How Much Do I Share? Vision in Myanmar

I hold precious, unexplainable, and dear morsels of knowledge close to my heart, afraid to lose their magic if I speak of them. Any good story, after the second retelling, looses its sparkle. Maybe that’s why stories of painful childbirth seem to require exaggeration with each retelling. The passage of time also saps one’s ability to hold onto magic. Magic is fragile.

Shamanism has been systematically wiped from most of the earth. It’s practitioners have been infamously slain. Another reason to stay in the closet.

In recent years, a few champions had stepped forward to rekindle this human light by sharing their knowledge.

I sometimes feel proud and special that I have undertaken so many arduous and mostly unsupported efforts to learn about shamanism and inner wisdom. I see the ability to heal, know the unseen, and many of the other gifts of shamanism as signposts on the road to inner wisdom.

Other times I feel stupid and foolish that I have not done more on either the shamanic path or the worker path. I want to hold each hard-won bit of knowledge close and guard it jealously. But, I’m not in charge.

About two years ago I was in Mandalay, Myanmar with a small group of travelers. We were scheduled to visit a history museum in the morning and a textile museum in the afternoon. After spending the morning at the history museum, we arrived at the textile museum and it was closed. Our guide hastily directed us to a nearby history museum. It was much simpler and less informative than the one we saw that morning. I was anxious to leave.

The Diorama

During the reign of King Kyanzittha between 1084- and 1112 Myanmar (then called Burma) enjoyed an unusual time of prosperity for this country located at the often contested crossroad between India, China, and Cambodia. During King Kyanzittha’s reign, Burma had adopted Theravada Buddhism. King Kyanzittha invited Buddhist scholars from much of southeast Asia to a conference to compare and standardize Buddhist texts. The wise king knew these countries would not attack while their religious leaders where in Burma. It was during this time that most of the great temples near Bagan were built.

I walked, bored and impatient, down halls peopled mostly with young students. My eyes wandered to a diorama depicting this large group of scholars/monks with their parchment tablets on their laps. I believe I recognized it as referring to King Kyanzittha’s conference, from a history lessons I had received that morning. One monk sat on a small dais, a tiny step higher than the others.

As my eyes wandered aimlessly over this diorama, I heard a voice say, “that is you”. A calling reached out and grabbed me. I instantly knew I was to share what I had learned with others. I was flooded with humility and the understanding that this mean supporting others so their inherent light could shine. I was flushed with excitement. Tears stung my eyes. I wordlessly savored this knowledge. And, of course, I had no idea what it meant.

In the months since, I have continued to travel, heal, earn a living, and teach if asked. I have watched for a way to support others in their learning, sharing what I could. This website is part of that effort. I am holding a space for each of you to let your light shine.