A Tale of Two Mages

I met another mage one day, on the dusty road. They had all the robes, marks and tools to loudly displaying their craft and their elevation as quite magical.
I stopped to say, “Hello there fellow wandering mage!”
Instead of smiling back he said, “How DARE you presume to know me! I am no petty mage! I am a SAVIOR I have come to save all of humanity one by one. Nay, I am no petty mage, now get out of my way, I am the Great Magician!”
“Okay, okay,” I say, “Okay... Easy, there is no offense intended, no need for hang ups here.” He was already gone and I was left staring in dismay at his awkward strut and his myopic gaze as he made his way the same as my own intended direction.
“This will be fun,” I say to the air between us. I watched him march right past the old man with a broken wheel who had no way to bring his crops in, and no hope for a return of profit. I stopped asking the cranky old man how it had happened in the first place?
“You see that man, striding away?" he asked me. "Earlier up the road I caught him. He was in one of my fields while I was out gathering for market. He had no right to be there and when I asked him to move along he cursed me to be as bothered as ‘you just made me right now!”
“I’m not a superstitious man, but I swear that man just cursed me. A ripple swept right through me when he said it, and now, just like he told me, all I hear is bother this and bother that and I'm as cranky  as a fresh spanked baby! I yelled at all my boys , and they all left.  Said I was on my own, and then I really lost my temper, when the horse was just trying to do as I told him. I put him in a bad position, the wheel caught up on a snagging root. I thought with enough force from the brute it would just break free. So I whipped him harder then I ever have, things like this I just don't do.”
He was sobbing now as he described how the rigging broke free and the horse ran off leaving him utterly alone. How if he leaves the cart his crops might be stollen but if he misses market they won’t keep until next week.“
As he spoke I imagined a column of gold light full of prismatic rainbows coming down from the sun and directly into his crown and beginning to fill him like a great big honey bear, with it's prismatic honey stemcell water.  I watched how it chased and shifted the black flies of projected hatred buzzing all through him.
I asked his angels to come on down and help me set these flies free. They brought with them a golden, great big gunny sack, which they placed over the old man now smiling so softly, and sealed it up tight with golden silken purse strings.
Arch Angel Micheal stood before the old man, and asked, "Ready?"
The old man, and the other three angels around him, Gabriel, Uriel, and Zadkiel all said as one, "Ready."  Michael kisses the old man's forehead through the sack and the four  angels, each holding a string, lifted in flight, dragging the sack back to Source, carrying all that Magicians flies of projected Self-Hatred, filtered out of the old man by that great gunny sack God.  They watched it, full and batting back and forth like fighting cats in the wind, dragged kicking and screaming back to heaven.
The old man sitting there looking quite a bit lighter and full of honey golden light, oozing out of his pores and seeping down through his roots. I knew he would be just fine.  His field would be mostly recovered by the time help arived.
I yawned and burped and cleared the paths and let the divine light flow back in and through him. I placed my hand on his heart and sacrum and I told him, “I am speak to all of you, take pride in all you do from your heart, and protect not just yours  labor but the fruits of all of  your neighbors as well.  Together we stand, divided we fall.”
Then I moved my hand to his throat and solar, and said again, “Speak the truth, for when speaking from your heart you can not lie.  Trust your compassion, and witness life with gratitude, even for the lessons of today.  Find gratitude and compassion even for the Magician, see the lessons he is struggling to learn and ask yourself, are these personal ofensses of me against myself?
"Witness yourself and the whole experience again throug the lens of how you wish to be moving forward?"
I let that settle in, beofre I continued, “Tell me what you had for breakfast, sir? Was it tea and logan berry jam and bread?”
Surprised his eye popped open bright, he coughed and sputtered, “How could you know? How could you guess that?”
“I had a feeling,” smiling with him, I continued. “Can you remember dressing this morning? Waking up?"
"Can you remember rigging up your horse and breathing in the morning crisp autumn blessings on the wind?”
"I can, I think that very thing each morning.  This is my favorite time of year." 
"Good. I think you're going to be just fine. And me, I need to get moving along now."
His smiles swirling chakras  were shining the most beautiful pink light of love, gratitude and total acceptance.  "Thank you, beautiful lady.  May I ask your name?" 
I'm just a wandering mage who got to play with you today.  Thank you sir."
"Here," he said handing her two beauiful green pears and an shiny golden apple, "Breakfast is on me. And if you see that old mage, give him one of these pears from me.  He's probably quite hungry, sleeping out in the field." 
"Thank you, I’m sorry I cannot help you fix your broken wheel, but I have a feeling someone will come quite soon who will.”
He smiled and said, “No need to apologize! You have helped me remember myself and release that curse. I’m sure things will all work out now that I am free of him.”
“It is important that you remember you are always free. His curse was no more lasting than had he spat in your face. You have the choice to remember yourself and cleanse and release. When it feels like too much for you, call upon your angels and surrender with grace as they restore you to your divine blueprint of who you came to be. Then feel the ground beneath you holding you lovingly and the sun shining brightly down upon your face steadily.” He smile and thanked her, hugged and held her and blessed her in return, “May the sun kiss your forehead for me until we return to see one another once again.” And he kissed her forehead and she his in return. “Thank you,” I smiled, “I love this blessing!” I went along on my way and marveled at the way the morning dew was melting into mist and rising in the golden morning sun. My heart was full of gratitude for service in connecting God with myself or anyone, is an exquisite pleasure that is not for words to describe it; come together two or more and oooh the deliciousness that comes through filled my belly more than any Thanksgiving meal. I carried on in my journey, feeling my way through, turning here and stopping there and serving as I received all I need. A girl at the well with a deep cool ladle offered me as much water as I could drink, a woman making bread in a huge brick oven gave me a thick slice with jam and butter, and a hot rich cup of tea when I was complementing her outdoor kitchen and the beautiful smells within it. She beamed with pride and confirmed just what I wondered, “My husband made it just for me when I complained how cooking made me miss the morning sun. He even covers it in the winter so I cook out here all the time. You might have seen him, he is harvesting pears just up the lane.” The bread was even more delicious than she sensed from his memory, and deep inside her a voice reminded her, “...that’s why we are here being human.” “I did see him, his cart has a broken wheel, and I think he might need a hand cause nobody was with him.” In a quick huff and puff she thanked me profusely and went behind the barn quickly. She came back striding faster than I’d have expected without quite breaking into a run, “It always takes the hand of a man AND a woman to really get things done! Good luck beautiful one!” And she was gone. I finished my breakfast and off I went marveling at her light. True beauty like that is so rare to find she thought rarely so people let themselves shine so. When I came to town I found quite the crowd. In the center was the Great Magician shouting out loud all the ways he could heal them, how he was spawn their own great Awakening and how god had chosen him to be his hand and take away the pain of his chosen people. I listened for a bit but wandered off to find my friend’s apothecary and catch up. Surprised to see me, as I’d come weeks early, I caught her up on the incredible flow of my journey. Time passed by and I saw my clients, students and fiends, we exchanged our newest keys and blessed the work again. As I was wandering through the market preparing for the next leg of my Journey I heard shouting in an alley and a man with a hunched back and cane was yelling at the Magician. Something about how he’s a fraud of the mind and he took nothing away, only his money and his pride. Enraged the Magician shouted, “How dare you call me a Charlatan, you have no idea how much I have trained! I work with the greates of powers and trained under the greatest of masters and now I have nothing more to say to a man who can not face himself and believes everyone else is to blame! Own your own pain!” “Whew,” I thought aloud, “that is intense, what a distortion of ownership.” I shook my head and walked away continuing on in making my preparations. I was making my way through town, saying goodbyes and giving and receiving deep gratitude and blessings from all the new and old friends I’d made over my months long stay in their town. When at last I was on my way, I noticed the town was empty and no one seemed to be milling around. The feeling was a little eerie, like all the people in the background were missing. She saw a boy on the road and asked where everyone had gone? The boy replied, to hunt down a terrible Charlatan who stole all their money. He told her how he made all the claims and that the people believed him, how he could take their pain and cure all their disease and make them wealthy too. He might have gotten away with it but he was too greedy, he stuck around long enough for people realized he had only fooled them. He snuck out of town in the dark of night, stole a horse and skipped the Inn Keepers months long list of bills. She told him how sad she was that anyone had been hurt. She also reminded him to remind them all the only one who can set me free is me. She left for her next destination and walked a number of days. Sleeping in fields and friends way-stops along the way. After a time the season turned to winter just as she made it to her winter cabin, ready for rest and deep hibernation in her special private cottage tuck away. As she approached she saw it was not abandoned as it should have been. The windows were warm and smoke billowed out of the chimney. Gingerly she snuck up to the window and spies inside. There sat a man she didn’t recognize, but felt a feeling to familiar to ignore. He looked defeated, broken and beaten in body and in spirit. He was dressed in rags and was clutching one of her steaming mugs in deep desperation. She went inside puffing up to be bold and confident. Opening the door hard she shouted out, “Who the hell do you think you are invading my home!?!” Startled he turned to face her and she again wondered at the familiarity. And then it struck her, he was the Great Magician. “I’m so sorry I came in, I beg to be forgiven. I am so lost and broken I ask and asked for help but no one would help me. I have fallen into states of victimhood I cannot even say, for I myself have earned them for my own villainous ways. “I have no right to ask you, but I have no where else to go, everyone I met said you are the only way I might find my way out. Can you please please help me? I still believe God chose me, I just don’t know why he wants me to be and suffer this way.” “God has nothing to do with anything that has happened to to you. You simple have forgotten you are the author. You forget that every man and woman is also you, and the relationship you build with them is a reflection of your own relationship with you. The people you slighted and cursed too, may not have born the same faces as those who rejected you, but they still were just the same.” “These people are not there for you to fix or blame or shame, I suspect these whips don’t work so well when you use them on you either. “God has no hand in your suffering unless you understand the same God is in me and you, only looking out through our individual lenses to enhance our Goddly perspectives. Then we can see how each beating, each blessing are acts of God for humbling and strengthening, training us in our ways and means to build and gain the life we come to lead. It’s not by orchestration we make our soul song, it’s by showing up and singing along.” They spent the winter learning and reflecting and growing through the explorations of God mirroring God. This is the Work wrapped up with blessings for me and you and all. Tales from a Wandering Mage Jessie Starr www.HealingPathwalkers.com


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