Waking the Unconscious Curandera

There is a powerful healer in me. Unfortunately, sometimes I don’t feed her. I neglect to give her a daily dosage of beauty, rest, quiet, wilderness and mystery – not the kind of unknown that leads to fear and anxiety. No, my curandera craves the exquisite trust and majesty of a star-glittered path unfolding inexplicably before her. She will have consistent flow of childlike wonder… or else.

When I don’t feed my curandera she gets cranky and depressed. She dries up like cracked adobe in the hot desert sun. She recluses deep within me, and over her glorious, unique light, society paints an image of how I can best fit into their mold. I trade my hippie skirts for pleated pants and swap funky shirts with stains from a road trip for silk blouses and matching jackets. I am disconnected from all that is sacred.

About the time I can no longer recognize myself, she decides enough is enough. She sends dreams to invade my sleep with fire-breathing dragons that threaten my children. She scares the holy hell out of me by giving me enough rope to hang myself with rash, unpredictable self-sabotaging behaviors. And then, finally, gratefully, my curandera speaks to me….

I walked slowly along the sandy path through the butterfly garden, drinking in the smells, sounds and sights of the Los Rios District. I enfolded myself in more than 200 years of family history with ghost whispers, white washed adobe, crawling vines, sage, and ancient pepper trees with hanging leafy branches. I could feel myself edging closer to breaking free from the fear and shame that had encased me since I stopped feeding my curandera, my most wise and bright self. I closed my eyes for a second and when I opened them I stood in front of an unopened sunflower that literally spoke to me.

“We all grow best with attention,” the words dropped into my consciousness and rested heavy on my shoulders, while at the same time lifted a weight crushing my heart.

I recalled how the plants grew exponentially bigger with concentrated attention during the Findhorn Experience. Call it Quantum Physics that organisms respond with attention. Call it the Buddhist Namaste, the Divine in Me Sees the Divine in You, Call it Native Spirituality that speaks to the Great Mystery that Connects us All.

I had shamed myself into a corner because I had unsuccessfully sought attention from the wrong sources and in the process had neglected the most powerful part of myself. In that moment, the paradigm shifted as I re-membered my soul by accepting the Divine Truth that receiving acknowledgment from other sentient beings is how we blossom.

And then my curandera woke up, and we walked through the garden together.