Surviving The West in Non-Ordinary Reality
For the last 8 months, my cohort at the Shaman's Way have spent one full Sunday a month in San Francisco's wooded Presidio, walking the Inka Medicine Wheel. We are now at the mid-point of our walk although 'walk' may be too generous and dignified a term. For the first four months, we tiptoed around The South, meeting Sachamama, the Serpent Goddess, and going to the place of stripping old skins and identities. The latter four months we've been trudging through The West, meeting Lady Jaguar and facing the darkness of both ordinary and non-ordinary reality and the faulty workings of our own selves. While The South was about letting go of fixed notions, The West has trained us to walk without fear in a world that can be egregiously unsafe.
Before you dismiss this description as new-age gobbledygook, please know that shamanism is the oldest "religion" known to humankind. Many are loathe to pin it as such, preferring the term "technology," for shamanism can be as secular as you want it to be. Basically, anyone with shamanic capabilities was able to perform a number of roles for the tribe or clan, be it working with spirits to divine the location of food sources or that of invading tribes.
The Incas, obviously, lived in the Southern Hemisphere so North and South have been inverted (spiritually) when we think of their everyday significance. The West however has always been the way of darkness for all of humanity, the direction where the sun dissolves below the horizon and the last to brighten from morning's arrival.
Dad died a month after we embarked on the The South and I felt the whole world shake and split open. Like Persephone I descended (not by choice) into the underworld, facing mornings when I forced myself to get out of bed and afternoons of trying to stay afloat in casual conversation. The worst insult of losing a parent is how the rest of the world be-bops along. You feel like you're playing catch-up just to stand in place. I was in class the day before he died and in my shamanic journeys I kept seeing this beautiful image of a technicolor peacock together with Jesus and Mother Mary tending to my Dad on a beach. The light was brilliant and there was a sense of eternity and being cared for. I knew that his death was imminent and rushed to get home as soon as I could.
For all my faults (and there are many), the one thing I'm good at is asking for help and the grief group carried me through The West. With the help of crow (my spirit animal for grief and the deep past) I understood that ugliness and unpleasantness is in fact a part of life and that no matter how I spin it: Death does indeed suck. I would much rather have Dad be a constant presence, picturing him in December making a wry comment from his reclining chair while the house would be adorned with tinsel and Christmas ornaments, the smell of my mother's zucchini wafting in from the kitchen.
Synchronicity is life's magic elixir and I've seen so many people transform completely in The West. Some have found their voice or their calling. I've seen one woman who was on the edge of darkness possessed by a spirit of grief and came back smiling and swinging after a colleague had done an extraction. Some had left toxic jobs or relationships or survived through major medical scares. I myself had two demons removed. The first demon extraction was shocking enough but by the second I learned that those who emit a lot of light or have an open spiritual immune system can be a magnet for ne'er-do-wells and other less-than-pure energies. Spending time in bars and not having the best habits can also make you susceptible to attracting confused or unseemly spirits. Also just day-to-day-city-living can put you at risk (kind of like picking up a cold virus on a crowded train).
Demons and darkness aside, we've all survived and are now enjoying a bit of respite in The North (which corresponded perfectly with my recent European trip). As we enter the direction of joy and sweetness in The North, we are asked to enjoy life, celebrate our epic migration, honor our ancestors and shed our roles by living in simplicity. In a nutshell, The North is about fully experiencing pleasure which can sometimes can be the most challenging trial of all. For all its crosses though, The West's deep and frightening obscurity was its own potent medicine. As one spirit made a point of telling me, "Without darkness you wouldn't be able to witness the starlight."
Before you dismiss this description as new-age gobbledygook, please know that shamanism is the oldest "religion" known to humankind. Many are loathe to pin it as such, preferring the term "technology," for shamanism can be as secular as you want it to be. Basically, anyone with shamanic capabilities was able to perform a number of roles for the tribe or clan, be it working with spirits to divine the location of food sources or that of invading tribes.
The Incas, obviously, lived in the Southern Hemisphere so North and South have been inverted (spiritually) when we think of their everyday significance. The West however has always been the way of darkness for all of humanity, the direction where the sun dissolves below the horizon and the last to brighten from morning's arrival.
"Wheel of Fortune" by Edward Burne-Jones at Museum D'Orsay in Paris, France
Dad died a month after we embarked on the The South and I felt the whole world shake and split open. Like Persephone I descended (not by choice) into the underworld, facing mornings when I forced myself to get out of bed and afternoons of trying to stay afloat in casual conversation. The worst insult of losing a parent is how the rest of the world be-bops along. You feel like you're playing catch-up just to stand in place. I was in class the day before he died and in my shamanic journeys I kept seeing this beautiful image of a technicolor peacock together with Jesus and Mother Mary tending to my Dad on a beach. The light was brilliant and there was a sense of eternity and being cared for. I knew that his death was imminent and rushed to get home as soon as I could.
For all my faults (and there are many), the one thing I'm good at is asking for help and the grief group carried me through The West. With the help of crow (my spirit animal for grief and the deep past) I understood that ugliness and unpleasantness is in fact a part of life and that no matter how I spin it: Death does indeed suck. I would much rather have Dad be a constant presence, picturing him in December making a wry comment from his reclining chair while the house would be adorned with tinsel and Christmas ornaments, the smell of my mother's zucchini wafting in from the kitchen.
"Galatea" by Gustave Moreau at Museum D'Orsay in Paris, France
Synchronicity is life's magic elixir and I've seen so many people transform completely in The West. Some have found their voice or their calling. I've seen one woman who was on the edge of darkness possessed by a spirit of grief and came back smiling and swinging after a colleague had done an extraction. Some had left toxic jobs or relationships or survived through major medical scares. I myself had two demons removed. The first demon extraction was shocking enough but by the second I learned that those who emit a lot of light or have an open spiritual immune system can be a magnet for ne'er-do-wells and other less-than-pure energies. Spending time in bars and not having the best habits can also make you susceptible to attracting confused or unseemly spirits. Also just day-to-day-city-living can put you at risk (kind of like picking up a cold virus on a crowded train).
"Girls on the Beach" by Chavannes at Museum D'Orsay in Paris, France
Demons and darkness aside, we've all survived and are now enjoying a bit of respite in The North (which corresponded perfectly with my recent European trip). As we enter the direction of joy and sweetness in The North, we are asked to enjoy life, celebrate our epic migration, honor our ancestors and shed our roles by living in simplicity. In a nutshell, The North is about fully experiencing pleasure which can sometimes can be the most challenging trial of all. For all its crosses though, The West's deep and frightening obscurity was its own potent medicine. As one spirit made a point of telling me, "Without darkness you wouldn't be able to witness the starlight."
awesome
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