Tag: Fiction

At one point the following was Chapter 6. It’ll still be in the finished novel, simply not sure where at this point. Enjoy

Read Shaman Story Chapter X – The Wild, The Shadows.

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His last few years Grandpa and I traveled. Not far, though. I don’t remember it as “far.” He took me to meet his friends and we talked about what Grandpa was teaching me. They loved to have me show them. I made mistakes, most of them harmless. Others, not so harmless. I didn’t understand. Grandpa wanted me to learn and knew something I didn’t; he didn’t have much time left.

Hence taking me to his friends, knowing they’d take over, they’d continue teaching me when he passed. They were my training wheels.

Everything to them was joyful. Everything came with a laugh. And always with you, never at you. Never arguments, never disagreements. Never “do it this way” or “do it that way.” Their corrections took the form “It might work better this way” or “What happens if you do it that way?” Always the encouragement to find your own way to do it, to find your own path, and always happy to have you for a while on their path or take part in your path for a while.

Each visit dealt with a lesson. Grandpa often said “We need to see John. John knows about this.” or “We should go visit Running Water. She knows how to do this.” or “That’s something Chan does better than me. Let’s ask him to show you how it’s done.”

Grandpa knew he didn’t know it all. He had no problem admitting ignorance. He said not knowing is a great gift; if you know you don’t know, you can decide to learn. If you know you know, you’ve already decided not to learn. “Never be afraid and never be ashamed if you don’t know something, Gio. When you admit you don’t know, that’s when you learn.”

Each of them did the basics pretty much the same way. There’s some variation, but Lower-Center-Relax-Breathe is Lower-Center-Relax-Breathe is Lower-Center-Relax-Breathe. I thought there was one door and learned there are many. Some people always go through the same door to start and then there’s other doors on the other side. Some people go through their Childhood Door only when they need to. They find other doors to different places they need to go. Some people can control their doors so that one becomes many and many becomes one.

But you never let someone enter your door and you never follow someone through their door, even if they ask. You can, I’ve met some people who’ve done so. I’ve met some people who were pulled through someone else’s door. That’s a defense and usually used by the weak, those who don’t know more or other.

When it’s an accident, someone has to go find them. Hence Grandpa playing Hide-and-Seek with me.

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[I mentioned in Shaman Story Chapter 5 – Lessons that chapter numbering would get wonky as Shaman Story is a work in progress. This week’s entry bears that out, as it comes before chapter 6 and after chapter 5. So far. I think.]

Read Shaman Story Chapter 5 – Lessons.

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Grandpa teaches me about Shadows. We walk through a forest and greet everyone we meet. “Hello, Tree! Hello, Ash! Hello, Ant! Hello, Spider!”

“Do you know who these are, Gio?”

“These are my friends.”

Grandpa smiles. “Yes, they are your friends. They are also Shadows.”

“Shadows?”

“Yes. Everything here is a shadow of what really is.”

“The tree is not a tree?”

“The tree,” he points, “Is not Tree.”

“It’s a maple.”

He laughs. “That maple tree is not Maple.”

I hear the emphasis in his words.

“In all things, there is one which is the first of that thing. Everything else is a shadow of that first.”

I watch a snail inching up a birch. “Where is Snail, then?”

“A place of such brilliance it casts it shadow so every other snail exists.”

“But where, Grandpa?”

“Home.”

A simple word. I hear the emphasis. Not where Grandma sits spinning threads, weaving, making me clothes. Some place other.

I put my hand by the snail. Its antennae tickle me. It waves them at me to see who I am. “Hello, Gio.”

“It knows who I am, Grandpa!”

“This is The Wild, Gio. Everything is known here. When you want to know something, go to The Wild. If there is an answer, you’ll find it.”

A raven comes. It flaps by the snail, snatching it in its beak, flying away.”

I cry.

“That is the way of The Wild, Gio.”

“That snail was my friend.”

“Is raven your friend?”

I sniffle. “Yes.”

“And the birch tree?”

“Yes.”

“But sometimes we cut down a tree for firewood. We load up the truck and take it home.”

I am confused and answer slowly. “Yes.”

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