In these trying times, our mission is help people re-awaken their spiritual being and remind them of the healing power of Jesus and Mary Magdalene. The sacred blend of frankincense and myrrh help unite us with the divine. In the spirit of Mary Magdalene, who anointed Jesus’ feet with perfumed oil, and recalling the gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh brought to the Christ Child by the three wise men of the East, this oil calms, uplifts and restores. Apply a few drops to awaken the spirit and recall the ambiance of burning incense. Suitable for use in anointing and as a perfume. Great for the winter blues. Please support our mission by purchasing our hand-made healing oil here. These make a very meaningful gift for Christmas.
We really reduce our understanding of all that is when the acknowledgment of energy and spirit are left out of the equation. Our existence becomes meaningless because we can’t explain things energetically or spiritually. Somehow because science needs a machine to measure things and that the human body and mind, which is the most sophisticated detecting system as we know, supposed can’t be relied upon. There is no point then of talking morality either because everything is just matter and has no spirit. The beauty of creation came to be by some obscure chemical reaction? The attractive energy between men and women does not exist either, but how can they explain when we can’t take our eyes off one another?
Here is another subject: the depiction of the earth circling the sun is about as stone age as it gets. The sun is constantly in motion. The path of the earth around the sun is actually a spiral. Our earth will never pass the same spot over again. In fact, the whole galaxy is moving. Imagine a big slinky, you know that spiral toy. That is the path of the earth and all the other planets as well. The moons path around the earth is a spiral too. check out this video
Read part 1 here.
(After writing this today, coincidentally, I read that a disabled man had to crawl off an airplane. This happened 18 years ago. It was a serious situation, not editing what I wrote now, trying to make light of how tense it was)
I became a helper at the airport. Quite often there are people who fly who need help getting in and out of the airplane. I always offered to help. It gave me a sense of being good to help those less fortunate than myself. They tested me one time for sure. They being those spirits who have guided me in my crazy life. Perhaps the spirit was my dad because he died when I was 20 of cancer. His last words were not to follow in his footsteps and work for the man and die of cancer. Well there I was at the airport where he worked. So anyways, there was this man with a condition that left him unable to talk well and walk. Actually he could stand with someone to hold onto for balance. The planes I worked with had steps to walk up and down to the cement ground or what we called the ramp. Big propellers right there. This man, I held onto as he walked up the stairs. It wasnt funny but it turned out to be when his legs walked up without his body under him. Off he flew. I thought why didnt he have someone, a caretaker with him.
Some time later, Im there on the ramp, directing planes and throwing bags, and I hear that there is a problem with a passenger. Its that guy. He has to go to the bathroom really bad and is screaming. I felt sorry for him in his state because he had a hard time talking and no one to help him. The flight attendant lady just wanted him off the plane. However he kept pointing to the restroom right there in front of him. He couldnt get there on his own. I did as I was told and helped him off the plane. Boy he was mad. On the ground, he was yelling as best he could and pointing at the bathroom up on the plane. I noticed that I was alone, that everyone took off. I had to yell at him to quiet him down. I just told him that I was going to help. I waited for the the small shuttle to arrive and got him aboard. Im sure he really had to go! The shuttle driver needed help starting the vehicle as I was starting to get upset myself. It took forever to get to the gate as I guess the driver didnt understand the situation. To make things worse, the passenger assist people flew the coop as well when they saw me wheeling him in. Then the security, had to make sure he wasnt a terrorist undercover as physically disabled man when they double checked everything for metal. My God! So I get him to the bathroom and I thought it was over. Well God had locked the door so no one had to see me hold the guy up to the urinal and pee. Thank goodness for velcro pants! Later outside because there was no one there to pick him up, I felt terrible and humbled as he apoligized to me as I helped him have a cigarette. I never knew how difficult it was to be handicapped. Looking back at it now, I should have said to hell with everyone and helped him use the bathroom on the plane.
Other times were more glamourous at the airport. One time, the band, Loverboy, was boarding the plane. There were no ramps or jetways there, everything was outside. So I saw them and I said to a younger co-worker, I was 30, “I used to rock to those guys when I was a kid”. One of the bandmembers overheard me and shouted back, “hey we are STILL kids!” I told them I took nice care of their equipment and the lead singer, Mike, turned around as he was walking up the steps and said thankyou, very nicely. That was cool! The luggage compartment was in the rear of the plane, right behind where they were sitting, so we gave them an encore performance, singing their big song, “everybody’s working for the weekend!”. I heard them laughing.
My experiences seemed to deepen. This is while I was still employed at the airport. After going to a concert at this local venue in Minneapolis called First Avenue (where Prince performed his movie Purple Rain), I was walking down the street sidewalk, still downtown, and out of nowhere, this young street girl comes up and holds onto me. She wanted to trade sexual favors for money. I looked at her barefeet and told her no, however, I would give her some money anyways. She started to tell me her terrible plight and broke down crying, as she sat down on the sidewalk to pee. I helped her up, dug in my pocket for some money and handed it to her. Well, other street people had seen me dole out the cash, because within seconds, I was being surrounded from every direction, being yelled at for money. I ended up running all the way out of downtown.
The next day after leaving work, I saw this guy pushing a motorcycle in the center ditch on the highway. I drove around on the next exits and returned – I had a pickup truck. I pulled up and asked this guy whose face was beat red, pushing this motorbike uphill, if he needed a lift. Like I needed to ask. We threw his bike in the back and he told me to go to his work, which happened to be a gas station. He insisted and I said ok to his filling my tank up. The lesson, you should give to receive.
read part 3 here.
My Spiritual Journey by Jesse
Thinking about where Im now, daoist shaman practitioner who goes to church, and how I got here, is a wild story to say the least. It all adds up.
I remember trying to be an altar boy but I failed at that or least received too many dirty looks by the pastor-I grew up catholic in Mendota Heights Minnesota- when I messed up bringing the chalice or water or wine. “no dammit, the wine first!”, he said. I didnt like being in front of all those people either. Looking back now, I know why, I am an empath and really sensitive too, doesnt help being a redhead either. However, I still believed in what they taught me about Jesus Christ, like not judging and not being into material possessions, taking it on the other cheek.
Then I moved to Billings Montana and they made me go to confirmation classes until I was 18. The pastor who taught the class would turn off the lights and we would sit in the dark for awhile before he lit a candle. It never failed, my friend, who suffered through it all as well, and I would start to laugh. I couldnt help it. The pastor would always question our thinking about God, he would say, “well that doesnt prove that God exists.” I thought he was atheist.
During my junior and high school days, what a nightmare, my dad had bought a used set of Encyclopedia Britannicas and I would spend a lot of time reading about different religious philosophies. Zen really interested me. It taught me to be aware of the moment. It wasnt that I wasnt spiritual, I just thought that so many people were hypocrits who were religious. My grandfather would preach on me about God, oh and patience. I did learn patience though, years later, because I have like that stupid disorder that they have labeled attention-deficit.
ADD could have come from many things, probably the violence I watched as a kid didnt help. Man I had a lot of anger inside of me when I was younger. I ended up moving over 30 times and still on the move. Many of my friends, men and women, met me because I seem to have this patience and empathy for people who have been through trauma of some sort. Ive heard many confessions throughout the years, stories that they never had told anyone else. Im glad I could listen because sometimes you just need someone to not judge you for your actions.
One thing that has stuck with me since a child is this instinctive knowledge about Viking mythology. I would listen to thunder at night as a child and see Thor pounding his hammer, before I even knew who that was. Throughout my life, Ive read all the viking stories, and believe that I was a shaman in another life about a thousand years ago. Probably explains why I dont really fit into this life of electronics, damn computers and the media. Thank Oden that I met another person, my woman, who knows all the mythology too and thinks she is from another time too as a viking. By the way, where is my ship with the cool fire breathing dragon.
So I am glad I met this holistic counselor when I moved to San Diego. She helped me to believe in myself and in doing so really met God. It felt like a true loving force had warmed my heart up for the first time. Well everything changed after that. I decided to try to take charge of my life and defy fate. I created a lot of havoc along the way, such as saying to hell with my family who treated me like a red-haired stepchild-oh yeah thats because I am one. Had some real crazy relationships and Im glad I know the difference of having the right one now! But I experienced and heard first hand of all the traumas that women can go through. It doesnt pertain to being a man or woman, both can do a lot of mean things to others.
Then Im back in Montana, who could believe, and I get struck by lightning. Maybe not the full blast, but a streamer had formed up out of my head as I felt the hair on the back of neck and back stand on end. I thought a dragon was going to get me. I jumped into this bus that I was living in, out of instinct, as fast as I could, but the lightning flash had blinded me and I was holding onto the railing in the stairwell for dear life, deafened by the thunder. I shook in fear as I couldnt see anything but the psychedelic lights tripping in front of my eyes. It struck an electric pole, 10 feet away.
Did I mention the Metrodome incident? Ever since being attacked by a mob of people for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, I sustained a pretty bad concussion from a kick to the head and my memory is a little sketchy. At least I remember some things. Not to mention that I havent felt the same ever since, such in a way that makes you feel a little disconnected from your spirit, the person who you were before, that leaves you searching. During the incident, I had to make a decision to run or to fight. I didnt think I could get away from this out -of-nowhere mob that was running and screaming at me, for what I couldnt figure out. So I fought. I dont really remember-the concussion remember- the only thing is that I got thrown around like a ragdoll and some asshole ripped my face with his fingernails. But my brother said I was fighting like a beserker and sending people flying. Thank God when I heard him yell ‘cops!’ and the mob stopped. However, they werent through yet and jumped me again. This is where I got the kick from some big dude with old fashioned sneakers. He decided to run at my bro too, but got the best revenge I ever saw when he took a kick to the nuts from my brother. God rest my brothers soul, as he died a few years ago from an overdose on crystal-meth.
I heard that my brother saved me when I was a baby too. I had crawled into the water and was floating face down when he ran and jumped over a dock and rescued me. Thats deep! I wouldnt be here writing this if he… Well makes up for leaving me alone when I was still in the crib and turning the lights off when they-older brothers, like around 10 years, were babysitting me. I crawled under the crib and cried myself asleep. That was the last time they babysat me. I wonder why?
Oh yeah, getting back to the metrodome event. My face looked like I had went through a car windshield and I had to fly back to San Diego. People were staring at me in horror asking what had happened. The bartender lady at the airport in Kansas bought me a drink-how nice that was when I was feeling really low. I have never been a person to get into brawls but it was amazing how many people that I knew thought I started it. Just what I wanted to do-start a fight with a mob!
When I had moved to Montana in 1980 just before Mt St Helens volcano blew and spread ash all over, the teachers there thought I was stupid and put me into this group of kids who caused a lot of problems-strangely they were pretty smart. In Minnesota, I was in the top 3 of my class and they really thought I was the cream of the crop. After that, school was never exciting anymore until I went back to college after my car accident. Thats later. I was getting beat by the teachers and my parents. Makes me think of that Pink Floyd song, “we dont need no education… teacher leave those kids alone.” Also Tom Sawyer, who in a movie presentation as a redhead, also red hair stepchild, is sung about by Aunt Polly about how it didnt matter how many scoldings and whippings she gave him, he just wouldnt learn to be tame. By the way, Mark Twain had red hair too. Yes I know they always show him having white hair, but he had to be young at some age. Ok so in the 12 years of school all I learned was how to read and write-well sort of-oh and wow, add too. Damn could have learned that at home. I learned more from my grandparents who were farmers. They made everything for themselves like food and clothes. Like how to survive.
When you are tired of being beat when you are trying to be good, I gave in. This new kid from out of state, who really was a troublemaker, came along in junior high, we became friends and Oh Lord, did we cause a scene. This leads to one story of being chased by another mob of people. They saw us putting up letters on the board in the middle of the football field. A bus returning with students off on a venture, drove by in the middle of the night just as we were in the middle of our venture. I didnt think they would see us because it was dark, but from out of nowhere they were running through the entrance to the field. I know Im not cut out to be a bad person because when Im doing something that makes me scared, I start to laugh. So we were running being chased by this mob with me laughing all the way. I couldnt jump the fence in my laughter, but luckily my friend yelled at me in the nick of time and I made it over. Gets my heart pumping just thinking about that one. Oh yeah, we wrote “with pride, fuck West!’
Reading this again, I just remember going to this Irish bar named Luckys at the age of 16 before confirmation classes in order to make it through the darkness. Once a priest, who was new, must have smelled the beer, and instead of scolding me, told me about his days when he abused alcohol. Ive never forgot that story. He was a good man.
stay tuned for the rest of the story
Welcome to Spiral Dragons Daoist Center for Transformation
We are practitioners of the ancient healing arts of Tui-na, Chi Gong, Astrology and Feng Shui. Our mission of healing stems from the Daoist concepts of living in harmony with nature and striving to balance the feminine (yin) and masculine (yang) energies by honoring them as unique, complimentary and inseparable.
We bring healing directly to our clients through the hands-on therapy of Tui-na; the physical, energetic and spiritual practice of Chi Gong; the realization of identity and health strategies based on personal astrology and physical constitution; and by providing good energy flow in home and life through Feng Shui.
As part of our healing mission we emphasize the importance of teaching others our practices, thus enabling them to take charge of their own health, the only means to true and lasting wellness.
Jesse’s story “How Chinese Theraputic Massage Reclaimed My Life” (page 3 of newsletter) recounts how Chi Gong and Tui-na helped him overcome chronic debilitating pain sustained in an auto accident, and details his training as apprentice to Master Zhang. Since completing his training, Jesse has treated over 1,000 patients, specializing in traumatic injury.
Please sit and savor a cup of tea as you browse our services and products, view our photography, and follow our adventures through our blog. Contact us with any questions or to set up an appointment.
Everything in the universe is energy(chi). All energy is either yin or yang. All energy is guided by the divine will and intention of God.
By observing that our universe is more than just the physical world we see, that everything is vibrational energy on many levels, designed by a higher power than ours, realization of a universal connection is possible.