A Sacred Shaman Love:
I floated happily in the large heated pool outside the Harbin Conference Center. It was a Sunday evening in August, the last day of a Human Awareness Institute Workshop called “The Miracle of Love.” Having attended their workshops through six levels, I had just finished a repeat of the first level. It had been a joy to go through level one again with new eyes.Nancy was sitting on the steps of the pool. A younger woman, I had neither noticed or connected with her all weekend. Her black hair was dramatically arranged, with a dark red streak, reminding me somehow of a puma. I went up to say hello and was captivated by her eyes. Green and deep, they softly hissed with intensity and held my gaze solidly during what I had assumed would be some light recounting of workshop experience. We talked for hours, never losing the thread that gradually wove itself in a fabric between our eyes, our minds, our bodies. As her eyes continued to open to me, I saw glimpses of worlds that were so big, I let myself get sucked in willingly to explore them. I marveled my surprise out loud. I find comfort with this energy so unusual in people under fifty. She was not offended by what might have seemed a patronizing comment, or an arrogant one made by one younger than herself.
