Quirky Contemplations: Expanded Consciousness Gift Shops

Today is Black Friday.  As one might expect, the name did not originate as a term of endearment.  I’m going to suggest we begin a new tradition: White Friday.

White Friday is the spiritual alternative to the material bargain hunting of Black Friday – the day after Thanks-giving, when spiritual practitioners can “shop” for a spirit or spiritual gift.  When we’re well fed with thanks for bounty, it might make a good time to consider the act of giving.  Certainly merchandisers are encouraging it.  So are the better angels of our nature.  You don’t have to leave home to go shopping (although you could, if you wanted, visit a sacred place to aid your venture).  Spirit helpers are standing by to offer their assistance.

With the Holiday Season (formally known as Christmas) officially approaching, you might want to consider visiting one of our fine expanded consciousness gift stores.  There, you will find “the perfect gift” for your friend or loved ones.  Bargains are available in a wide range of spirit gifts at this time of year, when consensus reality intentions inflate the value of your precious attention.  Gift-wrapping and special delivery are still available.

Seriously, with all the psychic attention generated in consensus reality shopping on Black Friday, it’s just a U-turn to gather momentum and negotiate the road less traveled.  Your gift may be broad and without need for definition: Good Will or “best possible outcome” wishing.  Or you may find a symbolic transmission for Luck, Love, or Livelihood.  Maybe you’ll find an embrace or forgiveness.  You might actually find the “true meaning of the season” – how to engage with a cycle of re-birth.  You’re not trying to perform a miracle, you’re just trying to connect with…

Just a moment…

Shifting into Reflections

Michael Harner once said that the original Santa Claus may have been related to the shaman delivering spirit gifts down the chimney (or smoke vent) from the Upperworld.  I’ve never been able to confirm it.  But I’m willing to pass it on as plausible speculation.  Who wouldn’t want a candle in their house lit by a jolly and compassionate spirit.

Just a moment…
I appreciate your patience.

Shifting into memory…

For years I took the notion of “invisible” shamanic gifts seriously.  I would drum good will toward my friends and family.  That was the gift.  I still try to bring my practice to the celebration, but I’m not as intentional as I once was in this regard.  Sometimes writing informs the eyes.

I love the idea expressed by Rumi:

Be the type of person that, when you walk into a room,
luck flows to the person who needs it most.

So, I would literally drum up Christmas gifts.  When my parents were both gone, I wrote the following poem:

Christmas Feathers

I have walked through a forest full of feathers,
gathering gifts I cannot wrap in a box with ribbon –
arriving at the celebration with an armful of wing-beat,
and a merry box of chocolates as tangible backup.
I want folks to claim the invisible plume,
but often they prefer the melt in their mouth.

Once, for Christmas,
I gave my mother a package of powdered sugar,
all wrapped and tidy, pretending to be something exotic.
By that time, my mother no longer expected
the conventional from me.
I was the gift, her prodigal son come home,
filled with philosophy and the poetry of clouds.
We developed a genuine friendship.
And the cookies she made with that sugar were delicious.

Recently, my father has died,
and my mother’s mind has gone to ground.
They have flown off together.
Sometimes, tired and alone, I hear the sound
of two leaves falling – brown and wrinkled,
then white with light and covering the soil.

If you watch a tree in fall, you’ll notice that leaves
don’t drop off the branches all at once.  A few
here, a gust of wind there, gradually, until
a season’s memory blankets the land.

I grieve my losses a leaf at a time
to prevent my having to bury the trees.

Then I go outside to feed the spirit birds,
to keep the gifts alive.  Nourishment flows
through the connection at the edge of Otherworld.
Come Christmas, I wonder if it will snow powdered sugar.

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