Doug Boyd - Mystics, Magicians and Medicine People: Tales of a Wanderer

Himalayan Institute Press

RR 1, Box 1129

Honesdale, Pennsylvania 18431-9706

1989 by Doug Boyd

First paperback edition 1991

08 07 06 05 041 2 3 4 5

All rights reserved. Reproduction of this book in any manner, in whole or in part, in English or in any other language, is prohibited without the written permission of the publisher. Printed in the United States of America.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Boyd, Doug.

Mystics, magicians, and medicine people: tales of a wanderer
Doug Boyd.

p. cm.

ISBN 1-56924-880X

1. Boyd, Doug. 2. ReligionUnited States

Biography. 3. New Age movement. I. Title.

BL73.B68A31989

291dc2089-32813

ISBN 0-89389-237-8CIP

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information SciencesPermanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1984.

This book is dedicated to the most constant and caring of all my teachersmy own parents, Alyce and Elmer Green.

I must first express my gratitude for the invaluable editorial and conceptual assistance provided by David Bane during the preparation of this manuscript. Then I must acknowledge the many friends, colleagues, and coworkers who have been helpful and supportive over the years: Hugh and Ruth Harrison of the EsmeraldaContinuum Foundation, Miriam Camp of Berkeley, Jack Schwarz of the Aletheia Foundation, my colleagues of the Cross-Cultural Studies Program and of the International Center for Integrative Studies, and Will Noffke of Shared Visions in Berkeley, to name a few. Finally, I am grateful to all of those, named and unnamed, who are part of this story.

Prologue

IF I HAVE LEARNED ONE THING in this life, it is that God will not tie my shoes without me.

At age four, we are supposed to be able to tie our own shoes. This was the case when I was four at any rate, because all little childrens shoes had laces. I knew how, but I supposed myself to be much less adept than I really was. I was one of those kids who at age four (and there may be many, many more than we realize or admit) still clearly remembered and quite regularly reflected upon that realm whence I had so recently come; and this practice was particularly attractive to me when faced with such worldly nuisances as putting on my shoes. It could take me hours to get dressedand it frequently did! My parents and other family members realized that if they kept coming to my aid, I would never learn. But then, they also realized that if they kept waiting patiently for me, I would not learn either.

So, for reasons that seemed to me quite beyond my control, frequent scoldings began to fall upon my little ears as I sat with my chin on my knee and my shoelaces in my fingers, seemingly daydreaming, gazing intermittently at my shoes, and drifting in and out of focus. One Sunday morning as I was about to make us all late for church, I sat helplessly on the floor, knowing that none of my family was willing to assist me. Apparently, it occurred to me on that day that God was always there to help. After all, I was trying to make it to Sunday school. My parents heard me through the open doorway as I called out. They peered through the door to watch from behind my backand I came to be reminded of that day several times as I grew older.

God! I repeated over and over, looking first at the ceiling and then at my feet. God! Tie my shoes! It went on for some time. God, cant you hear me? I said for you to tie my shoes! Nothing happened, and I fell silent for a long moment. No doubt I had somehow to deal with this apparent rejection. Well, I said at last, quietly pondering aloud to myself, Im part of God. And then, in a high, cheerful voice, as though I had just felt for the first time the thrill of that reality: So Ill tie them myself!

That little bit of perennial wisdom, voiced as it was from my tiny head, amused my parents and then their friends at church. But, of course, it was not my wisdom. I had simply learned it at that very Sunday school. I am part of God, I am part of God. We children had all repeated it again and again every Sunday morning. God is Love, God is Love, and I am part of God. Nothing had been mentioned regarding the tying of shoes, but, as a little kid, I had to experiment somewhat to figure out the implications.

By now I have learned, through my growing years of experimentation and observation, a great deal about those implications. Also, by now, I have gone through many pairs of footwear, with and without laces: sandals, moccasins, wooden clogs, rubber slippers, and leather boots. In my fieldwork and travels, I have observed incidents of prophetic vision. I have watched varieties of traditional healings and invocational rituals. I have seen the honest and purposeful use of true magic. I have witnessed omniscience. Behind the myriad creations of costumes and customs found in all the contrasting cultures lies the same perennial wisdom. I have come to learn of that cosmological arrangement that accounts for the magnificent works and ways of mystics, magicians, and medicine people. I have learned the simple secret of the shaman, the sorcerer, the seerand I have come to see that it is in fact no secret at all. It is that all things are alive and all life is related.

In my childhood days, I spent many an afternoon and evening on the lap of our family teacher. Though I perhaps could not then grasp the cosmological concepts that came from his lips nor the metaphysical discussions he evoked among my parents and grandparents, I had free and total access to his abundant love and constant cheerfulness. I was the one who shook with his laughter as I sat on his lap.

I received a most delightful lecture from him one day intended for my own entertainment and education. It was about leprechauns. On and on he went as I bounced on his knee and watched him bob his head and wave his arms through the airand all I had done was mention the word. I simply wanted to know what it meant, and I inspired the most jubilant and animated expounding I had ever heard from him. Leprechauns! he declared. Most delightful little people! And you want to know all about leprechauns! His face flushed and his eyes sparkled as he described them for mefrom feathered cap to buckled boot. He almost whispered as he told of their benevolent hearts and deeds and their magical powers. And then he chuckled loudly and slapped me on the head and let me in on their wonderful talent for mischief.