There once was a shamaness that lived by herself in a huge city with tall skyscrapers and miles of cement walkways. She drank the water that came from the municipal treatment plant or sometimes drank imported water in bottles that claimed to come from fresh springs. But, she knew better. It was all tap water; just some had fancier names than others.

This shamaness was named Hillary. Why? Other shamans had names like: “She Who Whispers With The Wind” or “He Who Strikes With Thunder.” Nope. She got Hillary. She thought it was a joke the universe had played on her. The universe liked to play lots of jokes. The universe is very playful, much like Hillary, short for Hillarious, she figured.

At any rate, Hillary got tired of drinking the awful-tasting city water and decided that she would dream herself a new dream. Shamans do that, you know. They dream up their own realities. Yes, everyone else in this world thinks they’re subject to some form of authority, whether it is God or boss, but Hillary wasn’t into all that. Hillary was the creator of her own reality, so one day she chose to dream a different dream. She chose to dream of a world without water; A world where she’d never have to taste that disgusting city water again.

“Why not?” She told herself. “Water isn’t essential for life. Only Spirit is essential for life.” So, she went to sleep and when she awoke she was lying on a beach, her hair matted with sand and a beautiful expanse of the clearest, blue, salt water going from horizon to horizon.

“Fuck!” That was all she said. The universe was playing a joke on her again and she had instigated it!

Well, after the initial shock, being the shaman that she was, she decided that this was just perfect. It had to be. She created it and even though it wasn’t quite what she had planned, it was perfect in the moment. She just needed to explore this dream and find out why she had created what she had created. Sometimes shamans do that, you know. They create powerful dreams not understanding that subconsciously they want something that they aren’t willing to admit they want. So, she got up and decided to go exploring.

She found she was on an island, which had plenty of coconuts and fruits and even some wild game. But, the interesting thing about this island was that there appeared to be only stagnant or sea water around. There were no springs. No ponds that looked good enough to drink. They all had a brown or pink look about them. But, that was okay. Hillary didn’t want to drink. She did after all want to create a world without water. Water that was undrinkable was the next best thing.

“I can live off the water in the fruits,” She shrugged to herself. She could easily dream up fruits. She just didn’t want water. Shamans are used to hardships. They can live many years on nothing but Spirit alone. Yeah, it might be uncomfortable, but it wasn’t life threatening.

Next on her list was to talk to the Spirit of the Island. She wanted to know where she was. So, she lay down and went to sleep to introduce herself to the Spirit of the Island.

The Island Spirit was a beautiful, but rather sad, matronly, woman spirit. “Here I have a paradise,” she lamented, “and yet, I feel something is missing.”

“Water.” Hillary laughed knowing exactly what that element was.

“But, I have plenty of water.” The Island Spirit interjected. “Beautiful expanses of sea water offset by the contrast of poisoned, stagnant waters inland. I have the light and the shadow of water!”

“It’s undrinkable,” Hillary noted.

“Who needs drinkable water?” The Island Spirit asked with a frown creasing her forehead. “You’re the first human to come onto this island…”

“Shamaness!” Hillary corrected her.

“Shamaness! Fine. At any rate, we normally don’t need large pools of drinkable water; it’s unnecessary for this ecosystem. If you don’t like it, you’re the shamaness! Dream up a pond!”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” Hillary squirmed. “I came here to see what it would be like living without water. I didn’t know I’d be surrounded by it, unable to drink it.”

“It’s your dream!” The Island Spirit shrugged.

It sure was, Hillary noted. Maybe it could be fun? She was going to make it fun, she decided.

So, the next morning she got up and started to meet all the island creatures. She noticed something odd: They were all female. They were by far the most pleasant creatures she had ever met too. So accepting, so nurturing, so calm. So much unlike all the male shamans she had been around. Hillary’s soul decided that the island was a sparse environment but that it provided her with such an overabundance of female energy that she had never had before and she decided she liked it. She was tired of all the male dramas of control and dreams of success and power. She just wanted to sleep a little while rocked by the hand of Mother Earth. She knew her place was back in the world of men, but for now, she thought it was a lovely dream she had dreamt and was in no hurry to return to provide balance to the male energies in the world with her own innate female ones. It had been a rather cruel existence, that one. Yes, she had chosen it, but just as it had been agreed upon before she was born, she could change it in the moment now to something new. And she had. She was here on the island, was she not?

“I’m taking a vacation…” She smiled. So, she spent the next few months getting up and walking in the morning and re-discovering her feminine side, the side she had hidden from view because of the indecencies of the male world she had found herself in. But, here on the island, she felt safe to express that side of her and she was finding a calm, inner sense of Self that started to dream a new dream. She couldn’t help herself. She was a dreamer. Always making new dreams. She realized that there was a form of creation that was a strictly feminine activity. Whereas men thought that building structures and companies was creation, true creation sprang from the heart. What men and women were doing in the outside world was maintenance. See, we weren’t all born women inside. Hillary knew this. The majority of women in the world she had left were men in disguise. It was one of those grand jokes the universe likes to play and only the ones in the know got to have a good laugh!

On a subconscious level, she had understood this: Form and function are different than spirit. Spirit can be male and live in a female body. Male spirits can live in a female body too, but they were quite rare. Why? Well, as the joke goes: When the Goddess created earth, she split the Spirits into three types. There were to be male spirits, female spirits, and those that we shall call “Other” for lack of a better term. The Goddess then asked each creation what it would like to be before they were actually birthed on the physical plane. They could choose to be a male with a male spirit. A female with a male spirit or any combination they liked. It was to make the game more interesting, you see?

So, one by one, the spirits that preferred female creations all wailed as they viewed the future potentialities for this physical dimension.

“How will we ever be able to assert our feminine Self when the creation model for this system is about objective imagery? My Goddess! You know that the female strength lies in the subjective arena, not in its objective manifestations!”

“It’s your choice,” The Goddess smiled, a hint of laughter on her lips.

So, the majority of all Essence Spirits chose to be male spirits inside for this particular creation, even though in Essence Spirit we are both. They took the easy way out. They knew that by choosing to be male for this sojourn they would be able to manipulate the physical symbols in a much more efficient manner than the female spirit.

Then there were a few of us who got pissed off at the Goddess!

“ The game is rigged!” We exclaimed. “It is unfair to place the female Spirit beneath the male Spirit. We are all both in essence. Why the drama? Why the control? This is an abomination!”

“ It’s your choice.” The Goddess repeated with some mystery in her tone.

So, the warrior women of old lined up to take their place as the representatives of the feminine energy on the physical dimension. It took an Amazon soul to take on such a challenge. And when one Amazon decides to take a vow to free other women, we all do. So, in unison, each Amazon decided they would be born with a female spirit in female bodies. We didn’t like the odds but we would not let the feminine energy die due to the decisions of the majority.

But there were some of us that saw other potentialities. They said: “There is more than one way to skin a deer.” They usually were the ones with the biggest sense of humor. We called them “The Tricksters.”

“The game may be rigged,” They laughed. “But, we will change our way of being in the moment. No one will ever know what we truly are inside.”

Some of those that were going to represent the female energies through the choice of a female spirit chose to be born in a male body.

“ I may hold a male body in this dimension, but I shall express my female spirit within.” Ventured one, doubtfully.

That opened the floodgates. Soon other spirits were widening their choices too. They decided to be born with female spirits in male bodies or as male or female bodies in the spirit category we called “Other.”

“ We will infiltrate the majority by stealth,” The Others jumped up and down in excitement. “We will cause them to trip over themselves and their ideas of power and societal roles. We will even show that relationship isn’t just about two opposites merging but that relationship is about two souls merging.”

These were the ones who couldn’t wait to get started even though the rest of us thought this experiment by the Goddess was lunacy.

So, the joke is that most of the time, about 70% of the time, it is two male spirits talking and interacting with each other in this dimension, regardless of what form they chose as their sexual identity. 17% of the time we are talking to those in the category of “Other” that were playing tricks on us. Only around 13% of the time was anyone actually conversing with a full-blown female spirit.

Hillary knew this before she had decided she no longer liked the taste of city tap water. And she had decided that if the Goddess could create such a mess than she as Creator in her own world, would venture to create one without water. It couldn’t be any less stark than the world without kindred female spirits. Yes, she had had contact with a number of other female spirits, but they were so spread out geographically and so bogged down by the demands on them, as they held that tone for the rest of humanity, that many times she did not get to spend enough time with them. She didn’t know how to dream up another Shamaness who was willing to spend time with her. You cannot force a Shaman or Shamaness into anything. They either want to do it or they won’t do it. Many of them were very busy people. So, she’d take the next best thing. She’d dreamed up the female physical form by which she surrounded herself. It did have an intrinsic beauty and she found herself admiring it for a long time, but then the thirst started to become more noticeable.

It had started as a scratch in her throat. She’d downed the coconut milk but it didn’t seem to have the purity she desired. Pure water, what was that like to drink? Had she ever had a drink from that well? Did it even exist? She pushed the thoughts from her head. She’d never seen a glass of pure water in her life and she wondered if she even knew how to dream one up. Then, she went on her morning walk. That was the day she saw the pond. It was a beautiful, stark blue pond. She wondered about that color. Blue was usually reserved as a male color. Brown, reds, pinks and oranges were female. Greens were females too. But, this pond was blue. It radiated an entrancing energy that was absolutely divine. The Goddess maybe had created it? Hillary doubted that. This was her dream, but she didn’t remember creating this pond.

“ All the water on this island is either stagnant or poisonous,” She remembered what the Island Spirit had told her. Hillary knew that the Island Spirit was just another aspect of herself, but it didn’t matter. She was also the Island Spirit.

Hillary went and crouched by the pond staring across its lovely expanse. It was beautiful. It was soothing to watch it sit and wiggle its way across the banks of its shore. It was inviting her. It was like the pond spirit was beckoning her to take a little dip.

She stuck her feet in and felt the coolness of its touch. It was absolutely frightening.

“ What on earth am I doing?” She muttered to herself, as she stumbled backwards. “I did not even ask permission I was so hypnotized! I have to leave this pond, right away! I don’t want to be around water! It’ll just remind me how thirsty I am!”

The rest of the day she found her thoughts drifting back to that pond. It was different. There was no way around it. Hillary was trained in sensing energy and she had never felt anything quite like what this creation was manifesting. It had piqued her curiosity. The next day she decided to take her walk around the shore of the pond. She wasn’t really there to see the pond, she told herself, she just wanted to have her morning walk, that was all. And each day she walked her thirst grew stronger. She coughed dryly sometimes as she stared at the water’s clear surface.

She spent a couple of months walking around the pond admiring it’s every nook and cranny. As she did, her thirst continued to grow. But, thirst is nothing new to an Amazon spirit like Hillary. She ignored it. She instead said to herself: “One day, I should like to bathe in this pond but I should really ask permission from the pond spirit first.”

Hillary had always been taught that it wasn’t polite to intrude on others without permission. She could have jumped in at any time, much like when she had been invited to do so that first day. But, she had declined and now she was wondering: was the invitation still open?

So, she daydreamed her way in the land of the subjective to the pond spirit’s home to make a formal introduction. She searched for that energetic signature the blue pond was emanating in the physical and located it in the ethers.

“Hello, Sir, my name is Hillary.” She sent the thought projection out as she vibrated back to form in that astral realm and bowed low in a sign of respect. “I have noticed your lovely blue energy and I am wondering if you would mind if I take a dip in your pond? I do not wish to drink. I merely wish to wash myself and frolic a bit.”

“Hello, Hillary,” a maiden woman’s image coalesced before Hillary’s eyes as she arose. She had a delicate figure with ivory skin, golden hair, and lavender eyes. She held a blue shield in front of her on which was the face of a man. “My name is Martina.”

The color drained from Hillary’s face as she realized the mistake she had made.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I assumed you were a male. I have never met a female spirit in a male form even though it has been rumored since time began that such choices are made on occasion.”

Martina laughed an infectious giggle.

Hillary found herself laughing too despite her embarrassment.

“Do you still wish to take that dip?” Martina asked slyly.

“If you so allow it, Mistress Martina, I should very much like to take that dip now.”

“And shall you drink of my waters?” Martina asked brightly.

“I shall have to ponder that option…” Hillary replied in all seriousness. “The Island Spirit says all of the bodies of water on this Island are stagnant or poisonous.”

“Mine are not.” Martina replied.

“But you represent as male and as such, you are poison to my system.”

“You see for yourself, I am female.”

“This is confusing for me.” Hillary paused, her eyes shifting towards the ground before she ventured on. “If you are female, then it is possible you prefer only males to drink from your waters?”

“Leave me…” Mistress Martina blushed a shade of red unbeknownst to physical creation. “You have no right to question my privacy in such a manner!”

“What shall we do with each other now?” Hillary shot back at her. “I can not leave you alone, even if you desire it. You are a kindred female spirit. It is no wonder I am drawn inexplicably to your presence!”

“Come and play in my waters…” Martina’s embarrassment subsided. “We shall have some days of frolic and then we can decide what we shall do.”

“I can not do otherwise. I’m drawn to you out of pure thirst. I cannot ignore it much longer. Just let me bathe. But, don’t drown me. Don’t even fall accidentally down my throat. I can’t bear it anymore.”

“Sister,” Martina approached Hillary. “Just bathe, darling. Bathe. It shall freshen your spirit and we shall have a spot of fun should the creatures decide to watch.”

The next morning Hillary stepped out for her morning walk, stood at the edge of the pond, took off her clothes and stepped in. She thought she would faint of delight. Martina’s pond essence swept past her naked body touching every fiber of her being. It was shockingly feminine in energy and Hillary had never felt anything so intimate and caring in her entire life. She wondered if she would ever dare drink the water though. She wondered if Martina even really wanted her to. She had never said whether she wanted Hillary to drink or not. She had merely asked what her interest was in her.

As often as she could now, Hillary would sweep by the pond and try to take a moment to touch Martina’s pond essence. She couldn’t help herself. She would spend time watching the pond lick the shore and she even noticed the fish swimming in it. She knew it was a fresh water pond. She knew it would not harm her and yet she refused to drink. Instead, day after day, she came and visited whether it was in the physical or her dreams. It was the same to Hillary. But, she couldn’t remember those dreams now. The physical pond aspect had her fascinated. It was so male. How could a male form hide such a female essence?

She did not wish to invade Martina’s privacy again so she stayed silent. She didn’t talk unless it was minor chitchat. She did not know what to say. She couldn’t leave and yet she couldn’t talk about what she wanted to talk about. So, she spent days sitting by the pond talking about things that made no sense. She just wanted to talk.

One day, she was bathing and Martina sent a little fish to nibble on Hillary’s ankle. Pain shot through Hillary’s foot as she hopped frantically out of the pond.

“Ouch!” Hillary grabbed her foot and looked with distrust at the pond. “Martina, I know you did this on purpose!”

She could hear the peals of laughter coming from Martina’s essence.

In her haste to leave the pond, Hillary had splashed water all over herself. Some had landed on her lip. She licked it dry and wobbled with excitement. Water. It had been so long since she had any and now she felt it’s wet, slippery intensity slip down her throat. It tasted sweet, not salty, and not dirty, not like tap water.

The anger subsided and Hillary sat down to ponder her life. She realized she wanted to drink from the pond and always had. It wasn’t the water; it’s the spirit of the water that had offended Hillary in the city. The more she understood about herself and her own needs to express her innate vulnerability, the more she would be able to ingest any type of water and turn it into fresh water. In her new dream she would open her faucet and it wouldn’t matter what water poured forth. As soon as it touched her lips, it would become sweet. She had that power within her; she just did not know how to express it. Martina was teaching her how. Maybe one day she would drink more of Martina’s water and maybe she would choose to go back to the city. It mattered not. The shamaness had re-awakened and remembered that she created her own reality, even the water that flows through it. It was all good.