One of my all time favorite television shows is Early Edition. If you haven't seen it, the main premise of the show is that the protagonist, Gary Hobson, suddenly begins to receive the local Chicago newpaper. The thing is, though, that it's always the paper for the following day. Because of this, he realizes he has the opportunity to prevent some of the terrible things that happen, because he knows exactly where and when they will happen before they become news.
My favorite episode, one that has made a huge impression on me and that I bring to mind when ever I feel overwhelmed and useless to make any real changes in the world, is one where there are two catastrophies that happen in a single day -- a plane crash that kills a lot of people, and a bicycle accident that kills a little girl. As fate would have it, Gary can only right one of these pending disasters and must choose which one he will fix, and which one will result in death because of his decision.
My memory is not exact on the plot points, but I believe this is how it turned out -- The little girl was closer, so he focused on changing the situation that was right in front of him. As he is standing in the hospital, where he has brought the girl, with injuries but still alive, he realizes that the time had passed to save the plane load of people. According to his edition of the paper the plane would have already crashed by that time.
Suddenly, rushing down the hall comes a pilot -- the pilot of the plane that was suppose to have crashed. He is the father of the little girl, and when he got the call she was in the hospital, they post-poned or cancelled the flight so he could get to the hospital to be with his daughter. By saving the little girl, Gary had saved everyone on that previously ill-fated plane.
Thus has this episode become an important modern-day parable in my personal mythology. I don't know what your experience of life is, and this may seem like just a big coincidence just to make a good story for TV, but my life actually does work like that. There is no such thing as coincidence, and the synchronicities that happen are sometimes breath-taking. Every little thing we do, by following our path one step at a time, attending to what is directly in front of us, ripples outward with effects we can not even fathom. We do not have to save the world -- "Think globaly, act locally." Every thing is connected. It is the web of life after all, and everytime a thread is tugged in one place, it is felt everywhere else.
At least that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Quest For The Hol-Z Grail
Recently a fellow Shamanic Practitioner friend introduced a very intriguing proposal to me. Despite our lofty spiritual aspirations and callings, we have both had our individual struggles with Zoloft and our unsuccessful attempts at trying to get off of it. Then she read an article by a woman who did a shamanic journey to meet the heart medication she takes, to find out that "Medicine is medicine." My friend's inspiration spread to me when she told me about this, and she asked if I wanted to take my own 'Journey with Zoloft,' as she would, then we could compare notes. What an awesome idea, I thought, and then, life being what it is, a month went by before I got the chance to take that journey.
I tried not to get to down on myself for procrastinating, trying to remind myself that everything happens in its own time, and when the opportunity occurred last night, I grabbed it. It was the first meeting of of a new Community Journey Circle in Seattle and, since one of the three journeys we did was a personal journey, I jumped at the chance to do a journey to the Spirit of Zoloft...
Instantly I am on his back as he runs all out, hooves churning the snowy field beneath us. And as we zip across this white plain with the blanket of a dark, moonless night hanging above, I see rising before us this gargantuan head, all lit up and hovering over the snow. The misshapen face looks like something out of The Yellow Submarine and it laughs maniacally through slabs of teeth, jutting out in every direction. There is no mistaking the threatening demeanor of this mad king, but Nathaniel doesn't slow a single iota on our charge toward it, nor is there any hesitation as we plunge through the chin of the face.
Though I can't say that I was surprised that the head turned out to be a hologram, the entire scene reminding me of when Dorothy and her companions first confronted the Wizard of Oz, I was dumbstruck by what was contained with in it. We came to a full stop and I found myself gazing at this shaft of white light, like a pillar in front of me, which held, floating in its midst, a golden, glowing grail. Not your run-of-the-mill, garden-variety holy grail, mind you. This one had antlers stretching out from either side of its brim.
As I adjusted to this sight, and the radiance of light that bathed this chamber I found myself in, I glimpsed beyond the grail a shadowy figure. Well, perhaps 'shadowy' is not the correct term, there being such abundant light present, but details were lacking. All I could tell of the figure was that its cloaked back was to me, and his head bore similiar antlers to those of the grail. "Herne!" I thought, this particular incarnation of the Lord of the Forest playing a major role in my personal mythology and fed by similar images from the Robin of Sherwood television series.
I watched the left arm of the figure slip the cloak aside slightly, as the great head turned toward me, the antlers pausing at a dapper 45 degree angle. Then, whether the antlers just disappeared or were removed by the figure, it was a tall, dark-haired man that gained substance as he approached me. He bowed his head and took a knee before me, then kissing my finger as though it was encompassed by a ring of royalty, expressed his honor at being allowed to serve me.
He stood, and turning toward the shaft of light, drew the glowing chalice from where it hovered in the air. He offered it to me, and as I took the grail in my hand and gazed at the white, glistening, liquid substance it held with in it, he said, "It is the cup of life."
"There are many avenues home, none any less Divine than any other. This is simply the one you chose, the one you created, and it is my deepest honor to be of service to you, to support you on your path, and to allow you to focus on the fertile, virile, and creative aspects of your life."
As I heard the call-back beat on the drum and knew it was time to return from this journey, I asked one more question. "Will I always need you?"
"Of course not," he smiled.
I tried not to get to down on myself for procrastinating, trying to remind myself that everything happens in its own time, and when the opportunity occurred last night, I grabbed it. It was the first meeting of of a new Community Journey Circle in Seattle and, since one of the three journeys we did was a personal journey, I jumped at the chance to do a journey to the Spirit of Zoloft...
***
As usual, as I entered the Journey, I was greeted by Nathaniel, or more correctly, Nathaniel's nose. It has become his signature way of meeting me in the Lower World, and I can't tell you the joy that spills from my heart whenever I see that fuzzy reindeer nose almost touching my own. I scritch the proffered softness before me in greeting, then tell Nathaniel why I'm there. "Can you please take me to the Spirit of Zoloft?"Instantly I am on his back as he runs all out, hooves churning the snowy field beneath us. And as we zip across this white plain with the blanket of a dark, moonless night hanging above, I see rising before us this gargantuan head, all lit up and hovering over the snow. The misshapen face looks like something out of The Yellow Submarine and it laughs maniacally through slabs of teeth, jutting out in every direction. There is no mistaking the threatening demeanor of this mad king, but Nathaniel doesn't slow a single iota on our charge toward it, nor is there any hesitation as we plunge through the chin of the face.
Though I can't say that I was surprised that the head turned out to be a hologram, the entire scene reminding me of when Dorothy and her companions first confronted the Wizard of Oz, I was dumbstruck by what was contained with in it. We came to a full stop and I found myself gazing at this shaft of white light, like a pillar in front of me, which held, floating in its midst, a golden, glowing grail. Not your run-of-the-mill, garden-variety holy grail, mind you. This one had antlers stretching out from either side of its brim.
As I adjusted to this sight, and the radiance of light that bathed this chamber I found myself in, I glimpsed beyond the grail a shadowy figure. Well, perhaps 'shadowy' is not the correct term, there being such abundant light present, but details were lacking. All I could tell of the figure was that its cloaked back was to me, and his head bore similiar antlers to those of the grail. "Herne!" I thought, this particular incarnation of the Lord of the Forest playing a major role in my personal mythology and fed by similar images from the Robin of Sherwood television series.
I watched the left arm of the figure slip the cloak aside slightly, as the great head turned toward me, the antlers pausing at a dapper 45 degree angle. Then, whether the antlers just disappeared or were removed by the figure, it was a tall, dark-haired man that gained substance as he approached me. He bowed his head and took a knee before me, then kissing my finger as though it was encompassed by a ring of royalty, expressed his honor at being allowed to serve me.
He stood, and turning toward the shaft of light, drew the glowing chalice from where it hovered in the air. He offered it to me, and as I took the grail in my hand and gazed at the white, glistening, liquid substance it held with in it, he said, "It is the cup of life."
"There are many avenues home, none any less Divine than any other. This is simply the one you chose, the one you created, and it is my deepest honor to be of service to you, to support you on your path, and to allow you to focus on the fertile, virile, and creative aspects of your life."
As I heard the call-back beat on the drum and knew it was time to return from this journey, I asked one more question. "Will I always need you?"
"Of course not," he smiled.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Paper Tigers and Invisible Fences
I've been thinking about something for the last couple days. A while back someone was telling me that their dog had figured out that, if he gets a running start and jumps at the last minute, the invisible fence hurts for a moment, but then he's free to roam where ever he wants. What an awesome metaphor for dealing with our fears! I've been kind of edging up to some of my fears lately, which is why I was thinking of this, and what I keep asking myself is, "Do I want to be the person that lives on this side of the invisible fence, hemmed in by boundaries that don't really exist? Or do I want to be the person that challenges those boundaries, maybe go through some temporary pain, then live on the other side of those boundaries where the world is expansive and I'm free to go where I want?"
So much of the time, speaking from my own experience, we live within these invisible barriers of pain, and when we hit those barriers, and start to feel pain we back away, and thus our world remains small, unchanging, and ungrowing. From a recent Soul Retrieval I performed, and this didn't really strike me until I heard the words coming out of my mouth, I realized that many times when I start to feel those painful fears and doubts, I find myself thinking I'm going backwards. "What am I doing here again with these feelings?" The truth of the matter is, when I'm feeling those things, I am not regressing, but am moving forward because I am encountering the invisible fence of fears that up to this point has defined the size of my world, as well as my identity, and the dimensions of expression I have in said world.
On the rare occasion that it occurs to me that this is what's happening, I can actually shift my perspective by seeing the purpose in the discomfort and/or pain, and see it more as the heat a piece of metal must go through to become a sword. It's literally growing pains. If I want to live in a more expansive world, I'm going to have to go through this experience sooner or later. If I don't do it now, I will have to do it again sometime. So, while I'm in the neighborhood...
Along with that, another metaphor (What's a metaphor? It's just a little smaller than a metaphive.) that works for me around dealing with fears is the 'Paper Tiger.' Here's a couple pages, from my Putar and the Preserver comic I drew, that illustrates that idea --
...there really is nothing to fear," my younger counterpart goes on to say.
When I start to go into fear mode, if I can muster the presence of mind to be aware of what's going on, I can see whatever it is I am fearing standing in front of me, and it can look extremely ferocious and scary, but the key word is "Look." No matter how it appears, it is only made of paper. It is like a cardboard stand-up. Though it appears frightening or terrifying from some angles, it is really two-dimensional and has no depth. Knowing this I can then see myself pushing it over, hear it crash to the ground, and see the open path ahead that this fear blocked. I can move beyond that fear to become the person who lives on the other side of that invisible fence.
So much of the time, speaking from my own experience, we live within these invisible barriers of pain, and when we hit those barriers, and start to feel pain we back away, and thus our world remains small, unchanging, and ungrowing. From a recent Soul Retrieval I performed, and this didn't really strike me until I heard the words coming out of my mouth, I realized that many times when I start to feel those painful fears and doubts, I find myself thinking I'm going backwards. "What am I doing here again with these feelings?" The truth of the matter is, when I'm feeling those things, I am not regressing, but am moving forward because I am encountering the invisible fence of fears that up to this point has defined the size of my world, as well as my identity, and the dimensions of expression I have in said world.
On the rare occasion that it occurs to me that this is what's happening, I can actually shift my perspective by seeing the purpose in the discomfort and/or pain, and see it more as the heat a piece of metal must go through to become a sword. It's literally growing pains. If I want to live in a more expansive world, I'm going to have to go through this experience sooner or later. If I don't do it now, I will have to do it again sometime. So, while I'm in the neighborhood...
Along with that, another metaphor (What's a metaphor? It's just a little smaller than a metaphive.) that works for me around dealing with fears is the 'Paper Tiger.' Here's a couple pages, from my Putar and the Preserver comic I drew, that illustrates that idea --
...there really is nothing to fear," my younger counterpart goes on to say.
When I start to go into fear mode, if I can muster the presence of mind to be aware of what's going on, I can see whatever it is I am fearing standing in front of me, and it can look extremely ferocious and scary, but the key word is "Look." No matter how it appears, it is only made of paper. It is like a cardboard stand-up. Though it appears frightening or terrifying from some angles, it is really two-dimensional and has no depth. Knowing this I can then see myself pushing it over, hear it crash to the ground, and see the open path ahead that this fear blocked. I can move beyond that fear to become the person who lives on the other side of that invisible fence.
"Beloved one, when you first and finally come to that realization that there is nothing to fear, there is such a feeling of peace, such a feeling of empowerment, a feeling that, “I can do all things through him who strengtheneth me.” Well, who is this “him” that strengthens you? It is yourSelf, your own—capital “S”—Self, the divinity of you that you are now beginning to take hold of and remember, the divinity of you that allows you to live the drama, the divinity of you that has been from before time began, that gives you the strength and the power to do all things."
~Jeshua
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Cut a-CORD-ingly
I've had a number of people asking me about this, so I thought I'd write a blog entry because it may be helpful to others as well.
In shamanism, as well as a number of other spiritual practices, there is something known as "Cord Cutting." In a nutshell, we have cords of connection with everyone we are in relationship with, whether it's as family, lovers, friends, acquaintances, but usually the closer the relationship the more cords there are connecting us.
These cords are basically where on-going energy exchanges take place, so ideally these are exchanges of love and light which empower and feed us, but of course not all of them are like that. In some situations, extreme examples being co-dependency or abusive relationships, these connections can be where energetic tugs-of-war take place as people give up their own and/or try to take someone else's power.
It is an unfortunate situation that results in a lot of 'soul loss' in shamanic terms, and is also referred to as 'soul stealing.' The really unfortunate thing about this is, even if you could take someone else's power, you couldn't use it or do anything with it. We are each infinitely powerful beings with our own unique frequency, so anyone else's energy or power put on top of that just weighs you down more and blocks the expression of your own power. This can result in what have come to be known as 'energy vampires' (those people from whom you feel drained after spending any time with them) as this snowballs in the constant (conscious or unconscious) belief in the inadequacy of one's self and power, and the need for energy from others.
The fortunate thing is that no one can take your power without your permission. No one. And one of the ways to reclaim your power is by cutting the unhealthy cords between you and someone else. Now this may be a total ending of a relationship, or it could be just good maintenance in a healthy relationship -- cleaning up and discarding any unhealthy cords to make a healthy relationship healthier.
Now the name of this process pretty much describes what is done. Like I said earlier, there are many versions, rituals, and practices to do this, it being pretty much a universal occurrence, but like the name suggests, it can also be a little... well, violent. Most methods utilize seeing the cords in your mind and cutting them with a blade of one's choosing. I do understand how this can be very empowering for someone who has been in an abusive relationship, sometimes for their entire life, but there also are so many instances I've heard of where people cut cords with someone, and within 24 hours that other person contacts the cord cutter because it is a palpable shift of energy. Now just speaking for myself, if I feel I need to cut cords with someone, the last thing I probably want is to hear from that person right afterwards. It seems a little counterproductive to have such a back lash, and in my view the backlash is the result of the process being done from fear, or from focusing on getting away from the other person rather than going toward your own future. Like the saying says, "Energy flows where consciousness goes." Focusing on where you've been, on getting away from that person, will just draw that energy back into your life, whether it's this same individual or someone else embodying that same kind of energy. Nothing less than love, and a win-win situation will truly heal the situation, and after all, healing is the goal, right?
So, with that long-winded introduction to cord cutting, I thought I'd share the process as a very good friend shared it with me. This is tried and true by myself and a number of others I've shared it with, and it moves toward wholeness and the healing of both parties without loose ends. Besides people, this process can be done with other challenges such as specific fears, or addictions. It may also be repeated as necessary. So, here is my adaption of what my friend taught me:
Picture yourself sitting on the sandy floor of a cave. As you look around you notice the very walls of the cave are filled with and pulsing with light. The cave entirely encompasses you like a bubble, holding you safe in its golden glow. There is a small, cozy fire burning just in front of you, in the center of the cave, and there is an empty space on the other side of the flames. Now, if you are comfortable with it, picture the other person sitting there on the sandy floor with the fire between you. If this is too uncomfortable, place a symbol or object there to represent the person, perhaps a doll or teddy bear. Remember you are totally safe. Ask to see the unhealthy cords that exist between you and this person, then take a moment to notice where they connect with you on your own body. One by one, take each cord, unplug it from your body, and plug it into the wall of the cave. Once all the cords are removed from your body and plugged into the cave wall, you may feel free to say anything appropriate to this other person, such as "Good-bye," or "Thank you for your lessons," or "I release you to your own path," or whatever. It is also alright to say nothing at all. Take a moment or two to bask in the glow of the cave, as well as your newly reclaimed freedom, knowing you are no longer responsible for providing the other person with energy because the light and love of the cave will provide them with everything they need. You are free. When you feel complete with this process, and recharged and empowered in yourself, you may return to ordinary reality. Open your eyes upon the new path of freedom that lies ahead of you filled with excitement and hope.
I now release you to your own regularly-scheduled path, already in progress. :)
In shamanism, as well as a number of other spiritual practices, there is something known as "Cord Cutting." In a nutshell, we have cords of connection with everyone we are in relationship with, whether it's as family, lovers, friends, acquaintances, but usually the closer the relationship the more cords there are connecting us.
These cords are basically where on-going energy exchanges take place, so ideally these are exchanges of love and light which empower and feed us, but of course not all of them are like that. In some situations, extreme examples being co-dependency or abusive relationships, these connections can be where energetic tugs-of-war take place as people give up their own and/or try to take someone else's power.
It is an unfortunate situation that results in a lot of 'soul loss' in shamanic terms, and is also referred to as 'soul stealing.' The really unfortunate thing about this is, even if you could take someone else's power, you couldn't use it or do anything with it. We are each infinitely powerful beings with our own unique frequency, so anyone else's energy or power put on top of that just weighs you down more and blocks the expression of your own power. This can result in what have come to be known as 'energy vampires' (those people from whom you feel drained after spending any time with them) as this snowballs in the constant (conscious or unconscious) belief in the inadequacy of one's self and power, and the need for energy from others.
The fortunate thing is that no one can take your power without your permission. No one. And one of the ways to reclaim your power is by cutting the unhealthy cords between you and someone else. Now this may be a total ending of a relationship, or it could be just good maintenance in a healthy relationship -- cleaning up and discarding any unhealthy cords to make a healthy relationship healthier.
Now the name of this process pretty much describes what is done. Like I said earlier, there are many versions, rituals, and practices to do this, it being pretty much a universal occurrence, but like the name suggests, it can also be a little... well, violent. Most methods utilize seeing the cords in your mind and cutting them with a blade of one's choosing. I do understand how this can be very empowering for someone who has been in an abusive relationship, sometimes for their entire life, but there also are so many instances I've heard of where people cut cords with someone, and within 24 hours that other person contacts the cord cutter because it is a palpable shift of energy. Now just speaking for myself, if I feel I need to cut cords with someone, the last thing I probably want is to hear from that person right afterwards. It seems a little counterproductive to have such a back lash, and in my view the backlash is the result of the process being done from fear, or from focusing on getting away from the other person rather than going toward your own future. Like the saying says, "Energy flows where consciousness goes." Focusing on where you've been, on getting away from that person, will just draw that energy back into your life, whether it's this same individual or someone else embodying that same kind of energy. Nothing less than love, and a win-win situation will truly heal the situation, and after all, healing is the goal, right?
So, with that long-winded introduction to cord cutting, I thought I'd share the process as a very good friend shared it with me. This is tried and true by myself and a number of others I've shared it with, and it moves toward wholeness and the healing of both parties without loose ends. Besides people, this process can be done with other challenges such as specific fears, or addictions. It may also be repeated as necessary. So, here is my adaption of what my friend taught me:
Picture yourself sitting on the sandy floor of a cave. As you look around you notice the very walls of the cave are filled with and pulsing with light. The cave entirely encompasses you like a bubble, holding you safe in its golden glow. There is a small, cozy fire burning just in front of you, in the center of the cave, and there is an empty space on the other side of the flames. Now, if you are comfortable with it, picture the other person sitting there on the sandy floor with the fire between you. If this is too uncomfortable, place a symbol or object there to represent the person, perhaps a doll or teddy bear. Remember you are totally safe. Ask to see the unhealthy cords that exist between you and this person, then take a moment to notice where they connect with you on your own body. One by one, take each cord, unplug it from your body, and plug it into the wall of the cave. Once all the cords are removed from your body and plugged into the cave wall, you may feel free to say anything appropriate to this other person, such as "Good-bye," or "Thank you for your lessons," or "I release you to your own path," or whatever. It is also alright to say nothing at all. Take a moment or two to bask in the glow of the cave, as well as your newly reclaimed freedom, knowing you are no longer responsible for providing the other person with energy because the light and love of the cave will provide them with everything they need. You are free. When you feel complete with this process, and recharged and empowered in yourself, you may return to ordinary reality. Open your eyes upon the new path of freedom that lies ahead of you filled with excitement and hope.
I now release you to your own regularly-scheduled path, already in progress. :)
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Eureka!
I'm finally starting to learn that when I'm off-kilter, I'm not alone and that there are bigger forces and patterns going on. This past week, for instance, has been pretty turbulent, but at the same time that I'm riding from the crest to the trough to the crest of the waves again, I'm noticing a lot of topsy-turviness in the lives of friends around me. Two different friends ended relationships on the same day, and another friend found out she has to move because the government is buying her land for a levee. Crazy life-changing stuff.
Still, whatever is going on, I need to deal with my own manifestations of this energy of change, and I have to admit to not dealing with it very gracefully. Deep, dark things have been coming up --things left over from childhood that I thought I'd dealt with. Self-criticism and judgement have fueled heavy feelings of worthlessness and sapped any sense of confidence. Today I found myself exhausted and totally stressed out, trying to figure out what the heck was going on. Finally, on my lunch break, I went out to my car intending to nap, but as I dozed in and out I decided to contact the soul part of my four year old self, who had recently returned in a soul retrieval, to see how he was faring through all of this.
I found my four year old at a table drawing and coloring (If I remember correctly, this was my Kindergarten classroom). I sat in a miniature chair next to his low table and started asking him how he was doing. "I'm fine!" He said, too engrossed in his artwork to look up, at least until he finished his drawing of some sort of vehicle that I couldn't make out, and held the paper up horizontally with both hands, excitedly repeating, "Brum!Brum!Brum!" as he turned it back and forth like it was flying.
He returned to his crayons as I asked if he knew what was going on. He looked up at me then with this "I'm sorry, I thought you knew" kind of look on his face. I don't recall his exact words, but he explained how these things are coming up because of his return into my life. All the junk that had collected and had basically taken up the space left by his absence, was now being flushed to the surface by his reappearance -- like Archimedes' bath water -- to be cleared away.
I thought about this as he went back to drawing. It made sense. It wasn't easy and, at times, was even kind of scary, but it did make sense. And while I pondered this further I felt a tug on my sleeve. Young Patrick had turned away from his table and, still holding my shirt sleeve in his little hand and looking into my eyes with a total expression of earnestness, he told me, "Don't be scared. I will protect you."
Still, whatever is going on, I need to deal with my own manifestations of this energy of change, and I have to admit to not dealing with it very gracefully. Deep, dark things have been coming up --things left over from childhood that I thought I'd dealt with. Self-criticism and judgement have fueled heavy feelings of worthlessness and sapped any sense of confidence. Today I found myself exhausted and totally stressed out, trying to figure out what the heck was going on. Finally, on my lunch break, I went out to my car intending to nap, but as I dozed in and out I decided to contact the soul part of my four year old self, who had recently returned in a soul retrieval, to see how he was faring through all of this.
I found my four year old at a table drawing and coloring (If I remember correctly, this was my Kindergarten classroom). I sat in a miniature chair next to his low table and started asking him how he was doing. "I'm fine!" He said, too engrossed in his artwork to look up, at least until he finished his drawing of some sort of vehicle that I couldn't make out, and held the paper up horizontally with both hands, excitedly repeating, "Brum!Brum!Brum!" as he turned it back and forth like it was flying.
He returned to his crayons as I asked if he knew what was going on. He looked up at me then with this "I'm sorry, I thought you knew" kind of look on his face. I don't recall his exact words, but he explained how these things are coming up because of his return into my life. All the junk that had collected and had basically taken up the space left by his absence, was now being flushed to the surface by his reappearance -- like Archimedes' bath water -- to be cleared away.
I thought about this as he went back to drawing. It made sense. It wasn't easy and, at times, was even kind of scary, but it did make sense. And while I pondered this further I felt a tug on my sleeve. Young Patrick had turned away from his table and, still holding my shirt sleeve in his little hand and looking into my eyes with a total expression of earnestness, he told me, "Don't be scared. I will protect you."
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Dis Members Only
Whenever I hear someone say, "I want to be a Shaman!" I just have to shake my head, and whether I say it out loud or not, I think, "No, I don't think you do." I don't think a lot of people have the complete picture of what shamanism encompasses.
First of all, it truly is not something you can choose. It chooses you. I think about growing up Catholic, and particularly in my family where we were very close friends to many of the parish priests and nuns. I learned at an early age what a vocation was, listening to these holy people talk about their individual callings to the sacred life, and their feelings of "coming home" when they answered that call. Indeed, I felt a resonance with them, having heard a spiritual calling from an early age. My mom tells me the priest who baptized me did so fully convinced I was destined for the priesthood. As a boy I had the entire Mass memorized and I would mouth the words along with the priest. Even in college, at a Benedictine Monastery, I very seriously considered entering the brotherhood and becoming a monk. Eventually my path took me beyond the parameters of the Church and further down my 'Golden Thread Road' to a more shamanic context of spiritual clergy, but the spiritual calling was always there. To deny it is to deny myself. It's who I am, not what I do.
But besides all of that, and despite the romanticized image and the rewards of living the Way of the Shaman -- And I am the first to sing the praises of the shamanic life with all its beauty, and depth, and meaning, and healing -- it is not for the faint of heart. I've heard it said that shamanism is a continuous chain of deaths, but you don't usually read about that in the owner's manual. In fact, in many cultures, to become a shaman you have to literally be brought to the brink of death, via an accident or disease or whatever, and through spiritual means return to the land of the living. This is why shamans are often called "The Wounded Healers." And in most culures, or so I've heard, when one realizes they are being called to be a shaman the reaction tends to be more of an, "Oh crap!" rather than a "Woo-hoo!"
It has been quite the challenging winter, as winters seem to tend to be for me, but with Imbolc (February 2nd, and the first day of spring on the Wheel of the Year) in sight I believed I had weathered it, and, in any case, it was coming to an end with brighter days ahead -- literally. This sigh of relief was short-lived, however. On the day of Imbolc itself there was a seemingly minor incident at my day-job, but it set off a chain reaction in me that was colossal, rending the illusions of my life and bringing into sharp focus what was real, and how I could no longer pretend to give validity to what wasn't. It was a very snake-like vision, watching parts of my life shred around me and slough off like a snake's skin as I grew beyond them and they could no longer contain me. It was a freeing yet scary experience, and I can hardly put into words the clarity of reaching for this light -- my light -- my essence -- for it is the only reality. Yet it was quite disorienting, for my material/physical life no longer seemed to fit, and though I had this guiding light, what I could expect in my day-to-day life was in total darkness. I had no idea what it might look like and what changes would occur. In an act of surrender I needed to let go of everything I knew. Everything! It reminds me of a saying from A Course In Miracles, "Nothing real can be threatened, nothing un-real exists." The only thing that was real at that point was me, my essence, the Truth of my Being. Everything else was transitional, a dream, shadows on the wall.
That night at the Imbolc ritual of my adopted coven, I barely held back the tears as we stood around Brigit's cauldron, ablaze with flames of blue, and in my turn prayed my intentions for the year to surrender to my path, the path of my heart -- which is the heart of the Goddess.
From that point the shadows only deepened. I was attempting to go off zoloft for a more natural alternative, and though it was a more controlled fall than the last time I tried, it was still a slow descent into the underworld. Both my mental and emotional realms (air and water) became unstable and unreliable. I lost touch with my passions and motivation for doing things (fire) and I began questioning whether I could even take care of myself and hold down my job (earth). So here were all four elements spinning around me tumultuously, and it was very difficult not to get caught up in the storm. But the 5th element, Spirit in the center, the eye of the storm, was still, as always, a safe port. How many times in the past has Artemis talked to me about being the Eye of the Storm?
With the help of returning to my original medication and an awesome soul retrieval, I began a slow crawl out of the depths and, though a bit disappointed at the prospect of going back on a pharmaceutical, I heard the wisdom in a friend's comment that, "were this diabetes and insulin we were talking about, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
During this time I also reached out and left a phone message with a dear, shamanic practitioner friend, and received a beautiful email in response which included the following wisdom:
I know the discouragement your voice portrayed. I too have spent many times trying to get off of zoloft to no avail. It has been a really hard road and difficult to think that after all of this amazing work I do I still can't shake deep dark depression. You are amazing, patrick. Your light is huge and your laugh is medicine for the world. I don't know what all this means that we sensitive types also need medication to live in this world, but I do know it is damn important we are here.
This encouragement uplifted and carried me considerably!
Finally, in the past couple weeks especially, I have returned from the underworld, Persephone emerging into the light, and the word that most seems to fit me now is "reborn." Then it struck me. This has all been one, long, slow-motion, dismemberment!
Dismemberment is something that happens in shamanism, but I hadn't really considered it outside of a shamanic journey. In a dismemberment journey one of your guides basically takes you completely apart, down to the atoms, in order to put you back together better and stronger than you were before (insert 70s flashback to The Six-Million Dollar Man and "We can rebuild him. We have the technology."). It can seem kind of gruesome and shocking if you don't know what is going on, but it is painless and when you surrender to it, it is so healing. I've had Nathaniel, my reindeer, rip me apart with his antlers (and in one odd journey I watched the inside of his mouth light up just before he blasted me Godzilla-style, instantly dematerializing me) and the amazing thing is realizing that even without a body, I was still there. Once you're put back together, it's like the feeling after a good dental cleaning. Everything that isn't actually part of you has been cleared away from between every atom and you are fresh, new, and feeling stronger than before.
And that is exactly where I am now. I feel stronger, more confident, and happier than I did before this 'real life' dismemberment journey began, and am excitedly looking forward to the near future and stepping into my power as I officially open my shamanic practice.
Shamanism may be "a continous chain of deaths" but then it is also a continuous chain of rebirths. It is both, in an ever turning cycle, while in the center of it all sits the unwavering Spirit, the eye of the storm, and our true, indestructible identity. It is a whole, and must be considered in it's entirety when embarking on the shamanic life. To live shamanically you must be willing to die repeatedly to everything you thought you knew, thought you were, up to that point. You must be willing to be dis-membered in order to re-member who you truly are.
"Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible in us be found."
~Pema Chodron
First of all, it truly is not something you can choose. It chooses you. I think about growing up Catholic, and particularly in my family where we were very close friends to many of the parish priests and nuns. I learned at an early age what a vocation was, listening to these holy people talk about their individual callings to the sacred life, and their feelings of "coming home" when they answered that call. Indeed, I felt a resonance with them, having heard a spiritual calling from an early age. My mom tells me the priest who baptized me did so fully convinced I was destined for the priesthood. As a boy I had the entire Mass memorized and I would mouth the words along with the priest. Even in college, at a Benedictine Monastery, I very seriously considered entering the brotherhood and becoming a monk. Eventually my path took me beyond the parameters of the Church and further down my 'Golden Thread Road' to a more shamanic context of spiritual clergy, but the spiritual calling was always there. To deny it is to deny myself. It's who I am, not what I do.
But besides all of that, and despite the romanticized image and the rewards of living the Way of the Shaman -- And I am the first to sing the praises of the shamanic life with all its beauty, and depth, and meaning, and healing -- it is not for the faint of heart. I've heard it said that shamanism is a continuous chain of deaths, but you don't usually read about that in the owner's manual. In fact, in many cultures, to become a shaman you have to literally be brought to the brink of death, via an accident or disease or whatever, and through spiritual means return to the land of the living. This is why shamans are often called "The Wounded Healers." And in most culures, or so I've heard, when one realizes they are being called to be a shaman the reaction tends to be more of an, "Oh crap!" rather than a "Woo-hoo!"
It has been quite the challenging winter, as winters seem to tend to be for me, but with Imbolc (February 2nd, and the first day of spring on the Wheel of the Year) in sight I believed I had weathered it, and, in any case, it was coming to an end with brighter days ahead -- literally. This sigh of relief was short-lived, however. On the day of Imbolc itself there was a seemingly minor incident at my day-job, but it set off a chain reaction in me that was colossal, rending the illusions of my life and bringing into sharp focus what was real, and how I could no longer pretend to give validity to what wasn't. It was a very snake-like vision, watching parts of my life shred around me and slough off like a snake's skin as I grew beyond them and they could no longer contain me. It was a freeing yet scary experience, and I can hardly put into words the clarity of reaching for this light -- my light -- my essence -- for it is the only reality. Yet it was quite disorienting, for my material/physical life no longer seemed to fit, and though I had this guiding light, what I could expect in my day-to-day life was in total darkness. I had no idea what it might look like and what changes would occur. In an act of surrender I needed to let go of everything I knew. Everything! It reminds me of a saying from A Course In Miracles, "Nothing real can be threatened, nothing un-real exists." The only thing that was real at that point was me, my essence, the Truth of my Being. Everything else was transitional, a dream, shadows on the wall.
That night at the Imbolc ritual of my adopted coven, I barely held back the tears as we stood around Brigit's cauldron, ablaze with flames of blue, and in my turn prayed my intentions for the year to surrender to my path, the path of my heart -- which is the heart of the Goddess.
From that point the shadows only deepened. I was attempting to go off zoloft for a more natural alternative, and though it was a more controlled fall than the last time I tried, it was still a slow descent into the underworld. Both my mental and emotional realms (air and water) became unstable and unreliable. I lost touch with my passions and motivation for doing things (fire) and I began questioning whether I could even take care of myself and hold down my job (earth). So here were all four elements spinning around me tumultuously, and it was very difficult not to get caught up in the storm. But the 5th element, Spirit in the center, the eye of the storm, was still, as always, a safe port. How many times in the past has Artemis talked to me about being the Eye of the Storm?
With the help of returning to my original medication and an awesome soul retrieval, I began a slow crawl out of the depths and, though a bit disappointed at the prospect of going back on a pharmaceutical, I heard the wisdom in a friend's comment that, "were this diabetes and insulin we were talking about, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
During this time I also reached out and left a phone message with a dear, shamanic practitioner friend, and received a beautiful email in response which included the following wisdom:
I know the discouragement your voice portrayed. I too have spent many times trying to get off of zoloft to no avail. It has been a really hard road and difficult to think that after all of this amazing work I do I still can't shake deep dark depression. You are amazing, patrick. Your light is huge and your laugh is medicine for the world. I don't know what all this means that we sensitive types also need medication to live in this world, but I do know it is damn important we are here.
This encouragement uplifted and carried me considerably!
Finally, in the past couple weeks especially, I have returned from the underworld, Persephone emerging into the light, and the word that most seems to fit me now is "reborn." Then it struck me. This has all been one, long, slow-motion, dismemberment!
Dismemberment is something that happens in shamanism, but I hadn't really considered it outside of a shamanic journey. In a dismemberment journey one of your guides basically takes you completely apart, down to the atoms, in order to put you back together better and stronger than you were before (insert 70s flashback to The Six-Million Dollar Man and "We can rebuild him. We have the technology."). It can seem kind of gruesome and shocking if you don't know what is going on, but it is painless and when you surrender to it, it is so healing. I've had Nathaniel, my reindeer, rip me apart with his antlers (and in one odd journey I watched the inside of his mouth light up just before he blasted me Godzilla-style, instantly dematerializing me) and the amazing thing is realizing that even without a body, I was still there. Once you're put back together, it's like the feeling after a good dental cleaning. Everything that isn't actually part of you has been cleared away from between every atom and you are fresh, new, and feeling stronger than before.
And that is exactly where I am now. I feel stronger, more confident, and happier than I did before this 'real life' dismemberment journey began, and am excitedly looking forward to the near future and stepping into my power as I officially open my shamanic practice.
Shamanism may be "a continous chain of deaths" but then it is also a continuous chain of rebirths. It is both, in an ever turning cycle, while in the center of it all sits the unwavering Spirit, the eye of the storm, and our true, indestructible identity. It is a whole, and must be considered in it's entirety when embarking on the shamanic life. To live shamanically you must be willing to die repeatedly to everything you thought you knew, thought you were, up to that point. You must be willing to be dis-membered in order to re-member who you truly are.
"Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible in us be found."
~Pema Chodron
Lex Luthor's Grand Revelation
I'm a cartoonist. So it should come as no surprise that I enjoy superhero movies and cartoons. Well, the other night I watched a movie called All Star Superman, based on a comic by the same name, and it brought home why I've always identified with Superman more than with Batman. I mean the darkness does have its allure, and I even remember a childhood dream where I was Batman, but I just am not a creature of the darkness -- of the night. And it's interesting that Batman's totem is the symbol for shamanic death -- which is a transitional state. I have been through the dark, but I don't live there.
On the other hand this movie brought to light, literally, what things look like from Superman's perspective. In fact, it was the undoing of Lex Luthor, Superman's Arch nemesis. The main point that I love about the story is that Lex concocts a serum that will give him Superman's power for 24 hours. As he is poised and on the brink of taking over the world, he stops. Suddenly he can see the world the way Superman sees it all the time -- the entire electromagnetic spectrum, atoms, clouds of possibilities and the fact that every thing -- every one -- is connected. Suddenly there is no point to taking over the world. How can you be anything but benevolent when you can see -- physically see -- that we are all one? What is left to take over?
I love when spirituality/quantum-physics shows up in our modern mythology of movies, television, books, and comics. In a way superheroes are some of the gods of our age, whose stories thrill us, and teach us, just as stories around the campfire have done for countless eons. They give us a glimpse into our humanness as well as give us not just the inspiration to move beyond our perceived limits, but the blue-print on how to do it.
So, speaking from my comic-book-geek-fan-boy, I understand now being more drawn to Superman, whose world view is based on unity and wholeness, than Batman, whose world view is based on separation.
And then there's Wonder Woman. She is something else all together. But I will reserve that, as well as Batman and Shamanic Death, for another time. :)
On the other hand this movie brought to light, literally, what things look like from Superman's perspective. In fact, it was the undoing of Lex Luthor, Superman's Arch nemesis. The main point that I love about the story is that Lex concocts a serum that will give him Superman's power for 24 hours. As he is poised and on the brink of taking over the world, he stops. Suddenly he can see the world the way Superman sees it all the time -- the entire electromagnetic spectrum, atoms, clouds of possibilities and the fact that every thing -- every one -- is connected. Suddenly there is no point to taking over the world. How can you be anything but benevolent when you can see -- physically see -- that we are all one? What is left to take over?
I love when spirituality/quantum-physics shows up in our modern mythology of movies, television, books, and comics. In a way superheroes are some of the gods of our age, whose stories thrill us, and teach us, just as stories around the campfire have done for countless eons. They give us a glimpse into our humanness as well as give us not just the inspiration to move beyond our perceived limits, but the blue-print on how to do it.
So, speaking from my comic-book-geek-fan-boy, I understand now being more drawn to Superman, whose world view is based on unity and wholeness, than Batman, whose world view is based on separation.
And then there's Wonder Woman. She is something else all together. But I will reserve that, as well as Batman and Shamanic Death, for another time. :)
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