Introduction To The Infinite Compass By Jay (Sparrowhawk) Ray

The concept for this book came from the changing experiences over 35 years of my practice and my shamanic training. As a way of clearing the energy from previous clients and focusing for the next, I developed many techniques. My shamanic training introduced me to working with the Four Directions not only as a focus for me, but as a way of creating sacred space for us both.

Over time, this opening ritual gained an important place within the session as a whole. It invited the client to ground themselves, being present while exploring the energy of Earth connecting both of us, before focusing on their issues. As this practice developed, I found myself changed by casting the circle, honouring of the principles contained in the ritual. Deepening into the awareness of the wisdom that was contained within the ritual itself was enormous.  A nice opening exercise it was not. I realised that it was a portal into the macrocosm: a template teaching us the meaning of our lives within the whole. It was an instruction manual in navigating this material existence, through drawing on the potential of the Quantum field through the decision-making process. As the consequences unfold, and learnings accumulate, we find our individual purpose for being, along with the path to follow to get there.

The cross within the circle held such immense understanding for me, I could only hope my clients connected with it in their own way and time. As it unfolded itself for me, I offered it to them. Some of this was inevitably subliminal. I can never be sure exactly how much they take from the process even now, but as its mysteries unraveled for me, I felt a growing urgency to express it more widely though the implication was so vast that I couldn’t begin to imagine how. That was several years ago. In several more, still using the process in practice, I started excitedly thrashing out pages for this book, only to realise I had gone completely off-track, having no idea how to find the way back. A lesson that applies to the larger picture of life, no doubt. Nothing is by accident. As Zach Bush says, “It’s always the right path”.

Losing our way is part of the opportunity of learning. How easy it is to take what later seems to be a wrong turn, a wrong choice, ending up anywhere but where we thought we were aiming. The project stopped. It was about a year before I was willing to try again, only to discover that I had completely lost the first draft somewhere in the mists of the internet cloud. Starting again, much slower, I managed to get down an introduction and a piece of the first chapter, still having no idea how to say what I wanted to. I came to a halt once again. In 2020, frustrated by the first Covid lockdown, badly needing a creative outpouring, I was fortuitously introduced to Nine Gates, Entering the Mind of Poetry by Jane Hirshfield. A section read aloud blew on the embers in me, lighting a spark of potential.

I am primarily an orator. As a teacher of Psychosynthesis and shamanic studies, I would often find words flowing through me, opening myself, and ultimately, my students, up to new concepts. The rapt expression on their faces whenever it occurred alerted me to what was happening. The impact of information delivered in this way seemed greater than the alternative. Eventually I started to allow the flow to take me, throwing away notes and preparation, letting the material express itself. I must confess to feeling apprehensive at first, but the results were worth it. As a result, it was easier for me to become a channel for the compass ritual once it began.  My working methodology had changed over the years. Rather than my work being a tidy, controlled, intellectual affair as it was in the beginning, it had become fluid and intuitive. The only drawback in having no notes was that the words, once spoken, disappeared.

When I wrote my first two books, I had copious notes from the courses I had developed on each subject. It was from them that I had the skeletal structure for the later books. There were no notes to fall back on for this one. Trying to put these concepts into written words felt like catching a fish only to have it slither through my fingers. Nine Gates was no accident. It made the observation that writing, rather than speaking alone, allows the recorded words to speak back to you, not only through you. You can converse with them, adding, subtracting, moving them around, giving them space to become what they need to be. This was so different from writing notes and sticking only to them. Writing about the ritual was once again showing me a way out of the cul-de-sacs in which I found myself. We all end up in them from time to time in our lives. If we don’t find the exit, if we don’t allow ourselves the flexibility to change, we are likely to spend our whole lives trapped there. Alternatively, if we become aware when we find ourselves periodically caught, we can make new choices, leading to an expanded reality, freeing us to grow. The alternative, wandering around in the cultural maze, is not so appealing when you know there are other options available. Sometimes we just need a compass as Nine Gates was for me. But the external trigger only shows us the internal pointer to our pathway, inviting us to the lessons that our choices are uncovering. When this happens, the maze becomes a labyrinth. In a labyrinth there are no dead ends. The path always leads to the Center allowing us to weave in and out of our growth process, recognising we are never stuck, just waiting for the right information to show us the next step.

This book is modeled on that principle. Many times, I had to wait until I got there to find out where it was going. But it knew. In this it was a mirror of my whole life. I came to believe that it was showing me the truth about living. Thank you for joining me on it. This is not an academic text. Much of what I have written has been arrived at through internal research, the synchronicities that have informed my journey. Through working with others over the years, I have been brought to understand a great deal. Life experience, theirs, and mine, have become templates on the journey forward.

Paths are everywhere. As many as there are people to walk them. We are all Pathfinders in our own right. The question we are always asking is ‘where do they lead?’ To know we must take that journey. The destination is not what matters. There are lessons waiting for us along the way. It’s not enough to only spot them. Awareness is the first step not the only one. We can’t just ‘think’ our way from path to path.  We have to live them in a three- dimensional way. Life is three-dimensional, requiring committing to choice and action. Then we wait to see what unfolds. And that is the greatest lesson of all.