Recently I spent one of the most intense periods in the 'Non Ordinary Realities' of shamanism I have ever experienced since I began my shamanic path. I was beginning the fourth and final session of my Two Year Shamanic Teacher Training with Sandra Ingerman, and up to this point there'd been nothing special to set this time apart from our previous times together. Little did I know that was about to change.
It has been a rough couple of years with the intense initiations of losses -- deaths, dreams, identity, power, relationships -- and as I sat in our luminous circle, feeling stronger and more empowered than, possibly, I ever had before, I was able to see those releases and trials as part of my training rather than extraneous things that kept randomly happening to me while I was trying to complete it. In that moment I could actually be grateful for those experiences of diving into hell and back because I had weathered the storms and, not just survived but was beginning to thrive in a world awash with possibilities and opportunities that my tenacity and resilience had opened up for me. So this was my mindset as we settled into exploring the main focus of the week -- Death and Dying -- one of my favorite shamanic subjects.
To familiarize our students with what it's like after death, so that they have some idea of what it's like for the spirits they work with on the other side who have neither body nor ego, one of the first shamanic journeys we do in teaching about death & dying is a dismemberment journey. This is a journey where a helping spirit or power animal breaks down your body (in the spirit realm) until you are nothing but spirit, before reconstructing you, usually either filtering out inharmonious elements or inserting a medicine object, such as a particular crystal, to increase one's personal power and well-being. Admittedly these can be gruesome and shocking if you don't understand what is going on, but for me they've become pretty run-of-the-mill, many times even requesting one from my spirit guides to help clear me of unwanted energy or confusion, or to reset me to my default settings. I had no idea how different this one would be or how it would change me...
So we began our journey and, arriving in the Spirit Realms, I waited to see who among my guides would show up for this task. It didn't take long for me to see Amaranth, my unicorn guide, casually walking up to me, his head bobbing with each step of his cloven hooves. Of course it would be him, I smiled to myself. One of the things we would be exploring this week was merging with a spirit helper, for which we were assigned to bring a mask and regalia. I had brought my unicorn mask, which I'd doctored up with bells and feathers and beads, so Amaranth would be the one I'd merge with, and it seemed very appropriate for him to show up at this his point. Before I could finish appreciating the congruence of his appearance, with a sudden, single, forward thrust of his head, Amaranth ran me through the chest, his horn piercing my heart completely and extending out my back. So unexpected was this that I physically gasped, not from pain for I didn't feel a thing, but the shear surprise of the act. Pausing only briefly, as if to allow my mind to catch up with what was happening, Amaranth then threw his head back, his horn ripping up through the top of my body, which just dissolved into powder, raining to the ground around me. A few side to side slashes, ala the Mark of Zorro, finished the bottom part of my body. As my unencumbered spirit hung there in the air, looking down at the pile of dust that had formerly been my body, I glanced over at Amaranth and there, still skewred on his horn, was my heart. Tenderly he laid it atop the mound of powder and withdrew his horn. I gazed at my heart lying there, a hole bored all the way through it, and I began to sob, physically where I sat in the room with my shamanic tribe.
So we began our journey and, arriving in the Spirit Realms, I waited to see who among my guides would show up for this task. It didn't take long for me to see Amaranth, my unicorn guide, casually walking up to me, his head bobbing with each step of his cloven hooves. Of course it would be him, I smiled to myself. One of the things we would be exploring this week was merging with a spirit helper, for which we were assigned to bring a mask and regalia. I had brought my unicorn mask, which I'd doctored up with bells and feathers and beads, so Amaranth would be the one I'd merge with, and it seemed very appropriate for him to show up at this his point. Before I could finish appreciating the congruence of his appearance, with a sudden, single, forward thrust of his head, Amaranth ran me through the chest, his horn piercing my heart completely and extending out my back. So unexpected was this that I physically gasped, not from pain for I didn't feel a thing, but the shear surprise of the act. Pausing only briefly, as if to allow my mind to catch up with what was happening, Amaranth then threw his head back, his horn ripping up through the top of my body, which just dissolved into powder, raining to the ground around me. A few side to side slashes, ala the Mark of Zorro, finished the bottom part of my body. As my unencumbered spirit hung there in the air, looking down at the pile of dust that had formerly been my body, I glanced over at Amaranth and there, still skewred on his horn, was my heart. Tenderly he laid it atop the mound of powder and withdrew his horn. I gazed at my heart lying there, a hole bored all the way through it, and I began to sob, physically where I sat in the room with my shamanic tribe.
Taken aback, I tried to stifle my teary sniffles, thinking, "Why am I crying?! Dismemberment is a happy thing! What's wrong with me!?" But there was no holding it back, and I decided it was best to literally flow with whatever comes up. Then as the tears continued to run down my cheeks, it dawned on me what the point of this particular dismemberment had been. All at once I realized how much I'd been holding inside this past year or two -- Grief, pain, anger, sorrow. All the things I hadn't previously allowed myself to feel began to move, flow, and finally release through the openings Amaranth had created in my heart. And so for a very long time I sat and did nothing but feel the waves of emotion washing over me, tears washing away years of hiding from and of holding back my true feelings, my true self.
Soon -- too soon though it'd seemed like an eternity -- it was time to begin wrapping up the journey and return to awareness of my physical body sitting cross-legged in the physical room somewhere in 'Ordinary Reality.' So Amaranth stepped forward from where he'd been quietly waiting just out of my conscious awareness and began the process of putting me back together, of "re-membering" me. He swirled his head in an ever widening circle, faerie sparkles and pixie dust dancing off the tip of his horn (I swear I heard the words, "Bibbidy-bobbidy-boo!"), and in kind the small pile of powder danced and swirled in correspondence until the dust devil it'd become coalesced into my body, and I stood embodied before my unicorn companion again. I was fully embodied but for one thing -- my wounded and punctured heart. It now hung in the air in front of me where I could see that the holes, as well as several cracks and battle scars, had been filled in with gold.
There is a Japanese art said to have begun in the 15th Century, called Kintsugi, which repairs broken pottery by gluing the pieces together with a lacquer infused with powdered gold. In so doing the damage is aesthetically incorporated into the piece as part of its history, making it more beautiful because of the breakages. This was my heart. Apparently Amaranth is partially Japanese... Could this have anything to do with the appearance of my Kirin helping spirit shortly thereafter (see my previous post For Kirin Out Loud)?
My new and improved heart floated toward me and disappeared into my chest. I hugged Amaranth and kissed him on the nose as the return drum beat sounded again, and looking into the depths of his liquid eyes, thanked him before turning my attention toward my physical body.
When we were back and grounded once more in 'Ordinary Reality' we were given a break because of the tendency of this to be an emotional journey. I didn't need much prompting before I was outside lying on the grass and crying again, letting the earth receive and transmute the remaining pain and emotions that streaked down my face. I allowed her to cradle my body, and I breathed her healing energies up directly into my heart. There have been very few times before that I felt so open and vulnerable, yet so safe and loved at the same time.
The intensity of this initial journey set the stage for the rest of the week, with countless transformations, shifts, and changes to come that shattered former beliefs about myself and who I was. The seed of who I was becoming was planted, and the cast-off emotions and thoughts fed that blossoming flower of a shaman I was growing into, rising out of the compost. This journey was pivotal, and perfect for integrating everything I'd learned and experienced up to that point as I stepped into my power. It was definitely an affair to re-member.
My heart with cracks and holes infused with gold.