Writing the flow. . .

Often, when I come out of Stillness from my morning sitting, I am left with a flow of creative energy and think "what a great time to go update my blog!" However, as soon as I sit down in front of the computer, I find that the creative flow has not yet resolved into a word-like substance. And so the updates keep getting put off until I actually drag myself into putting something onto the page. I use this self reflection to preface this entry, because I am still in that flow of creativity - and this is what is emerging. I am going to trust that it will take us all somewhere before I'm done. 

There are many ideas that occur to me during the day - and just as quickly disappear. I'm quite sure that at least some of them are brilliant - and just as sure that most are not. But whatever I may come up with while I'm NOT at liberty to write doesn't matter so much as what comes to me as I sit here now - or anytime I take keyboard in hand and grind something out. Now - just to be clear - I am not complaining. I actually rather enjoy the whole process. . . which leads me to this: While driving across town the other day, I watched a cloud of birds wheeling in the sky and felt a rush of joy rising with them inside me. I thought, "I'm so happy! My life is good. I am blessed with a wonderful partner, right livelihood, a safe and comfortable home. . .." And then I began thinking about how much of my happiness is based outside myself. Some much of it comes from my relationship with my wife, Patricia (aka "the Lovely and Talented") and I started questioning if there was something "wrong" with my happiness because it seems to be so based in externals. 

I took this question home and sat with it; put it on the back burner and let it simmer; and what I've come up with is this: Our happiness in the things around us is based on the choices we make, which in turn is based upon our inner dynamic. When my inner dynamic was clouded and wounded by past karma, I could not make the decisions in my life that led to happiness. Instead, I often chose things (relationships, jobs, experiences) that simply continued the state that I was in already. It took many years of concerted effort at self healing to be able to make healthier choices, less burdened by the experiences of my past. As I was able to make these choices from a more conscious place (due to many years of meditation, etc) I found that I was happier. Was that happiness based simply in the rewards of the choices I made? Or was the happiness the inner root of my outer experience? I suspect the later. 

When I am enjoying a beautiful vista and I feel my heart swell with appreciation, I realize that it is not just the beauty of the view that is involved, but also my capacity to appreciate it. The same is true with anything or anyone who I respond to with appreciation, love, gratitude or joy. When I make offerings to my ancestors in the morning and notice how much more strongly I feel them, it's not because they are any more present than before, but rather that I am now more open to them. 

Has it been mere fortune that allowed Patricia and I to find each other and to be so happy together? I suspect that it is much more than that. It seems to me that, as we grow and develop, we find those things in the world that most clearly reflect our own nature - and in doing so, we reflect the nature of those we find as well.

What I have discovered in this reflection is that the root of our happiness and appreciation of the external is still internal. It is our own inner Self that looks upon the world and sees itself reflected there. As we become more aware of the nature of that reflection, we grow in love and compassion, not only for ourselves, but for all others as well. Truly - to know yourself is the beginning of all wisdom. 

The Happiness of Things

What I had started out to write in my blog entry last time - and never quite got to - was that we were much happier as a people (or so the polls told us) before the advent of the consumer society. Perhaps a movement away from hyper-industrial production, mimicking a war economy, would actually allow us to return to a way of life that was happier and more fulfilling for those of us who are not making the huge profits from this absurd financial experiment gone wrong. 

I've noticed that when someone tends to hold onto things rather than throwing them away, people will say it's because they - or their parents - grew up during the depression. For a long time, I simply accepted this bit of common wisdom without question. Now I'm not so sure. From what I understand of the world before the Great Depression, people had the ingrained habit of conserving rather than consuming and discarding their resources. This was not because of any poverty or miserliness, but rather because they had not been introduced to the throw-away culture that we live in today. This was before built in obsolescence, when things were not only made to last a lifetime, but also to reflect the skills and aesthetics of the maker. 

We live in an older home, built in 1915, and its construction reflects these values. Even the radiator covers, such humble creations, are works of art - and have lasted for nearly 100 years. What products made today have any such expectation? Even the houses we live in that were built more recently have a shorter life expectancy. And as much as I love my Macintosh computer, I know that it is already on the verge of being obsolete after only a little over two years. If I want to keep up with the rapidly developing internet and software, I will need to "upgrade" within another year or so. But do I need to? Do I really need to?

I remember very little of my childhood, but I do have some surreal mental snapshots of being very small and there being a room in the house with some boxes piled on a couch. I suspect I wasn't allowed in the room, nor in the boxes, and so they took on an aura of mystery and treasure far beyond anything they might actually contain. I have a vague memory of creeping into the room - I must have been five or six years old - and opening the box to find a curved bronze dagger in a bronze sheath, something that my Dad had picked up on his travels. There was a magic to that chunk of metal that I've never felt from any mass-produced object of any kind. 

So - what have we lost? And what can we regain? I believe that this most recent economic crisis is nothing less than the long over-due response to an artificial economy, and that it can allow us - at least those who take the opportunity to do so - to return to an economic footing similar to that our parents or grandparents would recognize from their own early years. This would mean making some fundamental changes in how we live our lives. With a basic value on "conserve rather than consume" we could put more of our income into savings. We might take another look at things we spend money on and decide that we really don't need more than one television; a cable service with over 100 channels; a new car every three years; new clothes every season; gadgets that we are going to throw out in less than a year; or anything that we are able to live a happy and fulfilling life without. We might even begin to dismiss the idea that have been drummed into us by advertising over the past several decades: That we must consume in order to be a productive member of society. 

This is not to say that I am some sort of enlightened zen master, no longer attached to material things. On the contrary, I rather like my material things. As I was sitting in our Temple room with Patricia this morning, I was noticing how much I enjoy and am comforted by our "things". To some extent, this is because these objects express and reflect our shared aesthetic, and seeing them gives me an illusion of permanence. It is a way in which we extend ourselves into the world around us and claim our territory. With these objects, we say: "I am here! This is my space - my part of the ever-changing world." 

It seems to me that all of the pieces fit together. The throw-away aesthetic leads to shoddy workmanship and to a greater sense of impermanence. This also leads to people spending beyond their means, because they are told that happiness is to be found in having the latest widget, in the most popular color. And of course, it isn't. If the polls are any indication, happiness was something we found in much greater measure back in the days when we put our money into savings and purchased things that would last as long as we did; when our happiness was based on the health and well being of our loved ones; the closeness and companionship of friends; and, on our own spiritual connection with the wholeness of the world. 

Perhaps this crisis is a blessing in a this disguise. If we have to pare back our spending this year and focus on those things that are both free and priceless, it's not such a bad thing. 

namaste,

Kenn

Roots of the modern shaman

While the word shaman comes from the Tinglit in Siberia, the roots of the practice go much deeper. It's easy for us to look at those living in traditional societies and believe that we are better off without the trappings of tribal community. After all, there's always someone looking over your shoulder. Everyone knows your business. There's no privacy. Why would any self respecting person want to live in such a cloying web of connections and relations? 

The question says it all. A member of a tribe doesn't respect self before clan. While those of us raised in the modern "Western" culture see the rugged individualist as the pinnacle of social evolution, this has been a relatively recent phenomenon - and not all that wide-spread. Most of the world still has much stronger "family values" than we can even conceive of. 

It's common in the US for people to pick up and move to a different state for the sake of their career or education. No one thinks any less of them, and they are encouraged, because this is what individuals are supposed to do. Moving away from your roots, however shallow they may be to begin with, is seen as right and proper. After all, you wouldn't want to be tied down to your family and friends. Those coming from more traditional cultures, even in Europe, may shake their heads in wonder at the apparent lack of feeling and connection we display. 

But what does this have to do with shamanism? I'm glad you asked! In a traditional setting, the shaman works in service to his or her community. So what happens when there is no community? Does the role of the shaman simply evaporate? No. If anything, the need is greater. Part of the work of a shaman is to remind the people where they come from; to help them develop their spiritual roots and to recognize the gifts of their ancestors. These are needed more by our "rugged individualists" than by anyone living in a tribal culture. 

While the shape of society has transformed, the substance of what it is to be human has not. To a certain extent, the function of a shaman reflects the context in which he or she works. If their is a coherent community, it makes sense to work within that structure. However, if that community does not exist, the shaman still has work to do. What that work is will reflect the nature of the society we find ourselves in today. 

There are those who believe that since the definition of shamanism that we "Westerners" developed from observing indigenous healers included "service to community", there can be no shamans without that element. Some even go so far as to claim that the practices of the shaman "belong" to the indigenous cultures in which they were found and that for us to use them is to steal them from the source. I would argue that this is a misunderstanding of the nature of shamanism and of the human condition. Shamanism is rooted in the human experience. The fact that people in our modern culture can be effectively healed by shamanic methods is one proof that they are valid and appropriate. The fact that moderns can also become effective shamans is another. 

This is not to say that all modern "shamans" are relevant, valid or even sane. Nor do I approve of the tendency of some to wear the trappings of other cultures - dressing up as native Americans or other tribal people - and offering their traditional teachings for a fee. 

An effective shaman is not just someone who has taken a few workshops and uses a drum to put their clients into an altered state. While the cultural setting has changed, the shaman is still a person who has passed through initiation and transformation; who has met their demons and survived; who speaks with the spirits and who is able to use that experience to assist in the healing of others.

namaste