was rare.
And so I didn't fall off on that day, although I could have. Because I had fallen off many times before and this was my lucky day.
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