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 Shamanic Perspective on Belonging

When our soul wants to enter into this world, it requires a means of doing so. To do this, it works with our ancestors to create a vehicle to carry it into and through this life. We call this the physical body. The soul then uses this body and all its senses to act as a lens through which it enters the world. But as soon as it passes through the lens into the world, it becomes caught up in the senses, the information, the overwhelming complexity of sound, color, texture, scent and emotion. What joy! This part of the soul that has arrived in the world is then shaped by the experience of being here, and it gradually forgets that it is only a small part of a greater whole. It begins to believe that it is a separate and unique individual. We generally refer to this delusion of the soul as "ego."

Somewhere along the way, our human community lost touch with the sense of the greater soul and where we came from began acknowledging only the part of the self that was lodged in the physical vehicle. This began to break down the structure of communities that were based on a recognition of the deeper connections residing in the greater part of the self – what we are calling the soul. As we drifted further away from our roots beyond this limited existence, we forgot that the ego is only a delusion of the soul, and that its "death" is nothing more than the soul emerging from a deeply engrossing exploration of this world, through the physical body and its senses. This delusion had developed its own beliefs and valued its existence above all else. It saw that death was a great Mystery and insisted that it not be forced to look into it until there was no other choice.

Since it no longer felt the connection with its own greater self, the ego began to feel a great and insatiable hunger. This was/is of course the hunger to remember the connection with soul, but since to do so would break the illusion of sovereignty, the ego instead finds other ways to feed this hunger. Among other ways, it seeks to "belong." It creates further depth of illusion by assuming that this great hunger arises from an unmet need to feel that it has a place of its own. Difficult, considering its very ground of being is that which it rejects in order to be. (Sartré would love that one.)

From the view of the shaman, there is no NOT-belonging. The essence of existence is being. The rest is all commentary. To heal the wound that hungers to belong, our egos need to be able to recognize that they are part of something much larger, which extends beyond the world of physical senses. There are many paths to do this, and none are easy. Because we have been so long away from the realization of the soul, it takes a lot of personal work and usually some intense crisis to break through the delusion. And even then the ego continues to struggle. Such is life in this world. A great joy and/or great suffering.

Teetering into Balance

Even when we strive toward the horizon, our goal is to be present right where we are standing now.

In some ways, it might be easier to retreat to a monastery or ashram and have less in the way of our search for the infinite now. But that is not really balance. Or it is achieving balance in a very limited spectrum of human experience. It seems to me that the path of the shaman is one of reaching for balance within an ever growing portion of the human spectrum – and then stretching the limits of that as well. Rather than a retreat from the everyday world, it is an engagement and celebration of the whole. It includes everything from changing diapers and washing dishes to regular exercise and sitting meditation. It challenges the mind to open to the soul and stirs the soul to awaken within the mind.

With no goal in sight, beyond the journey itself, the challenge is to remain in the moment – to feel what draws you/me away from this sacred/mundane point in time and space – to turn and face the hunger and the fear – to own it and embrace it, while holding to the balance of the whole. Like juggling on a tightrope, its not so much the one thing or the other, but how they react to one another within and around you that make it so . . . interesting.

This is the challenge I find in pretty much every day now. When I am about to go into Temple for my 30 minutes of sitting meditation and I hear my daughter in the monitor start to wake up from her nap, and I know that she will be heart-meltingly adorable . . . for about ten minutes. Do I postpone my sitting, and possibly miss sitting at all that day, or do I pass up a chance to spend some quality time watching my daughter – time that can never be recaptured? Talk about shenpa! And so I recognize that this is another moment in which I am torn into balance. It seems I can release the thing that is important to my self in this lifetime or I can postpone the thing that is important to my infinite Self – and then I realize: There is no difference. It is not the release of one or the other, but the embrace of BOTH that stirs and awakens the deeper Self. This is the practice. Unhidden. Unveiled. Constantly revealing itself in plain sight. Mindful choice. Stepping outside of karma. Entering heaven with a smile.

The Great Flying Ointment PlayShop

Several months ago, I got the idea (from somewhere) of teaching some of my shamanic students how to make Flying Ointment for use in shamanic journeying. This is an herbal salve that helps in journeying by gently dissociating the awareness with the physical body. It turns out that there were quite a few folks interested in learning how to do this, so I put together a "playshop" on Sunday afternoon.

We began by going over the fundamentals of preparing an ointment: What to use as a base, how to determine the necessary quantity and balance of the active ingredients, how to preserve the mixture, and what dosage to use. Then we went up to our Temple room and journeyed to the Underworld, where we hung out with the plant spirits that we would be working with and I spoke with Grandfather about how much of each plant to use.

Each participant got to choose and pick one leaf from the datura plant. When we went back downstairs to the kitchen, while the lard was softening in the double boiler, we placed our intentions into those leaves and then added them, one at a time, to the liquid mixture on the stove.

The seeds of the plant were crushed in a mortar that I had last used for grinding woad, so we left the residue of the woad in which made a lovely blue color (and led to several smurf jokes).

The damiana was added as well and everyone took turns stirring their intention into the mass as it slowly cooked. When it was done, the whole mass was poured through cheese cloth and the liquid carefully squeezed out. This was then replaced in the double boiler and a small amount of beeswax added to add a bit of stiffness to the texture of the ointment, and a few drops of tincture of benzoin to preserve it.

Finally the preparation was carefully poured into the waiting jars and left to cool. This took significantly longer than expected, which may have had something to do with the weather, so we stuck them in the freezer until they firmed up.

Everyone seemed to have a good time and came away with a little jar of flying ointment, so I may even be talked into doing something like this again sometime.

Press Release and Issues with FaceBook and Balance oh MY. . . .

Why can't Facebook let me post pdf files on the Wall? I'm sure there's a very good technical explaination. Probably the same reason I can't post pdf's to my blog here. So instead I'm stuck with posting a jpeg of the pdf, which is small and blurry – see below:

After months of having Dance of Stones over-looked by regular book reviews (while receiving excellent reviews from people who have actually read it), because they don't take small press (much less self-published) publications seriously, I've stumbled across the Midwest Book Review. This one is actually focused on small press and self published works. So - in the past few days, I've put together a press release and am working on a cover letter, then I'll send off my two copies to the editor and see what happens.

SO - when I've not been massaging my brain to come up with a clear, concise and effective cover letter, I've been sitting longer to prepare for the Running and Meditation Retreat that my lovely and generous friends are sending me on over labor day. (I've also been working at getting myself ready for the running part of the program, with less success.) Of course, as soon as I sit down and go into Stillness, my brain begins to offer lots of creative notions that I need to let go of in order to remain in Stillness.

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.

Unlocking the Hidden Teachings

I've been thinking of how I can do more to promote the teachings of Post-Tribal Shamanism to the people who are craving the message that they really can and do connect with the Earth, Spirit, their ancestors and the divine. It's sometimes a little overwhelming, when I look at all the sites on the internet – all the different voices proclaiming a Shamanic Renaissance.

One of the places I've been thinking about presenting is the MidWest Crystal Conference. This presents a bit of a quandary, since I don't use crystals and stones in the same way that "new agers" do. At the same time, I've been thinking about how the Tibetans talk about terma – ancient teachings that have been intentionally hidden, locked away in stones, and space and places of power, to be discovered by realized masters at an appropriate time. It seems to me that a lot of these teachings are being discovered in the current age, and not only in Tibet. There are so many ancient teachings that are re-emerging into active practice in our modern age. I'm confident that it is not only in the mountains of Tibet that such treasures were hidden away for future generations to reveal. I suspect that the teachings of Sheya, that I believed I was "just making up" were actually hidden terma revealed by my explorations.

Apparently, these hidden treasures can be found almost anywhere. Could it be that there is an abundance of realized masters in this age, or is it that the wrathful guardian demons who protect these teachings are feeling the need of our world and allowing the teachings to be set loose for our healing? In this time of both great danger and great wealth – huge awakening and great ignorance - what better time is there than now?