Justice To A Shaman

Justice Of A Shaman

A shaman survives based off of their own perception. To them, the world is a place filled with two kinds of entities, good spirits and evil spirits. To a shaman, each creature is possessed by a spirit that seeks to do goodwill to their fellow earthling, or, to do harm to those who are unprivy. Sadly, my general perception places man as a creature overtaken by greed. To seek justice, I must carry an undying torch, lighting the pathways in the night. My virtue is simply not enough to last in a cruel and unforgiving world.

Justice is widely thought as merely a system to punish criminals here in the west. However, with a police department overly distracted by the Coronavirus, we are perhaps unsafe in our own homes. Cut off both from social interaction and the living, breathing, world around us, we are locked down and potentially victims from those who would have nothing better to do. As I've stated, a shaman is a creature of wit, with his spirits trained to defend him, in both physical and emotional turmoil. Fourteen years ago, I was nothing more than a young man, devoid of the idea of how many perils lurked around me. I would foolishly believe that the world's institutions instated around me could deflect what chaos threatened to swallow me whole. Now, I am fully aware of what happens when man has too much time on their hands. They wish to steal, rape, and kill, no better than the villianous pirates of old. I arm myself with wisdom and a keen sense of my surroundings to combat the wicked foes who knock on my own door, horned sheep who are unaware of the savage wolf that dwells in the cave. I am ready to fight those who have been left to prey on humanity. Knowing that I am one man in this large world strickens me. As mentioned, I am not alien to compassion. Defense of my people remains a persistent priority to me.

Victims are made by barbarous hands. Heroes are made thus by the same hands. Those who would persecute me and my family are the ones I yearn to hunt. If I become the hunter, I would lose face of my humanity. I remain patient, praying to whatever Gods would hear me. I will not simply go quietly. I will fight with all that I have, the scoundrel hidden amongst my kind. Poetic prose and study alike has sharpened my mind into a sufficient killing tool. I rise up against those who would condemn me, silencing the would be assailant.

Justice is blind. Everyone has heard that. Does that mean it also cannot detect what breathes around the righteous? How are we to combat what cannot be easily seen, or perhaps not even heard? We must realize shamanism, and its prestigious path. Everyone can become a shaman. Fewer still believe in it, and even less so does one become it. To fight the denizens obscured by the darkness we must become attune to the spirits that drive them to their madness. We are not alone in this world, as I've found that ancestral spirits protect our kin, often unaware of their presence. The spirits guarding us take flight away from us when we wish to harm those of stronger mindset. We cannot fight a foe who can easily vanquish us. Wolves armed with tooth and claw are too great for those of immature experience. A wolf is the grand symbol of veterancy. The wolf is an intelligent being that guards its own pack. We are never alone in this life. We are products of our own deeds, them being overseen by a benevolent creator spirit, one of both masculine and feminine quality. Where the Christians call him YAWH, the wiccans call her Gaea. The divine one's identity remains different to each sect, but their quality of an everlasting thirst for justice remains the same.

I cannot vouch for the unjust, as I am an imperfect being. I cannot also turn a blind eye to COVID and its isolatory state. For those of you who have asthma out there, COVID is a persisitant reality. By taking the time to read the words of the rest of the world, I am conscious of those who would suffer. I will say that the police will help you little in these trying times. Turn your eyes to the face of the ancestral spirits, and you will know protection. Pursue freedom, and live your lives as if each day is your last. Only in the terms of finality are we to discover true alleviation. If I were to die tomorrow, I would not leave behind one regret. My heart is nurtured to care for justice, and to seek an end to evil. My body is nothing of a concern of mine, as I've accepted this mortal shell's binding qualities. Stay safe, stay healthy, but remember, not a soul dies without leaving behind a legacy. We are slaves to a system where few prosper, and even fewer during this pandemic. Do not feel as if you are captive in your own homes, but, instead, make the best of it. Walk your dog, play with your cat, do some gardening, work on a spiritual project, or even create some magnificent art. There's a life to be lived even while the rest of the world slumbers. Know peace, and you will conquer even the tallest of all mountains.

InJustice To A Shaman

A shaman survives based off of their own perception. To them, the world is a place filled with two kinds of entities, good spirits and evil spirits. To a shaman, each creature is possessed by a spirit that seeks to do goodwill to their fellow earthling, or, to do harm to those who are unprivy. Sadly, my general perception places man as a creature overtaken by greed. To seek justice, I must carry an undying torch, lighting the pathways in the night. My virtue is simply not enough to last in a cruel and unforgiving world.

Justice is widely thought as merely a system to punish criminals here in the west. However, with a police department overly distracted by the Coronavirus, we are perhaps unsafe in our own homes. Cut off both from social interaction and the living, breathing, world around us, we are locked down and potentially victims from those who would have nothing better to do. As I've stated, a shaman is a creature of wit, with his spirits trained to defend him, in both physical and emotional turmoil. Fourteen years ago, I was nothing more than a young man, devoid of the idea of how many perils lurked around me. I would foolishly believe that the world's institutions instated around me could deflect what chaos threatened to swallow me whole. Now, I am fully aware of what happens when man has too much time on their hands. They wish to steal, rape, and kill, no better than the villianous pirates of old. I arm myself with wisdom and a keen sense of my surroundings to combat the wicked foes who knock on my own door, horned sheep who are unaware of the savage wolf that dwells in the cave. I am ready to fight those who have been left to prey on humanity. Knowing that I am one man in this large world strickens me. As mentioned, I am not alien to compassion. Defense of my people remains a persistent priority to me.

Victims are made by barbarous hands. Heroes are made thus by the same hands. Those who would persecute me and my family are the ones I yearn to hunt. If I become the hunter, I would lose face of my humanity. I remain patient, praying to whatever Gods would hear me. I will not simply go quietly. I will fight with all that I have, the scoundrel hidden amongst my kind. Poetic prose and study alike has sharpened my mind into a sufficient killing tool. I rise up against those who would condemn me, silencing the would be assailant.

Justice is blind. Everyone has heard that. Does that mean it also cannot detect what breathes around the righteous? How are we to combat what cannot be easily seen, or perhaps not even heard? We must realize shamanism, and its prestigious path. Everyone can become a shaman. Fewer still believe in it, and even less so does one become it. To fight the denizens obscured by the darkness we must become attune to the spirits that drive them to their madness. We are not alone in this world, as I've found that ancestral spirits protect our kin, often unaware of their presence. The spirits guarding us take flight away from us when we wish to harm those of stronger mindset. We cannot fight a foe who can easily vanquish us. Wolves armed with tooth and claw are too great for those of immature experience. A wolf is the grand symbol of veterancy. The wolf is an intelligent being that guards its own pack. We are never alone in this life. We are products of our own deeds, them being overseen by a benevolent creator spirit, one of both masculine and feminine quality. Where the Christians call him YAWH, the wiccans call her Gaea. The divine one's identity remains different to each sect, but their quality of an everlasting thirst for justice remains the same.

I cannot vouch for the unjust, as I am an imperfect being. I cannot also turn a blind eye to COVID and its isolatory state. For those of you who have asthma out there, COVID is a persisitant reality. By taking the time to read the words of the rest of the world, I am conscious of those who would suffer. I will say that the police will help you little in these trying times. Turn your eyes to the face of the ancestral spirits, and you will know protection. Pursue freedom, and live your lives as if each day is your last. Only in the terms of finality are we to discover true alleviation. If I were to die tomorrow, I would not leave behind one regret. My heart is nurtured to care for justice, and to seek an end to evil. My body is nothing of a concern of mine, as I've accepted this mortal shell's binding qualities. Stay safe, stay healthy, but remember, not a soul dies without leaving behind a legacy. We are slaves to a system where few prosper, and even fewer during this pandemic. Do not feel as if you are captive in your own homes, but, instead, make the best of it. Walk your dog, play with your cat, do some gardening, work on a spiritual project, or even create some magnificent art. There's a life to be lived even while the rest of the world slumbers. Know peace, and you will conquer even the tallest of all mountains.

In this post I referanced a dear friend, who I'd love it if you followed online. You can find her page on Facebook as Ashborn Witch, and find her on Instagram @wiccalifestyle and @ashbornwitch