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Writer's pictureWizard Steve

My staff

My staff really has become a part of who I am and some amazing things have happened along the way.


I think the first incident that really got my notice was at a Hallowe’en party at Tapeley. I got talking to a woman who became interested in the staff. She was clearly troubled and asked whether the staff could absorb energy. “Yes.” I said.


“What about bad energy?”


“Energy is energy.” I replied.


She asked to hold my staff. I passed it over and watched as this poor woman focused entirely on the staff. She appeared to be holding on to it as if her life depended on it. She held on for ages. Eventually, she passed it back and said, “Thank you.” We chatted a bit more. I didn’t ask her anything about her thoughts.


As the evening wore on, I completely forgot about the incident, enjoying the party as one does. Until I went to bed. I had put the staff down and started to get undressed. All of a sudden I became acutely aware of the staff. It literally appeared to be vibrating. Whatever that woman had released, it was powerful. I grabbed the staff, ran outside and grounded it, releasing all that energy back into Mother.


One day, I was at a Maker Festival wandering about minding my own business when a lad suddenly jumped into my arms and gave me a massive hug. I was taken aback. He then looked at me and said, “You don’t remember me, do you.” I must admit, I had no idea and confessed so. He then proceeded to tell me a story of meeting a Wizard the previous year at this same festival. He told me how this Wizard had sat in his tent with him while he cried as he poured out his heart, confessing his woes and addiction to Cocaine, which he was ‘jacking up’. Since that meeting, he had packed in the Coke, got his act together, got a job and a decent girlfriend. He attributed this all to me. Whatever I said resolved his will. I was surprised. In truth, all I did was listen to him; provided the soundboard for him to find his own truth. I told him so and explained that he did it all himself. It was his choice.


Another lass spotted me at that same festival and handed me an ‘Angel’ card as a thank you for some words of wisdom I had apparently bestowed upon her. Whatever she took from those words, it had apparently changed her life for the better.



One of the most amazing stories involves the buzzard tail Chief had gifted me. Somewhere along the road, a feather dropped out. I picked it up and put it away on a shelf with the thought that a home for it would become evident at some point. Some weeks later, I was parked at the Rifleman’s in Glastonbury. I was sat chatting in the pub. I had got chatting to a bloke who introduced himself as Jim and who I have known as a friend for some years now. Jim had been telling me about himself and his interest in the teachings of native Americans. He mentioned that he has a breastplate full of feathers. He said that one of the feathers had dropped out a few weeks prior to our meeting. He had passed it on as is the custom. “Oh.”, I said. Before I said anymore, he explained that a replacement would appear. “Oh.”, I said again. “Wait there!” I went back to my caravan, grabbed the buzzard feather and returned. I gave the feather to Jim saying, “I believe this is for you.” As he accepted it, I told him the story of how I came to have the tail in the first place and how it had fallen out just a few weeks back.


“Wo! Hang on!”, he suddenly exclaimed. “Did you just say you was gifted this by Running Deer?”


“Yes, my mate, Chief Johnny Running Deer.”, I confirmed.


Jim was physically shaken. He said, “Running Deer is the name of my Spirit guide!”


I was astounded.


Now, along the way, I have met an array of people; some good, some bad and many in between. For some reason, early on on the festival circuit, I became acquainted with another Wizard. I have met and know a few Wizards, but this one is a bad Wizard. Wizard Ian is a Wizard, alright. He knows what he’s talking about. I have sat and listened to him talking. After a while, his talk becomes .... odd. I knew from first meeting that I didn’t like his energy and listening to him proved me correct. He would lapse into this fantasy he had where he would create this community. People would live together and share everything..... including mutual mastabation! By this point, most people would abandon their seats. He had been ejected from many festival sites for suggestive or inappropriate behaviour towards women.


Ian quickly became wary of me. It was obvious that I am a Wizard. He didn’t like it, especially as I got on well with most, regardless of their sex, I have no agenda and he knew that I was on to him. He was always trying to outsmart me or belittle me. One time, he even tried to curse my staff. I once allowed him to hold my staff, trusting in the Universe. He immediately tried all sorts of tricks, playing with my staff and attempting to instil all sorts of disharmonious vibes. After a while, I became concerned as to whether he would try to physically damage my staff, so I took ahold of my staff. He tried to continue his tricks, but the connecting energy caused him to break off. I didn’t need to say anything.


One of the last times I saw Wizard Ian or had anything to do with him was around a campfire at a festival somewhere. I was sat chatting to some-one. I became aware of Ian lurking. I kept half an eye on him, knowing that he was up to something. He had something in his hand and was tapping at it. ‘It’ was a mobile ‘phone, which became all too evident when he thrust it towards me like a microphone, saying, “So you are a Wizard, are you? Tell me something about Wizardry!”


Exasperated, I asked, “What do you want to know?” At this point, the person I had been chatting to piped up and lambasted him. Immediately, other people around the fire joined in. Before he or I could say another word the entire company around the campfire were laying into him, destroying his attempt to belittle me. He was reduced to a shell of a man in a moment. I leant forward and said, “That, is Wizardry.”

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2 Comments


Wizard Steve
Wizard Steve
Aug 26, 2020

Exactly

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Terri
Aug 26, 2020

Very interesting blog post. You did what the young man with addiction needed. Sometimes that's all someone needs is a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen to them, so they can work out their problems and find the right solution for them. The angel card is beautiful and you must have been there at the right time for that woman too. That's all we can hope for is that someone will be there to listen when we need it, and we can be there when they need someone too.

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