Over the past several months, I’ve been paying attention—not only to how many people are here, but to what actually helps people change. The grounding practices matter. The healing audios matter. And there is a particular shift that happens when someone completes a shamanic journey and realizes, “I can actually do this.” I don’t want this to be another place where we just collect spiritual information. I want it to be a place where we practice what’s needed: grounding, discernment, direct experience and integration. Around the Spring Equinox, I began changing the direction of this community. As we approach the Fall Equinox, I am ready for the next step. The Shaman's Journey is becoming a more focused and committed spiritual practice community. I will share more in the days ahead. Drop One word that describes what you want most from a spiritual practice.

This one is for all the helpers. You know who you are. The therapists, the nurses, the coaches, and the teachers in this community. You help people heal things you haven't finished healing for yourself. I want to say that plainly because I know you carry it quietly. I did the same thing for years. You sit across from someone and guide them through the exact terrain you avoid in your own life. You know the language. You know the frameworks. You are genuinely good at your job. And your guidance works. But privately, there is a room in your own house you do not enter. That interior place you don't go because it still hurts or haunts you. Here is what I want you to hear. That's not hypocrisy. It's the normal condition of every helper who was trained in a technique but never given a place to do their own work. Your training taught you to hold space for others. It never taught anyone to hold it for you. That has always been the problem for so many of us who are the helpers in the world. Most of you became helpers because of your wound, not in spite of it. The wound gave you the radar. The radar made you good. But radar is not the same as repair. It's not the same as healing from the inside. You do not lose credibility by doing your own work. You lose credibility by pretending you don't need to. This community is one of the few places where you get to be the one on the receiving end. No credentials required at the door. No performance either. If you work in a helping profession, comment your field below. Not your name, not your title. Just the field. I want the helpers here to see how many of each other there are.

People tell me their traditions are lost. I hear this from students, people in healing circles and other places. The story is familiar. The language died with a great-grandparent. The practices were forbidden or shamed out of the family. Nobody is left to teach them. Nobody talked about these ways. I understand why it feels that way. This was the experience in my family. It wasn't until I was an adult that I learned about my great grandfather's healing ability. I had a great aunt who was well known for her divination and healing knowledge of herbs. She would have people come from long distances to see her. Hardly anyone in the family talked about this without being asked many times over for details. In light of all this, I want to hand you a different word. Not lost. Dormant. Lost means gone. Dormant means sleeping. A seed under winter ground is not dead. It is waiting for conditions to change. Your traditions were carried in bodies for thousands of years. Some of that carrying does not stop just because the teaching stopped. It waits in you. In what pulls you. In what makes you weep without knowing why. The work is not resurrection. The work is waking up something that never fully slept. It's that knowing that sits just under the first layer that is waiting for sunlight. I want you to think about how your traditions are part of you. What is one practice, sound, or place that pulls at you even though nobody taught it to you? Put it below. Read the other answers before you scroll on. You will see you are not alone in this.

Every tradition I have trained in starts students at the same place. Not visions. Not journeys. Not healing anyone. Grounding. This is step one. The unglamorous skill of getting your energy back in your body and your roots into the earth. Because an ungrounded sensitive is like a kite in a storm. Every wind owns them. A grounded one is a tree. The same storm passes through, and they are still standing there. Blown around, ruffles, but standing. First skill. Every day. Before everything else. Grounding. reliable, stable, effective. The rest of the path is built on it. Where are you with your grounding skill on a scale of 0-10 (10 being it's top notch!) Post below and let's talk about how to move the needle for those who need to up level this skill.

Nobody hands you a checklist for this. So here is one. 1. You feel a room before you read it. You walk in and know something happened, before a word is spoken. 2. Strangers tell you their deepest wounds. In line. On planes. They say "I don't know why I'm telling you this." You do. 3. Crowds cost you. Not because you dislike people. Because you leave carrying pieces of all of them. 4. You knew things as a child that adults could not explain. Who was lying. Who was sick. Who was about to leave. 5. Animals and small children come to you like you are a known address. 6. You have been called too sensitive your whole life, by people who never once asked what you were sensing. None of these are symptoms. They are markers of a gift that arrived without a manual. How many describe you? Post your number. And read the other numbers before you scroll on. That is the point of this thread.