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The Shamanic Masculine

I am looking across a bare room at a doorway. Mysteriously, a handsome young man appears on the other side of it. As he stands motionless, looking into the distance, and I view him in profile. He doesn’t seem to notice that I am present, or maybe the doorway was actually a portal through which I am viewing him remotely.

In an instant his clothes disappear and he is beautiful. To my surprise, he is tattooed from his collarbone to his wrists and ankles. The tattoo is as shocking as it is exquisite. Shocking because when clothed there was no imagining the complexity that was hidden underneath, no way to guess that these intensely beautiful patterns existed out of view. Gliding gracefully, and in harmony with the contours of his body, the tattoo is so compelling that I know it has its own soul, its own life.

With just a moment to witness his reveal, he walks forward and out of my view.