Last night, a spiraled light it caught and submerged me-- carrying far off all my fears.
My drum-pulsed heart was flying.
I rose and weaved my airy way among jagged mountain rock-- my path opening, opening
until a high-arched gate appeared, laced with colored flags and I moved through it and beyond.
In a while I saw among distant shadows of villagers and wisps of smoke a child there, sitting, her back to me.
Are you my teacher? Yes, she said, though not with words.
What do you have to teach me? Be simple.
this is a generalization account of an "upper world journey" I took the night before. this is what happened. shamanic journeying with a drum pulse as "vehicle" is a technology. Seek out a highly trained practioner as a guide...if you wish to travel. Anyone who studied with Michael Harner (now transitioned) is a ringer! I am not permitted to be a guide for others.