"In Western society, many people associate the word Shaman with a masked and costumed tribal person who dances around the fire in the dark, accompanied by drumbeats, in a naive, mysterious ritual. In reality, however, the individual Shaman -apart from his cultural shell of mask, costume and ritual- possesses a very real skill, one that distinguishes him from other types of religous practitioners.
   All true Shamans are able to achieve expanded states of awareness, visionary perceptions of what tribal people often call the spirit world. They usually exercise this unusual ability to heal members of their communities -spiritually, psychologically, and physically. Directed by strong, altruistic motivations, the traditional Shaman is a master of trance."

Spiritwalker. Messages from the Future. By Hank Wesselman. Bantam New Age press.

  Some have asked how I come to bear the title of Shaman.
I come by it honestly, here is the tale.

  When I first decided to become a Dominatrix, I had been working occasionally on film crews, and and as a freelance commercial artist. Thru my film work I had won a trip to Mexico the previous fall, and so I went off on visionquest to Cancun to do some serious thinking, about what kind of Domina I wanted to be. Seeking guidance from Spirit, on how to be a Domina, in service to the Goddess.

   While in Mexico, I won a trip to the Mayan pyramids at Chichen Itza, and my kitty cat curiosity led me to do psychometry on the ancient Idol of Chacmool. Psychometry is the art of picking up psychic impressions by touch.
   First, I felt layers of fear and pain, tourists imaginings and the chaos of later years, like a cocoon disguise. I went deeper, in trust, then, an awareness/explosion of beauty and life, love, a sense of forgotten spiritual knowledge. Life energy and white light! The spirit of the rain that gives life to the jungle of the Yucatan. Those who were sacrificed to Chacmool spent their whole lives preparing and competing for the honor, of an astonishing transition into a powerful guardian spirit for the people.

   Then, tourista: ".. please move so we can take a picture." Reluctantly I moved away from the Idol.

   I felt the God's eyes on me for the rest of the tour, I was being examined very closely. Some what uncomfortable, I was hanging onto my quartz crystal and grounding as best I could. (oops! sorry to wake you, Chac, yes, I do respect Your temple, yes Sir..)

   We went to see the sinkhole, where the worshippers of Chacmool used to throw in offerings.. and people. I hung onto a tree with a tight grip, because I was getting very strong urges to jump into that lovely inviting deep blue subterranean pool. (...aaaahhh. splash.)

   Much to my surprise I had woken the Rain God.
   And Oh my, He was not pleased!! He was not pleased that I had broken off the psychometry to please tourists who wanted pix of the idol without me in them. He was not impressed at what He saw of His Temple thru my eyes.

   I spent the afternoon with intense energy making me shaky and dizzy, and an interrogation scene by an Ancient God going on in my head. He wanted to know what had happened to His Temple. I had little to tell Him, and I wondered why He didn't know, Himself, if He was a God.. seemed he'd been sleeping. At that time, I did not understand that such beings are not aware of our perceptual reality, or linear time except when in communion with human perceptions.

   I continued with the tour. I have a slight fear of heights, which I challenge habitually. I climbed the great pyramid, but attempting to climb back down those terrifyingly steep crumbled steps, with an interrogation going on in my head distracting me and making me dizzy was too much for me. I was getting crystal clear visions of my corpse rolling down the steps with my head bashed in...

   I sat down on a step, and surrendered.
   I told Chac that if He was pissed at me for disturbing Him and wanted me to bash my brains out on the steps of His temple, not letting me focus while I was climbing down those treacherous steps was likely to accomplish that. In my current overwhelmed state He could easily arrange for one mis-step on these stairs and my head would be bust open, and my corpse rolling down the steps like in the old ways.. but I was really hoping He would rather chat? And if so would He please withdraw His presence into my quartz crystal? Then we could communicate and I would hopefully be able to make it down the stairs with my head intact.
   He seemed surprised at this: His attitude completely changed, and He seemed puzzled at my physical difficulties. He wondered why a Priestess would be allowed to touch His idol if she had not been trained to handle His energy?
  Priestess???
  I asked Him to look again thru my eyes, at the evidence of the centuries passed while He was sleeping, and know that there was no-one left to train me as a Priestess, except He, Himself. If He wanted to..
  His culture and people were long gone, it was presumed that He was long gone, too.. so no disrespect intended. Modern folks were reconstructing the ruins, trying to guess what ancient Maya had been like.

   He accepted this, and I accepted His teaching, but with some concern I explained what would happen to a Priestess that did a heart ripping ritual in this society, and how those aspects of what we knew of His worship would need to be excluded from my training. I was a basically nonviolent Goddess worshipping being who wouldn't be doing any killing of people.. or anything else that was in conflict with my Higher Self, with Goddess' will for me.
   He understood my concerns, and approved of my devotion to the Mother Goddess. He said "It's not necessary" and I got an impression that the mystery had been confused by the Mayans. It was women's moon blood, the blood of life, that the Earth wanted. Not bloodshed.
   He also told me, that the rituals had been directed toward providing guides for the Mayan Ascension.
  (It is thought by many, including the our tour guide for the trip, that the disappearance of the Ancient Mayan Royal families and priest classes was accomplished by their ascending into a higher dimension.)
   I thought that was kind of strange, as there are already many spirit guides for ascension.. He agreed, but the Mayans had wanted the comfort of familiar faces.. Years later he also explained that the sacrifices had been partly political, to make sure that no-one living would be as powerful in Spirit, as the King.
   The energy of His being retreated to my crystal, and I was been able to connect with Him thru it, and telepathically ever since. Not always very effectively, my ADD brain sometimes makes it difficult for me to focus, and hear clearly.

   Months later, we agreed that there was no point to my learning the dead language of ancient Maya, or many of the ancient rituals that were specific to the structure of Mayan society and had no purpose or correspondence in Western culture. It was more effective for Him to find resonant ideas that I would be able to comprehend, and communicate them to me as he thought best, in dreams, daydreams and metaphors. To get past the difficulties of my ADD brain, I invited Him to have free rein to dig in my unconscious, and rearrange my mind as He saw fit.

   If it seems like the Spirituality I teach is an odd hodgepodge of symbolism, that is why. It is the result of an ancient Mayan Rain God graciously adapting his wisdom to the task of training a modern white grrl Dominatrix to be a Priestess-Shaman.
   He drew on sources he found in my pop-culture, science fiction fantasy bookworm head, and my lifelong spiritual studies. Everything from the Grail Legend of King Arthur, to Buddhism and SM erotica. Christianity to vampire stories, Wiccan magic and "Dune". From Greek mythology to NLP.

   The Feathered Serpent of the Maya and the Fire Serpent of Kundalini, are One. The essence of all religions are similar, and speak the same truths.

  He is beloved, and has taught me many strange and wonderful things in the time we have been together. I no longer need the crystal, he is a part of me, but it is still a cherished rock.

   Before the trip to Mexico was over I had fallen ill, Montezuma's revenge and a mysterious rash all over. An encounter with a black tide and coral reef barnacles had stripped some layers of skin from my back, and I felt like I had contracted a virus. I prayed for the illness to be postponed until I got home to my own bed. When I got home I was deathly ill. Bedridden, feverish and nearly comatose for weeks.

   I have since learned from my research on Shamanism, that this story is a classic tale of shamanic initiation. First contact is always followed by life-threatening illness.
   Discovering this, amazed me. Goddess was smiling on me that day, I did everything right, and passed, where others have died.

   Awakening, interrogation, surrender, acceptance, illness, rebirth as a Shaman, or death. One cannot become a Shaman any other way. One does not take a course or apprenticeship to become a Shaman, tho some other Shaman may provide some guidance to the experience. One becomes a Shaman if one is chosen by the Spirits, and the Spirits train the Shaman directly.
   Life threatening illness after initiation is normal. Chacmool was kind enough to delay my illness till I was back in my own bed.

   On that day in Chichen Itza, I became a Shaman. I had gone seeking guidance as a Domina, and that is where my quest brought me. I did not know it then, but I was already a Kundalini Shaktipat Mystress. That was the energy that had awakened the Rain God of the Yucatan, and He is happier here, I think, in rainy Vancouver.
  I discovered why Goddess had brought me to Him, when I sought guidance. My becoming a Shaman-Priestess of Chacmool was "As Goddess Wills". She provided the trip to Mexico and to Chichen Itza, thru my winning them as prizes.
  His worship is very much resonant with BDSM. Pain rituals, hierarchical status games and the altered states attainable through endorphin ecstacy were very much a part of Mayan Mysticism. He was an excellent teacher for my learning to understand the deeper meanings of the roles and rituals, the growth that Goddess was guiding me towards, when She directed me to become a Pro-Dom.
   Sometimes, when I tune in on Him, I get the funny impression He is not "at" Chichen Itza anymore.. the rain God has found rainy Vancouver more to His liking.. tho of course He is beyond space-time, so such a line of thinking is quite pointless.
   The earth energy Chacmool represents, is related to the Greenman of the Druids, and they, too, got off the original path of the blood mysteries and into blood sacrifice.

   Chac honors me with His presence.
   Wow, did I ever get a beautiful love and respect rush after typing those words! Whew! Exalting and humbling, nearly brought tears to my eyes. Thank you, Chac. Beloved.

   Update:

    In Sept, 1998 I was guided to do a ritual that took the form of the marriage of Persephone to Hades. Persephone is the daughter of Demeter, the Earth Goddess, and Zeus, the thunder God. Chacmool is a rain God and also a Death God, since the water in the Yucatan is mostly underground rivers and sinkholes. The ritual was a merging of many metaphors.. it was an adapted version of the Heart sacrifice, and also my ego-death.. unifying my conscious and unconscious minds, my female ego and the Divine Beloved Male unconscious self.

    Thru a ritual of marriage, I offered my heart to Chacmool/Hades/The Divine Beloved/the light under the ground that I dreamt of in my crib, and have been seeking ever since.
    Since then, my world is very different.

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