NATIVE AMERICAN SYMPATHETIC MAGIC
The Age of Aquarius has given us the New Paradigm of the Laws of Spiritual Quantum Physics. These laws have ripped the lid off the box that contains the secrets of creation and the creator God.
Many of the seers, magicians, healers, healers, and shamans of the past instinctively and intuitively knew how the Laws of Spiritual Quantum Physics work.
They did not use the new modern terminology for these laws. But they knew the job managers.
They knew that magic was action at a distance and that they could use their minds to effect change in people, places, and events.
Everyone agreed that everything is alive in its own way. Trees, rocks, rivers, clouds, etc.
And they used their minds and rituals to create a form of sympathetic magic between themselves and the objects of their rituals.
The new laws of Spiritual Quantum Physics tell us that everything in the Universe is connected by consciousness. That the human mind can affect people, places, events, animals, and even the planet using their minds.
It works on the same principle that our Native Americans use to affect and change reality. It is a modern version of sympathetic magic.
The age of materialism that has swept over the world in the last 100 years has cut us off from our spiritual heritage.
It is within our Spiritual nature that we humans can search for the workings and principles of the lost art of sympathetic magic.
I was reintroduced to it by my friend Willie White Feather, a Cherokee medicine man when he lived in Arizona.
He had a beat up old Toyota pickup truck that never seemed to stop.
I had a 1978 Dodge pickup. One day when Willie and I were driving down to Four Corners (Hopi Land) in my pickup it started sputtering and I felt it want to stop.
He saw the anguish on my face and said, “Ragnar, don’t be angry or afraid. Just talk to the truck and swear an oath of friendship.”
I looked at him without understanding at all.
He continued: “I made a sacred promise of friendship with my truck and now it never fails me. Everything is alive. Let your truck know you know it’s alive. Talk to it.”
“Stop,” he said.
I pulled the Dodge to the side of the road and we both got out.
Willie took his medicine bag (he always carried it with him on a leather strap around his neck) and spread some blue cornmeal around the truck. This was to make the land sacred.
We stood in front of the truck and Willie said, “now give him a name and make a sacred pact of friendship with him.”
“I’m going to call him Willie,” I told him.
He smiled.
I put both hands on the hood. I began, “Willie my friend, I know you are alive in your own way. You are my friend and I make this sacred promise to you. I will never throw you away or give you away as long as I stay in Arizona.” May it never break down, stall or fail to start anywhere you can’t get help. I will continue to fix it and replace its worn parts for as long as we are together. This is my promise to you.”
Willie nodded and we went back to the truck. It started immediately and we drove all the way to Four Corners, the engine humming perfectly and smoothly.
I stayed with Willie for 18 years. He was an old friend and many of the parts of him were worn (like mine).
But he never stopped taking me home or wherever he was going. She never stopped in the middle of the vastness of the desert or the mountains of the Southwest.
Whenever some part failed, he warned me. He would drive me home and then in the morning he would not start until he found the problem. He always let me know when he needed help.
Or he would give up on a gas station garage after he filled it up. The mechanic on duty was always friendly and helpful.
I once took a long trip to Baker, Nevada. I had to go through Las Vegas. The negative vibes in that city were so bad that I didn’t even stop for gas. I knew I needed gas but I refused to stop.
I drove straight and started out of the desert towards the mountains.
Halfway up the mountain I could see that the fuel needle was empty. Willie began to splutter. I talked to him and told him “not here”.
It was night and a light snow was falling.
We spit for another 3-4 miles and finally made it to the top. It all went downhill from there. I put Willie in neutral and started down. The engine went silent and I slid with my foot on the brake.
A few miles down the mountainside, a small gas station appeared, located on the right hand side of the road.
I slid down and stopped in front of the only bomb. It was 3 in the morning. It was closed, so I curled up in the seat and went to sleep.
A light tapping on the window woke me up. He was the owner. I filled Willie up and we continued on to Baker.
I also took Willie cross country to New York twice. One time pulling my Jeep. It was over 7000 miles total and I never feared or even considered the fact that I might not make it in a 1978 Dodge truck.
I have more stories about me and Willie, but that’s enough to get my point across.
Yes, the New Paradigm of Spiritual Quantum Physics has reopened the path to magic. It is one of the tools or gifts of the Creator God. The magic is ours. It does not belong only to Native American shamans and medicine men. Learn to use it. Talk to your truck and your car. Befriend!