moving on...

Okay. I am going to let go of deer hunt part II, since it's been sticking in my craw for the past few months without any movement. Instead I offer this train of consciousness clearing of my virtual "throat" to kick out the jams and get the juices flowing.

Ahhhhhhhh! So much happening. So many little discussions, distractions and destinations to explore. I am currently engaged in an on-line workshop in Tibetan Meditation. Yes, I know. I was a bit leery at first as well. On-line workshop in meditation? Really? But it does seem to be working and - like anything else - it's really all about what you put into it. I've been getting up at 6:00 AM in order to sit and practice my QiGong before Meghan (my adorable and demanding almost 1 year old daughter) gets up in the morning – otherwise it just doesn't happen.

Patricia, Meghan and I spent a couple of weeks at the end of March over in Ireland, which is a great place to be at just about any time, just outside Kenmare, County Kerry. We walked an average of 1.5 hours a day and actually did very little that we had planned, instead staying close to "home" and making sure that we had Meghan back at the self catering Holiday House for her afternoon nap and bedtime. This did not leave time for my planned hike around the Ring of Kerry, or any of the other mildly ambitious ideas I had for how we would spend our vacation. Mind you, I am NOT complaining. This was possible one of the most enjoyable and relaxing vacations we have had yet - and that's really saying something.

But I really said all that just to set up for something only vaguely related. Our friend Lisa flew over from Germany to stay with us in Ireland for 5 days and we got a few decent chats in. On one of those chats she managed to stir up some shadows I've not had to deal with for awhile. She was pointing out - in my own mind - that I have the capacity to be extremely successful as a shamanic teacher, writer, etc. She believes that I could teach over in Europe and I know that she's right. So I had to ask myself, why am I not pursuing this?

Okay. There are a few layers of answer here. The most immediate reason is that I am very involved in being a new papa, and that is not a process that I want to be any less engaged in than I am...usually and for the most part. Workshops and conferences in other cities already take me out of town approximately every other month. I think that's probably enough for now. That easily brought the consideration to a halt, at least on a superficial level – but I gradually became aware that it was still ticking away at deeper levels. When I hear about a wildly successful teacher who is offering essentially similar or even lesser material than what I do, I sometimes find myself struggling with my decision to put my "work" on a back burner for awhile.

Initially I saw this as my ego feeling jealous that it wasn't getting its just deserts for all the work it was doing. (My ego/I can sometimes get rather full of myself.) So I passed it off with a compassionate smile, assuming that it would dissolve, as such things tend to do. Instead it stuck around. It took me a couple weeks to realize this. It came to me just recently as I was reading about this recently disrobed zen monk/priest and feeling torn between righteous indignation at his sexual misconduct and compassion for the hungers and shadows that have driven him there. It suddenly occurred to me that I am not being entirely aware of my own process here.

I tend to be rather good, or so I allow myself to believe and pride myself in, at paying attention to what my soul, spirit allies, ancestors and teachers want me to be moving towards. This is probably more true than not, but in this case, I realize that I am actually cowering from what I see as "success." While my reasons are perfectly reasonable, they are also allowing me to avoid something I fear: That if I actually become "too" well known or well paid, my shadows will start chewing on me as well. And so maintain a pretty low profile, make sure I don't do anything that would attract "too much" notice, and tell myself that I am showing integrity by being a good husband and father.

It occurs to me now that, while true – this is also a pile of crap. If I was really ready to face my demons, I would easily find ways to move my work of Post-Tribal Shamanism forward while still having quality time with my family.

Not a comfortable place to find myself it. Just goes to show you, as soon as you start resting on your laurels, they will start poking you.

Changes, Constants and Groundlessness

An old and cherished friend came to visit from California the other day. She has known me since the early 80's, when my focus of personal transformation was on western magick. On this visit she asked me what happen with that. Essentially, how did I go from being focused on magick to shamanism. I had to explain that, at least for me, magick was a practice of getting the whole world to respond to my will. It was focused on evolving the ego into something more divine. Shamanism takes a more humble perspective. It recognizes that there are things that are within my control and others that are not. My favorite analogy is the surfer. He has to know what he can control and what he can't. He can pick which wave he wants to ride. He can position himself on his board. But if he tries to control the wave, he just gets wet.

In thinking about this movement, from thinking that I could control everything around me to realizing that I can only control myself and how I respond to my environment, I see that there is a constant as well. One thing that has not changed is the lure of personal growth, realization and awakening. This draws me forward through all my changes, renewing my sense of awe and keeping me from any final, static "answer."

This is the state I find myself in now, today, here: Groundlessness is. That things will change is inevitable. Even what I perceive as constant will be transformed. Shamanism is, and has been for quite awhile now, a good means of focusing the momentary answers that are working for me on this part of the journey. My own personal path, Sheya, has also changed with this journey. It began as a system of magick and is now more of a dharma path or shamanic practice. And yet, the constants are there as well.

The constant is the essential truth within the whole, which is gradually revealed through time, by the inevitable artistry of change – all on the canvass of groundlessness.

Or at least that's how it seems to me this morning. . . .

A Great Man

As a new father, it's sometimes difficult to keep up with my daily meditation practice - among other things. I'm sure this is not news to anyone who is a parent. (Which reminds me that I am discovering the greatest appreciation and respect for anyone who has ever had children. It is an amazing and overwhelming experience.) Yesterday I had gone running in the early morning with my friend and running buddy, Jeff, and had come home to a busy house where I was needed by my wife and daughter, so Stillness did not happen as I had planned.

The day was not over though. I had been hired to officiate at a funeral out near Seaman, Ohio. Someone was looking for a shaman and found me through my website. At about ten after four, I found myself sitting in my car at the edge of a gravel road leading into the Tranquility Wildlife Area. It struck me that I was about ten minutes early, so I decided to meditate in the car. I was assuming that I would be pulled out of my Stillness at any time by the arrival of the funeral party. It took me awhile to let go of the expectation that they would be showing up at any moment. Finally I settled in and let go of time and place and expectation.

When they did show up, 20 minutes late, I was in a very good place. I followed them down the deeply potholed gravel access road for almost a mile before we pulled off into a small field and parked. The fellow who had hired me was an Army sergeant in dress blues, with his Korean wife and 4 year old daughter. They were joined by some twenty or so family and friends who were there to say goodbye to his father. He recounted briefly the times that his father had brought him out to this very spot to camp. Here he had come to appreciate the power and serenity of nature and to deepen his relationship with his father. The service was short and uncomplicated. I said a few words about the different parts of the soul, about ancestors and about the unceasing love of parents for their children and children for their parents. I asked the physical soul of the departed to enter into some water and then his son poured this water reverently at the roots of a huge oak. We made offerings to the four directions and asked the ancestors to welcome him home. The son scattered his father's ashes, said a few more words and we were finished.

As I watched the tears of those gathered there I was struck by something my wife said recently: that the mark of a great man is that he is surrounded by though who love him. It was clear to me that this was a great man. It was a good ride home.

Cross Pollination

As I watch my daughter (8 weeks old and counting) growing larger, smarter and more engaged with her surroundings, I have been reflecting on the amazing world we live in today. I often liken it to "life in a science fiction novel," because there are technological wonders and social meanderings that would have been considered too strange to be believed even 50 years ago. The upside of this is that we have a tremendous wealth of resources, not only material but intellectual, spiritual and aesthetic, with which to play. Because of the way we can overlap the maps from one system to another, we also have a wonderful opportunity for cross-pollination – applying the wisdom of one discipline to the problems of another. One good example of this is a bit that I encountered in my Tai Chi/QiGong practice that I applied to my sitting meditation practice.

In Tai Chi there are a series of fundamental teachings that apply to all movements and postures. Among these are a few gems that work equally well for sitting postures. The corollary to "stand as if sitting" is "sit as if standing." When sitting on your cushion, extend your legs (in your mind) down into the earth so that it feels like you are standing. The admonition to have your head "rise toward heaven" and your feet "sink below the earth" applies as well. As does the instruction to "expand your body to fill the space around you effortlessly." This is not alway an easy direction to follow. It actually helps to have practiced Tai Chi or QiGong first and have a good foundation, and then apply it to sitting. However, this can still work.

When you take your seat, be sure that your knees are even or lower than the crest of your hip. Now imagine your body like a tree; roots plated deep into the soil, limbs reaching for the sky. Trees have no tension and yet they are very strong. They are "relaxed like a tree." This is how to sit as well. Next, imagine that your whole body is gently expanding from within, like a balloon. Feel the internal force of the expansion holding your body effortlessly erect. Now your energy will flow more easily through your limbs, allowing you to sit for much longer without your legs falling asleep. Try it!

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. 

Vision Quest Aftermath

I just got back early this week from a vision quest that lasted from Friday afternoon to Monday morning and I've been trying to write about it with no success. At first it was the lack of verbal thoughts, which persisted all of Monday and a bit into Tuesday morning. Having spent some time out on the front porch with my pipe and a wee dram, things are a bit more clear now. 

Perhaps the first reason that it is difficult to put down in words is due simply to the state of consciousness that comes on after a day or so of sitting in the woods with no company, no food and little water or sleep. We went out on Friday afternoon and prepared our secluded positions, taking them up that evening in the continuing rain. After the first night, I was probably already more altered than I realized at the time. That's often the way of things. I was chanting and meditating a lot, with the intention of altering my consciousness, so it's hardly surprising. But it wasn't until Sunday that I really noticed the extend to which I was no longer in ordinary state. I found that I was actually staggering a bit when I did my morning QiGong. 

The second reason it's difficult to put into words is that much of what happened seemed to be happening to a part of me that was not directly experiencing it. There was at least one point at which I had the distinct impression that my soul had gone on a journey without "me" and that I would only find out about it later. (I'm still waiting.)

Then there's the fact that what realizations I had were fairly . . . compact. For instance, a glimpse of myself in slow motion explosion from my center/the one center which is everywhere/everything constantly emerging from that one center which is everywhere. . . that sort of thing. And GrandFather mentioning that I should really consult him more before doing something like a vision quest (oops!).

But this quality of vagary predated the vision quest as well. Going into it, I realized that I have never led anyone else into this particular process before. I've been teaching shamanic practices since the early 90's, but none of my apprentices have gotten to this point before. (And I'm quite impressed with these two for having made it!) So there was a lot of consideration that went into just how this was going to work. On the one hand, there are no clear parameters for what constitutes a "vision quest" outside of particular medicine societies. So I had to look at my own experiences (should have asked GrandFather) and come up with something that was workable. Then I began thinking, "this is not a coming of age ritual. These are sovereign adults. They should make their own choices about what elements they will include." And so I began drawing back from the role of "teacher" into more of a facilitator position for their process. 

Okay - that's all I'm up for tonight. More on this tomorrow.

Identity theft?

Something happened the other day that really got to me - and then, the very fact that it had rocked me so much, got to me more. What happened was that I got a bill for a magazine I had not ordered. When I called them to find out what was going on, they told me that I had "ordered it online." Since I knew that I had done no such thing, I asked them to give me the contact information. They had the right name, address and phone, but someone else's email address. I pointed this out to them and asked to be taken off their mailing list. After hanging up, I felt rotten - like I have been invaded somehow. This person had masqueraded as me and gotten away with it. How could that be? The part of me that thinks of itself as unique and special was feeling quite bruised. 

It took awhile for the edge to come off my irritation and for me to begin considering the event from a different perspective. What really happened? Probably someone got ahold of my contact information and used it to fill an online sales quota. That has nothing to do with me. They probably have no idea who "I" am, nor do they care. So why do I take this so personally? 

We hear about identity theft becoming more and more common, but what are we really talking about? Is my identity the sum of all the numbers that make up my address, car registration, birth date, etc? Do those figures in fact define me in any way? Somehow I doubt it. What they DO is locate me in space and time. They say "Kenn is the person who is right here and was born at this time in this place." They are labels of events in the time space continuum, "identifying" me by notations of when and where, but they are not definitions of who I am. 

This leads me to consider: If these are not my identity, what is? On a purely physical level, there are literally millions of tiny organisms that make up my body, and it is only the efficacy of their communal interface that allows me to breathe, eat and move - not to mention think and speak. This is a rather uncomfortable thing to really dwell on, but I cannot think of it as "me." 

On a more esoteric level, I have three souls: The soul of my physical presence that is tied to this world; the soul that will return to my ancestors; and, the soul that will come back for other lifetimes, as it has before. Is the co-mingling of these etheric elements the basis for my identity? 

By now my head is spinning. What is identity anyway? In mundane terms it does refer to those pieces of information that separate you from everyone else for the sake of legal purposes. My name, social security number, driver's license, address, phone number - all of these are saying in some way: "this is me - that is not me." So "I" am the one who makes this statement, yes? When I sit down to meditate, it is "me" who is taking a seat on the zafu; "me" who is seeking the inner Stillness; "me" who is observing the breath; "me" who. . . but wait! If I am the one observing, who is it that is observed? 

So here we are at the real problem: We don't really know who we are. This is perhaps because our "self" is more mystery than fact. But it is this discomfort of realizing that we truly do not know who this thing called "self" is that keeps us grasping at the straws of identity. There is no "self" in terms of numbers or concrete object. There is only a wavefront of consciousness, arising from the vast and incoherent community of organisms, souls, memories, connections, preferences and loyalties that masquerades - for a little while - as someone we call "ourself". 

Now - when I consider the copy of TV Guide I just threw out, I am somewhat more at peace. 

Good Teachers, Ego and

I want to write something about how difficult it has been for me to find a really good teacher in this lifetime; how my own ego got in my way and made it hard to accept anything less than amazing master teachers; and, how I have managed to find a few of those - in spite of myself. But it's hot, humid and my brain cells are moving at a perfectly appropriate speed for this set and setting - just this side of completely stopped. So - I will give it a shot. 

As I've already stated, I have found it almost impossible to locate a "good teacher." Most of this was due to the fact that, my childhood being what it was, I hadn't a very high regard for authority or those who felt they had a right to wield it. That cut out quite a few teachers from the start. Then there are my admittedly high-ish quality standards for both form and content of anything I would be willing to take the trouble to learn. I felt I needed to have a true master from which to learn, so - even when I took a class from someone - I didn't really accept them as my Teacher. That would have been admitting that they knew more than I did. And as insecure as I was, that was the last thing I could have done. My loss.

In spite of all that I managed to run into Elisheva; an amazing woman who was at the time - some 20 plus years ago - everything I always wanted to be when - if - I grew up. Or at least that's how it appeared to me. Because of this, she managed to hold my attention long enough to get some core lessons across to me - all without me even noticing. I'm still not sure how she managed some of it. All I know is that I think I was looking the other direction when it happened. She remains my best friend and mentor to this day. 

About 17 years ago I heard about a weekend of Tai Chi workshops being held over in Northern Kentucky and decided to go down and check it out. I had been teaching Yang style Tai Chi in a haphazard way for some 5 years and thought I pretty well had the whole thing figured out. With a strong grounding in Chinese Medicine and QiGong, I knew more than the average Tai Chi instructor.    . . . Master Ting was NOT your average Tai Chi

instructor. After that first workshop I stopped teaching Tai Chi, because I realized that I knew nothing about Tai Chi. Master TIng was like the blind monk who taught Kwai Chang Kane in that old TV series Kung Fu - except that he wasn't blind and he has never taught me how to use throwing stars. At least not yet. Master Ting is amazing. He truly is a Master - both as a martial artist and a teacher - so of course it took me more than a few years to get around to working with him again. Now - at long last I am taking workshops from him a few times a year. Even bringing him to Cincinnati to teach once a year. (You should really ask me about that if you have any interest in excellent martial arts.) 

Finally, there is Heinz Stark. Back in 2001 I was teaching a series of Shamanic workshops in Cornwall as part of a tour I was leading there. (see my book Dance of Stones: A Shamanic Road Trip) My friend Lisa (Soli in DOS) had just been introduced to Constellation Work in Germany and was overflowing with enthusiasm for this new technique. I asked her to show us how it worked and we wound up spending every evening doing constellations instead of what I had planned. I was blown away by the power and possibilities of the work - as was Patricia who was along on that trip as well.

Lisa gave Patricia and I a present of some Constellation Work with some German facilitators on our next visit to Berlin, and we became even more enthralled. We had to find a way to study it - but couldn't see spending a couple years in Germany (though I was beginning to consider it). Fortunately, another friend and one of my shamanic apprentices at the time found that there was an in-depth training being offered up in Racine, WI. We checked into it and it was clearly too expensive and too time consuming for us to do do - so I went anyway. After the first weeklong seminar, Patricia joined - and we have been facilitating together ever since. But that beginning was not easy. I had to look at Heinz, with all his very human foibles, and accept that he had something very valuable to teach me. That was the first time I knowingly accepted someone as my teacher. And I've never regretted it. 

Now I am hoping to find yet another teacher - and hope to be open to whatever adventure they have in store for me - kicking and screaming all the way. 

namaste

Jai, groundlessness!

Coming out of a funk of groundlessness yesterday, I was struck by the way in which this state of "I have no sense of ground beneath my feet" can contribute to the awakening of my deeper Self. The sages tell us that sitting in the discomfort of groundlessness and simply acknowledging it works wonders, but I've not had much opportunity lately. Things have generally been going so well that it was difficult to summon up a real sensation of discomfort - much less groundlessness. 

To be clear - what I'm talking about it that very real awareness of the impermanence of everything - including yourself. It often comes up during periods of major transition - like death. It reminds us of something our egos usually manage to ignore, with varying degrees of bliss: Namely that we are not the constant and unchanging "thing" that we might like to believe that we are. That everything we see and smell and touch and love will pass away, as will we. 

You can tell when the groundlessness has hit, because of the welling sense of existential nausea that begins to flow from your center, adding a jaundiced tint to everything you encounter. Now remember: This is what you've been hoping for! Keep that in mind. Now go and sit in this discomfort. Watch it. Observe how your ego writhes in agony. See the monkey mind bounce off the walls and scream. All is well.

Once you reach that place of the calm inner smile, begin to feed the discomfort like a fire. Let it burn all the parts of your perceived self away. This makes room for your true Self to emerge. 

Resting in the inner smile, your true Self takes on the cloak of permanence and plays the game of forgetting and becomes the little self. 

No beginning. No end. All is One.

namaste

It's all in Stillness

It's one thing to say that everything your soul needs for its process of awakening is right there in the practice of Stillness/meditation. It's quite another thing to put into coherent terms just what these packed away resources are. I can describe the impact that the unpacking has on a person's life: The deepening of sense of Self; the greater vitality and clarity of connection, but it is such a personal and intimate process that I hesitate to go beyond those generalities. 

What I usually find is that those whose souls are already awakening immediately sense the validity of the claim and either begin practicing diligently or run the other way, depending on how they feel about the prospect of becoming more awake. It's the one's who are further from the goal who seem to have more difficulty in recognizing how something so simple and apparently inactive as meditation can have a significant impact on their lives.

One of the most difficult points to get across to some is that Stillness is not a struggle. The idea is not to repress our thoughts; to shove them down until they give up. Indeed, as soon as you start fighting, you've already lost. The trick is in letting them go. Just like a rock resting on the floor of a river lets the water go.