Excerpt from ch 8 On the ride home spiritual vampirism rose it’s ugly head in a perfect story to exemplify it.  ​ But this gal giving me a ride home was on a whole other level. I remained silent about why I left the house without a word. I was done with the charade, but still tried to be courteous and show interest in her job. As she drove, I kept my gaze away from her, watching the frosted, empty prairie fields with fir trees lined far across the land. To my amazement, a beautiful snowy-white owl was flying low and swift beside the car, looking right at me. It was so close; I pointed it out without thinking. It shocked her to see the great owl so near, silently flying beside the car, its spectacular wingspan right in her blind spot. The flight of great snowy owls makes hardly a sound. They are silent in their flying. The gal driving the car immediately claimed the experience as hers alone, going on about how the owl was present for her benefit. It was sad to witness this reaction to my sharing that sacred moment I recognized and revealed to her in the spirit of sharing nature’s symbolism. I could not have imagined reacting that way when others are present to experience the mastery and beauty of nature. But there she was, claiming the gift as hers while I sat silent. Another punch in the spiritual heart in response to spontaneous sharing that bursts from the heart when glory is witnessed. The owl was flying in her blind spot. I had the nonspiritual reaction of wishing I hadn’t shared it with someone who didn’t deserve to witness it. It was clear to me that the owl experience was an expression of “totem,” a natural object or animal believed by Native American tradition to have spiritual significance and symbolize a particular quality or concept. The snowy owl, flying silently, low and fast, looking toward me in the driver's blind spot, stole my breath in a way unlike the stifling air I had just experienced and was now grateful to be over. I shared the moment of witnessing beauty out of habit, without agenda, simply for its beauty and elegance. That intention and expression of joy meant nothing to her, but for me, it meant seeing and recognizing something she could not unless I shared it.  That was the true dilemma of sharing nature's beautiful messages. or photographs of the Avatar one considers sacred.  She tried to claim the grandeur as hers alone.  For me, the whole scenario was a metaphor for sharing anything spiritual with anyone, and/or charging money to point out what is obvious if one shares the beauty by being.  I went home, shut down my website with the photos, and decided not to publish the book I’d written.  I would repeat and rinse the contents for 12 more years, with a wider perspective and distance since Satya Sai Baba’s Mahasamadhi.  I had returned to my birthplace, where there was poverty and a lack of support. The pursuit of spiritual experiences or knowledge was about entitlement and selfishness, like grasping for something solid when it is water.  To be seen or claim to be spiritual. A lie one tells oneself.  My sharing of the Great beauty of the silent flying snowy owl, nature's language, vision, was not even on her radar as a gift; she would not have seen it unless I shared it.  I now wish I had kept silent and kept it for my own contemplation. My voice was muted by her sense of superiority and desire for all experiences and energies. That is a psychic vampire in the spiritual context.  People’s reactions to sharing reveal themselves.