CHAPTER 12: Shamanic Magic Lies
“Seers will be put to shame. Those who practice witchcraft will be disgraced. All of them will cover their faces, because God won’t answer them.”–Micah 3:7
The last week in Seattle was a whirlwind of events. I had to figure out a lot of details if I was going to move back home. First and foremost, I wasn’t sure how I was going to navigate the summertime heat. I couldn’t exactly drive home because even in a car, the air conditioning didn’t always cool the vehicle down on a really hot day. I considered driving at night, but decided that sounded too complicated.
Panicking, I decided to reach out to my first-love from college, James. We had parted as friends, and agreed to call each other if we ever needed. Well, this was one situation where I truly needed an ally. I didn’t consider asking Tommy for help, not after how I’d rejected him years ago. No. I needed someone with whom I had history, and that’s exactly what James and I had. I was also a bit embarrassed that my life was unraveling yet again, and I felt like it wouldn’t be hugely appealing if I called Tommy during a messy place in my life. Instead, I only wanted to present myself as a powerful and strong woman to him. I decided that calling James was the best choice, as he had already seen me at my worst and had loved me once.
After telling James about my predicament, I was amazed that he graciously offered to fly to Seattle and help me. He had even offered to drive my car back home to Oklahoma for me, and in return I would pay for all his gas. He said he felt guilty for not understanding my health issues regarding the heat stroke, and he had been experiencing some recent health problems of his own. I got the sense he wanted to make amends, and I was very grateful at how this was all working out. With James on the way to Seattle, I decided to purchase a plane ticket for my return home. I was going to fly my cat and myself back to Oklahoma. All the arrangements had been made, and I could relax a bit.
Two days later, I picked up James from the airport. His flight arrived late in the evening, and I had already begun planning some fun events for his itinerary while in Seattle. Eager to show him the sights, I had heard that the Starlight bookstore was hosting a shamanic healing ceremony the next day, and I couldn’t believe my good fortune. This seemed like a perfect chance to show him some of the spiritual paths I had been exploring. He had agreed that it sounded interesting, and replied that he was always up for something new. James was an agnostic intellectual type, but he somehow didn’t feel threatened by the idea of shamanism or new-age style spirituality.
When we got to the bookstore the next day, there were 8 people gathered in the back conference room, and we were told to sit down to form a circle. We sat down in formation, and awaited instruction. Most of us looked clueless but excited to be participating in something interesting. Then, a sage bundle was passed around the circle and we were encouraged to blow the smoke around each other to cleanse our energies. This was an important element of the new age, ‘saging’ oneself or the house to remove negative entities.
I would discover years later that nothing rebukes demons except the name of Jesus Christ, but back then I believed in the many rituals designed to protect me. The trouble was, these rituals never did protect me at all. They were all part of the lie.
Suddenly Jess, the owner of the store, entered the back room carrying a pink candle in her hands. She told us that we were going to do a special manifestation ceremony. We were supposed to think of one thing that we wanted most in our lives, and then etch it onto the candle with a pencil. The candle was then passed around the circle, and each person carved their one wish into the candle wax, careful not to write over someone else’s wish. I decided to write down the word acceptance, hoping it would bring me true peace about my childhood and the trauma I couldn’t seem to forget. Then, Jess brandished a large wooden stick of some kind. The stick had been decorated with ribbons and different colorful items. It was called a ‘spirit stick’, and we were going to pass it around the circle and chant something while the candle was burning. The words for the chant were sent around the circle for us to read and then speak them in unison. I was surprised the words mentioned something called ‘White Buffalo Woman’, which was a Native American goddess I had recently been reading about. I took this as another sign I was on the right spiritual path.
When everyone was finished writing their intentions upon the candle, Jess ignited the wick, and we all began to chant in the circle. We were all smiling and having a wonderful time, and after the ceremony was complete Jess picked up the candle and informed the group that she would be burying it in her backyard under the full moon that night. She educated us that burying the candle in the earth under a full moon would allow our wishes to be charged with the full power of the moon’s rays.
Looking back, I had just participated in my first ‘goddess circle’, which was essentially a witches’ coven, and I had just performed what wiccans call ‘candle magic’. To top it off, we had invoked assistance from a ‘goddess’ called White Buffalo Woman, but it just seemed like a harmless ritual to me back then.
I didn’t understand that pagan rituals called on other gods that were actually demons.
At that time, I was fascinated with how Native spirituality seemed so similar to Wicca. Not all wiccans did spells, and not all Native Americans did them either. However, I wanted to learn what these spells and rituals were all about. They promised to reveal the secrets that had been hidden. Who were the ancestors, the helpful spirit guides? What was shapeshifting? I wondered. Could I become a shaman and shape-shift? It all fascinated me. Again, I didn’t really see this at odds with Jesus then, mainly because the Native spiritual books mentioned something called Christ Consciousness, and because of that I felt this was safe. Jesus performed powerful signs and wonders, and so Jesus must have known all about these mystical practices. I wanted to learn the truth about this. I had read that Jesus declared we would be able to walk on water just like He did, so maybe the church had intentionally hid this esoteric information from humans so we couldn’t have that same power. Didn’t Jesus want us to be like Him? I rationed.
I would later learn that the ancestors and spirit guides were all demons masquerading as angels of light.
What’s more, the notion of Jesus as a shaman, light-worker, yogi, or mystic is what’s called ‘Christ Consciousness’–the idea that Jesus ascended to achieve Enlightenment, and that we can all use mystical practices to do the same. This is not the real Jesus at all. The real Jesus asked us to humble ourselves to the will of God and repent of our sins to enter heaven. The Christ Consciousness made Jesus out to be yet another ‘enlightened being’ who we could be on the same level as him.
This very concept of enlightened knowledge wasn’t from the Bible. It was from spirits claiming to be angels, yet denying and twisting the word of the Lord. The enlightened knowledge that Siddhartha and others received from meditation is not from Jehovah God; it is from the imitation kingdom of Lucifer.
I mistakenly assumed that I could blend eastern mystical belief systems with my belief in Jesus, and that would result in the same path to ‘heavenly knowledge’. I thought as long as the word if someone used the word ‘Christian’ or talked about Jesus…then it must be of God. I was about to learn how wrong I was in my thinking.
After the ritual, I was very surprised to see that James actually enjoyed himself. He had a huge grin on his face afterwards, and I was so pleased we had found something new and fun that reunited us as friends. As we were processing what just happened, I recognized someone I know from my Tarot class. Her name was Fawn, and she and her husband Jerry were both at the ceremony. I didn’t have the courage to strike up a friendship with her before then, but I felt emboldened now that I had a friend with me. After I introduced them to James, we all began to talk and realized how much we had in common. So, when I told Fawn that I only had a few days left in Seattle, she seemed disappointed. She told me that she wanted to create a meaningful farewell experience for me in my last days there, and that I should call her tomorrow. Moved by that gesture, we agreed to meet up the next day.
The next morning, James and I decided to walk up the street to the nearby coffee shop for breakfast. We took the giant outdoor staircase which led us to the back alleyway. It was a shorter walk to the shop from there. We spent the morning enjoying our coffee and donuts and chatting about how interesting the shamanic circle experience had been for us, when suddenly I remembered I needed to call Fawn. Stepping outside, I made the call and Fawn answered the phone with a cheery greeting. “Michal! Blessings, it’s so great to hear from you. I have a plan for your departure. Do you have a pen and paper to write something down?” She then gave me a number for a woman in Bellevue who performs past life regressions, and Fawn had already paid for the session as a gift to me. All I needed to do was schedule the appointment. I remember feeling so grateful I had met Fawn, and also a little sad to be leaving now that I had a good friend. I hung up the phone, and went back inside the coffee shop to tell James the good news.
As it happened, I called the number Fawn gave me, and the past-life practitioner had an opening that very day at 3pm. How fortuitous! I thought. I had never done anything quite like this before, and I was very excited to find out more about who I really was in my past life. I felt this woman would finally show me the answers to what I had been searching for. Maybe she could heal the past pain in my family line, the curses of abuse and fear. I hoped she could, and I was very eager to see her.
In the new age, it seemed like people were helping me and wanted to be my friend. This sense of peer approval was very addictive, and only served to reinforce the deception.
James and I finished our coffee, and decided to drive out to Bellevue for the past-life session. As I entered the practitioner’s office, I immediately felt comforted by all the Native American décor on the walls. I myself felt sure I had Native American lineage, and I speculated that I had come from a long line of wise medicine women. The practitioner then had me lay down on the therapy table, which looked much like a massage table. She seemed very nice and non-threatening, so I opened up to her right away. She then began to ask me a series of questions, nothing special per say, just questions about myself and my life. I began to tell her a bit about my issues with men and finding true love. I desperately wanted to find an answer to why I couldn’t seem to have a successful relationship. Then, she grew quiet and began to meditate. She asked me to lie still and focus inwardly on what I saw. At first, I didn’t see anything at all, and so I thought maybe I should try to concentrate harder.
Then, suddenly I began to see an image form in my mind…
I saw an image of a bowl on the ground, an antique bowl made from some sort of stone, and it had red flower petals inside of it. The bowl had fallen to the ground, and all the petals inside of it had scattered onto the street. I suddenly became aware that the woman was me in the past, and she was humiliated. I looked up from the ground and saw a man on a horse, and he wouldn’t help her. Her beautiful flower petals were strewn all over the cobblestone street, and he just stared coldly at her, then rode away. I suddenly felt a profound sadness inside me, but then it was not my sadness; it was the woman who held the bowl. She was grieving something, and her heart was breaking.
Then, I saw an image of a heart beating fast. It was bloody, blood red, and it fell to the floor like the flower petals. She had been cast aside, tossed out like garbage. Her bloody beating heart was cast aside as if it was nothing. I was grieving for her, and my heart was in such pain from these images. Just when I couldn’t bear any more sadness, another image appeared. Now, I saw an old woman. She had piercing eyes that stared at me with an intensity that gave me chills. I didn’t know what she was trying to tell me. She was sitting down on something when she began to shake her legs and feet upwards at me somehow. I didn’t know what it all meant, just that she was trying to tell me something. Suddenly, the woman rolled over. She covered herself with a blanket, and passed away. She had died right there in my vision.
Finally, I couldn’t take any more of this, and so I sat up on the table, back in the office. The practitioner looked at me, calm and serene. I then began to tell her what I had just seen. As I began to tell the story of the broken-hearted woman, the practitioner finished my sentences. She had somehow seen the flowers and the bloody heart on the ground too. How could that be I wondered? I then told her about the old woman, and how she just rolled over and died, withered away under her blanket.
The practitioner told me what I already knew to be ‘true’ (which was really a LIE from Satan): that both of those women were ‘me’ in a past life. The old woman was trying to tell me to live life and not hide under the covers in fear of truly experiencing love. I had been so afraid of getting hurt again that I had become like that old woman. I let love’s pain break me. I remember at that very moment realizing my love life and all the failures weren’t my fault at all. They weren’t a result of the choices I’d made. Instead, I had been a part of a legacy of women who had been hurt by men, and I had to break the pattern.
Suddenly all this ‘truth’ began to click for me. I began to believe this vision and regarded it as ‘divine’ wisdom.
I would later learn it was all part of the deception from Satan. This woman was called a ‘Past Life Practitioner’, but she was in reality she was a Medium allowing demons to speak through her.
God’s truth was counterfeited to blend half-truths and twisted bits of personal information about me to sound like the whole truth. At the time, I had no idea that familiar spirits (demons) are assigned to family lines, and can study us and know intimate details. Mediums can then channel this demonic wisdom and seem like they are giving you hidden information. I had a lot to learn about the new age before finding the Truth. I would also later learn that the Bible specifically addresses this as an abominable sin.
When the session was over, I thanked the practitioner profoundly. I asked her if she would accept a tip, and she refused saying that my friend Fawn had paid her in full. I left the office, and went back to the car where James had been patiently waiting. I told him what happened in the past-life regression, and he listened intently. I was surprised that he didn’t give me a hard time about it, being that this wasn’t really his sort of thing. Instead, he seemed to be legitimately interested in what I was saying.
I remember leaving the woman’s office that day feeling different, almost like I was floating on a cloud. I felt altered in some way, but in a good way, like I just had a massage or drank a couple glasses of wine. It was pleasant. I felt a blissful sort of peace pulsing throughout my very being. This was the false high of the demonic healing, but I would later see the true face of this ‘bliss’.
The next day rolled around, and it was my last full day before I had to catch my plane. Fawn had scheduled a lunch with us to celebrate and discuss how the past life session went. So, James and I drove over to meet Fawn and her husband Jerry for a bite to eat. I told her all about the interesting floaty blissful feeling I had after the session, and she confirmed it was the same for her. Fawn said that I should expect to feel differently for a while, and that was just my neurons rewiring themselves to include the new DNA memories of my past life. It felt so great to have Fawn explain it that way, and I never thought I had done anything dangerous or demonic at that time. I just thought the past life practitioner had a natural gift of ‘sight’ to see what I was seeing, and I didn’t know anything about familiar spirits or spirit guides at that time. In my mind, I had just received a psychic healing from a wise woman who had powers to bring forth buried memories in my subconscious, ancestral memories.
That was how it was all framed for me, similar to hypnotherapy. I thought entering into a trance state wasn’t that big of a deal since hypnotherapy was part of psychology. Had I been told that I was having a session with a ‘medium’ who was ‘channeling’ spirits to show me a lie from a demon…well, I certainly wouldn’t have wanted to do anything like that.
Therein lies the seductive power of the new age. It takes ancient pagan practices forbidden in the Bible for good reason, and it repackages them in new language so that they seem like hidden wisdom meant to heal us and elevate us into ‘higher consciousness’. These are all beautiful lies that sound great and tickle our ears, but in reality hide the deeper darkness therein.
After lunch with Fawn and Jerry, we all decided to go on a little road-trip to the mountains. Fawn wanted to show me some of the most ‘magical’ places in the city. She took us all up to a view in the mountains called Hurricane Ridge, and we had to drive up a long winding mountain road for what seemed like an eternity to get there. The vista was breathtaking, and there were huge bits of misty clouds that actually touched the ground. I remember thinking the mists had a life of their own as they moved along the earth. How lucky I was to notice these things in the spiritual realm. We took some pictures, and walked around a bit. It was difficult to walk too much though, because the altitude was so high.
Next, Fawn took us on a ferry ride—my first ferry ride ever. She really wanted to show me a humpback whale, because I had told her that one of my life goals was to see one of these majestic creatures. We rode around on the ferry for a good hour, but we didn’t end up seeing one that day. We had a blast regardless. Before the day was over, Fawn taught me about orbs, which were little angelic spirits that sometimes appeared in pictures as tiny bubbles, she said. She taught me about so many things that day, and ended up gifting me one of her books about something called MAP Healing. This was where you opened a ‘cone of healing’ inside your mind, and called in something named the White Brotherhood of Ascended Masters and the Deva of Nature Spirits to do a healing session on you. She then gave me one of her large ‘earth keeper’ crystals that I should use when I opened the cone of healing. I had no idea what this was all about, but it sounded fascinating.
I wanted healing from all my issues, and energy work was the next big thing in my opinion. The healthcare world just couldn’t find the answers I needed. Maybe my heat issues could finally be fixed. I remember being so overwhelmed with love from Fawn, and I felt she was a big sister to me and helping me in so many ways. She wanted healing too, and she felt she was giving me all the tools I would need to go back to Tulsa and live my best life, free from the past and any pain I had experienced. That was always the goal, to not dwell in the past but to heal it and move forward, always moving forward to reach higher and higher states of vibration and consciousness.
Years later, I would find out from the Holy Spirit exactly what the ‘Cone of Healing’ and ‘Ascended Masters’ really were, but at this moment in time I was happy in my ignorance. The world of mystical healing was beautiful then. Lovely goddesses and spirits who wanted to help us on this earth. I was enamored with this sparkling magical world.
It wouldn’t be until years later that I would finally see the True face of these spirits. They were not really my allies at all, quite the opposite.