A mystic, healer, shaman and teacher, the author’s journey raises many questions that challenge not only prevailing thought but also religious practices and teachings.Trapped in a world of normative behaviour and education, to which he intuitively knows he doesn’t belong, the author chronicles the signs and signals of the suppressed essence of his being and reveals universal interpretations of issues with the human body.
Windows and doors blew open upon reading this book—an account of the gifts the author has received and given as an “urban mystic.”
Bernie has escorted tortured spirits to the beyond, rid homes of disturbances, healed injuries, intuitively understood the origins of a person’s emotional distress and shepherded a return to equilibrium (including mine when once I sat in the chair across from him), changed weather patterns in aid of an altruistic goal—and more.
After a career in the left-brain corporate world, I struggle to embrace everything—but I keep myself open to it, aware of how shallowly I have lived, how little I have surrendered.
Many elements of what Bernie describes, however, are familiar, like the ability to turn dreams to the good. I long ago trained my dreaming self to reverse a catastrophic fall into flight.
I particularly appreciate Bernie’s emphasis on the body’s wisdom, a mainstay of alternative practice—and how he takes it further than I knew, whereby right knee problems mean something emotionally different from left knee issues. This may challenge me, yet I want only to say wow and maybe and I hope so.
“I hope so” because Bernie reminds me of what I intuitively know: that an injection of spirit world would steer my writing practice into exciting new places. I have taken a step or two down that path. I know, for example, that good editing depends on observing my body’s reaction to prose, and on tracing that subjective response to the writer’s objective techniques.
Bernie’s eye-opening book is propelling me to take a few steps more.
I'm still trying to process this matter-of-fact look at the extraordinary life of one Canadian Shaman.
Bernard Morin didn't try to convince me of anything, he simply relayed his own experiences over a lifetime of learning just how wondrous the world really is.
The alien abductions pulled me away from his story for a bit, but then I realized that the healing experiences that resonated strongly with me were part of the same man's story, so if I accept one part I need to accept it all.
In only 150 pages there is so much to take in that I feel like I will need to read this book again, and perhaps again.
A fascinating, no frills account of someone becoming themself – a powerful healer and Shamen. It’s the author’s total honesty and willingness to be vulnerable that make this book so compelling. Morin delivers a great interpretation of the relationship between physical symptoms and their meaning, and despite spiritual and alien encounters, he comes across as immensely down-to-earth and human. Although short, The Reluctant Shamen deserves to be read slowly and carefully as every word is measured and carries both meaning and weight, and it contains some beautiful writing and wisdom.
Often when one “comes in” with a gift there is no-one around to give the how-to manual of how to use it or find out why is it there. Sometimes one wonders if they are a “freak of nature” and the gift gets buried. Reading Bernard’s personal journey and reading his questioning may help us to realize the diversity of this human experience and that not all things are written in stone — some are written in the stars.