Exploring Shamanism

Chapter 2
Embracing the Shadow, Illuminating the Divine: The Shaman’s Initiation Ordeal

At birth, we come into this world in perfect spiritual unity with the universe around us. In those first moments of existence, we are still aware of ourselves as part of a greater whole, with no boundaries between this and that, self and other. Starting with a biological and identity connection to mother and extending outward, the infant sees everything that exists as an extension of his or her being.

These precious moments do not last long. As early as two to six months, a dim awareness of the rest of the world as separate, as “other,” begins to emerge. By fifteen months of age, infants learn to perceive themselves as separate from mother, from other people and things. Every moment after the first breath is taken is devoted to rooting ourselves in the physical. This transition is an essential part of our survival in the material realm. We learn to attend to each of our bodily needs as they occur in the instant, not least of which is the desire for love which, to the infant who must rely on the acceptance of “other” to fulfill its needs, is synonymous with survival and self-preservation. Thus begins our gradual transformation from a unified consciousness to the development of the ego as the center of conscious awareness.

As he or she grows, the child’s self concept grows with him or her, changing and developing to come into alignment with the dictates of tribe, family, and society. Even as adults, this sense of ourselves as separate and distinct individuals is essential to our survival in the physical world. It is because of our ego, our “I” awareness, that we can get ourselves dressed in the morning, cross the street safely, fly to the moon. Unfortunately, having been given too much control over the psyche, the ego mind (some call this the “left brain”) quickly becomes the spoiled child of the psyche, bound and determined to keep us focused on the part of the self that defines who we are as individuals, thereby separating us from the rest of creation. Unlike the newborn’s view of all things being connected and interdependent, the ego mind sees the rest of the world as being in opposition to the self. By this I do not mean in conflict exactly, but rather, sees the rest of creation as a point of comparison to the "I." As in, "You are tall; I am short.” "This is inanimate, while I breathe and move." The ego mind believes in absolutes. It cringes at ambiguity, at paradox, at non-duality, and at the illogical—in short, anything else that threatens its tight grip on the psyche.

Like the string which holds a balloon tied to its tether, the function of the ego self is to root us in the physical plane—all of which is in opposition to the shaman’s ultimate goal as mediator between the physical and spiritual planes. The fundamental philosophical principle of shamanism is the belief that all things are connected; that, the most basic level, there is no difference between me and you, the computer on which I type, and the half-eaten apple that sits, growing brown on the corner of my desk. It is this unity consciousness that gives the shaman his power, for, as we have seen in the previous chapter and will continue to discuss from here on out, once the boundaries of separation have been lowered, one’s potential for movement across the universe—and for action within the physical plane—becomes limitless.

In order to engage in this reconciliation between Heaven and Earth, the shaman must learn to step outside of the rational, ego-rooted mind and to transfer consciousness into a state of divine union. This is an excruciatingly difficult process, for the ego mind, in its terror of being annihilated, will hang on tooth and nail for control. To become a shaman therefore involves a radical transformation of consciousness—a kind of temporary exorcism of the ego—which will allow the shaman to drop the “I” state and make the switch from the conscious to the unconscious, from the logical to the intuitive, from the ego mind to the spirit mind into which he or she will be traveling. This is not to say that the ego must be destroyed entirely, for as we have seen, the ego is a vital part of our experience on the physical plane. The ego mind is, however, a tyrant and does not like to share power. In order for the shaman to be successful on his or her path, he or she must learn to release the tight grip of the ego during the duration of the shaman’s magical flights.

In order for this transformation to occur, the potential shaman must undergo the ancient rite of initiation in which the neophyte shaman is violently and traumatically propelled, either willingly or unwillingly, past the boundaries of the self into a state a divine union with cosmos and creation.

The five stages of mergence

Every shamanic culture around the world has its own specific types of initiation practices and methods. An exploration of just one of them would take an entire book. However, as with the descriptions of the three worlds, the underlying rhythm of the initiation process remains remarkably consistent from tradition to tradition. Instead of detailing the specific rituals as they are practiced in each individual culture, I will focus on the recurring themes that pop up in relation to initiation practices across the world, and how they provide a means of spiritual transformation to the shamanic candidate.

It is, of course, impossible to compartmentalize this experience into neat little boxes. These stages of initiation often overlap and interchange, repeat themselves in some cases and jump ahead in others. In general, however, the initiate’s movement of consciousness towards this state of union can be sorted into five distinct stages: 1) Calling/Awakening, 2) Purification/Purgation, 3) Revelation, 4) Worldly Return, and 5) Spiritual Renewal. Each of these stages represents levels of psycho-spiritual growth that the shaman must pass through in order to alter the rhythm of his or her consciousness. Like the skin of an onion, each represents a layer, a veil of consciousness that must be peeled away pieces by piece, in order to reach the place of purity, understanding, and, finally, mergence with Spirit. Within this process the candidate oscillates between light and darkness, beauty and exultation, the ecstasy of complete mergence and the anguish of utter abandonment. It is a dangerous task—both physically and mentally—and one without any guarantee of accomplishment. If successful, the candidate will experience a death of his or her self as it is interpreted solely by the ego mind, followed by a rebirth into oneness with the unified mind of the cosmos. If not, he or she may be lost to the process—forever stuck in one of these stages, often manifesting itself as a mental, emotional, or physical illness. Because of the importance of total transformation, in many traditions, the elders of the community do not consider the candidate a true shaman until he has successfully navigated his way through each of these stages at least once. The powerful shaman knows that he or she will cycle through these stages again and again, constantly undergoing a process of growth to achieve a new level of understanding and power.

This transformation is an arduous psychological and spiritual process, filled with both physical and psychological trials and suffering geared towards shattering, then redesigning, the neophyte’s sense of self. The initiatory journey is an experience of self-exploration for the shaman as well as an exploration of the universe at large. For, as we are coming to understand, to know the inner workings of oneself is to know the outer workings of the cosmos.

The Calling/Awakening

The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. This first step of the shaman’s initiatory journey is the "Calling” or “Awakening” phase and is marked by the initiate’s first experience crossing over into the spiritual realm. This is the moment of revelation for the neophyte, his or her first glimpse into non-ordinary reality and the powers and possibilities that reside there. As in the initial stage of Joseph Campbell’s hero’s journey, this is the hero’s call to arms, the moment in which latent talents and abilities are awakened and a new purpose for the self—in this case, one involving a life of service to his or her community—is proposed.

In general, there are two ways in which the potential shaman can be “called.” Most dramatically, the Awakening comes about as a kind of recruitment by the spirits who make their wishes known by thrusting the initiate into a new perceptual state, out of ego mind and into infinite oneness. Others come to the path of their own volition, or are guided to the path by elders who see inherent abilities within the individual, and seek out this ego-less state through a variety of means.

Recruitment by the spirits

Recruitment by the spirits can be a terrifying ordeal for the one chosen to undertake the calling. This manner of awakening is most often brought about by a sudden physical and or mental illness which radically transforms the candidate’s consciousness into a state of sudden and unintentional mergence with the spirit world. There is a good reason for this. While a healthy person is likely to filter divine messages to alter it to his personality, the dying and insane have radically altered psyches which may be able to better accept the information and experience in its purity. Because of this, the initiate, whether the entrance onto the path of shamanism is intentional or experienced as a “spiritual abduction,” must lose his or her mind both literally and figuratively, in order to readjust his mental reception to the frequency of the spirit world.

As was the case with Black Elk in his initiatory journey, one way in which the spirits transport the shaman into non-ordinary reality is by way of a physical sickness. Initiation stories from around the world are filled with account of “shamanic illnesses,” in which the potential shaman falls into a state close to death, or even into death itself, and, during this breakdown of consciousness, is transported to the invisible realms. In this way, the physical sickness of the shaman becomes a teaching in itself, for the shaman must cross over to the place beyond death where he or she will one day have to follow his or her clients. The Sakha people of Siberia believe the shaman can cure only those diseases whose spirits have tasted the shaman during initiation.1 In this way the shaman follows the journey of the “wounded healer”—learning to heal himself before he can heal another.

Oscar Miro-Quesada is a shaman of the Peruvian curandero tradition. As a child, he suffered from recurring bouts of severe asthma. At age ten, he experienced an attack so acute that he felt himself leaving the physical plane. In this altered state of consciousness, “Three very wizen old beings called me back and told me a lot of things about where I came from and where I was heading to,” he recalls. “After that I was healed and never had asthma again.” Years later as a teenager, with the experience long forgotten in favor of the more mundane concerns of adolescence, Miro-Quesada traveled to the northern coast of Peru to find don Celso Rojas, a curandero who was reported to be the best San Pedro2 maker in the world. During a San Pedro ceremony with don Celso, the same three old men rose out of don Celso’s altar and reminded him of everything they had told him regarding his future—the marriage he was going to have, the schools that he would go to, the children he would have. Based on that awakening experience, he began an apprenticeship with don Celso that continued for many years.

In other cases of spiritual recruitment, the future shaman may remain physically healthy, but begin to exhibit behavior that in ordinary reality seems nonsensical and “out of touch.” The person may begin to act in a strange manner, babbling gibberish, having hallucinations, hearing voices, or even simply showing signs of being listless, depressed, or otherwise “removed” from and unable to function in daily life. What we in modern culture would consider a mental illness is, in some cases, actually a vocational crisis—an indication that the spirits are calling a man or woman to follow the path of the shaman. Mircea Eliade observed that "among many tales of shamanic initiation, he or she who was destined to become a prophet-priest suddenly disappears, carried off by the spirits (often into the sky) returning some days or weeks later, often into a state of madness.3

As with those having undergone initiation via a physical illness, the inner experience of the individual undergoing this kind of calling is quite different from what it looks like to those around him. While from the vantagepoint of consensual reality the individual has not physically “gone” anywhere, the visionary experience of the candidate is one of being kidnapped by the spirits and brought to a place outside of ordinary reality. These experiences can involve travels to the Upper or Lower Worlds as well as a “dismembering” and subsequent reassembling of the shaman’s body so that it will be new and fresh and strong and ready to receive and hold powerful teachings within it. In this state, the neophyte undergoes a violent dismemberment followed by a rebuilding and a transmission of power and subsequent initiation with spirit guides and teachers.

There are remarkable similarities the world over to describe this process of mental abduction of the initiate by the spirits. In the Celtic tradition, those who exhibit certain kinds of abnormal behavior are often referred to as being "taken by the fairies."4 In the Tibetan Bon shamanic tradition, future shamans are said to be abducted by the ban jhankri, a yeti-like creature that captures young candidates and brings them back to its cave in order to initiate them into shamanism. Those who are chako, or pure of heart and body, remain with the ban jhankri for teaching and transferal of power. Those that are not are ravaged and tossed out. 5 Islamic and pre-Islamic lore refers to the “inspired madmen” known as the Kahins or Oracle-mongers. These were men who had their wits taken away by djinns—elemental spirits—and who lived in the valleys and deserts of Arabia, uttering prophesies to those willing to listen.6 In central Africa, legends exist about a "half man" who challenges those who encounter him to fight. If defeated, the half man trades the knowledge of healing in exchange for his life and the lucky victor becomes a proficient medicine person. If not, the loser faces an unpleasant death.7

Although we in the western world may not have a culturally accepted tradition that explains these experiences in such a mystical light, it is likely, if not certain, that this kind of calling occurs here as well. Unfortunately in modern culture, such states carry with them not socio-spiritual significance, but shame and isolation. Those who experience this kind of calling in the west tend to do so without the aid of elders to put the crisis in perspective and guide the individual through the process. Without this aid, the potential shaman may risk becoming stuck in a disjointed visionary state, in which the visions control the initiate rather than the other way around.

“As a clinician myself, I have found that about seventy percent of all socio-psychotic experiences are spiritual emergencies,” Miro-Quesada says. “The other thirty percent are psychopathological illnesses. But in the rest of these cases, if you help the client or the patient interpret his or her experiences as a spiritual awakening rather than a sickness, they find purpose and meaning in the experience rather than condemnation by societal norms. … If they had a community of like-hearted souls to offer nurturance for their shamanic initiation to run its course, seventy percent of Western psychopathology could be shapeshifted into a spiritual awakening.”

Refusing the call

These sudden encounters with non-ordinary reality are intentionally shattering to the candidate's view of reality. Through these experiences, the initiate’s mind is expanded to encompass all realities that exist—not just those within the reach of the five physical senses. During the Calling phase of the initiation—and, indeed, each time he makes a trip into the other worlds—the shaman must face death. This death is both symbolic and actual, and is one that will rip the shaman’s ideas of self and reality into shreds over and over again throughout the course of the initiation and of his life.

Knowing the psychological sacrifices he or she will have to make, many refuse the call to become a shaman for many years until it becomes clear that, in these matters, spirit gives very little choice. Those who refuse this call are often called again—and again and again and again, each time in ways that are more traumatizing and harder and harder for the candidate to ignore.

Some are dragged kicking and screaming onto the path. In his book, Native Healer, Medicine Grizzlybear Lake recounts his own call to service, which came in the form of several near death experiences throughout his early life. Despite the obvious calling, the life of the shaman was not one that he entered willingly.

"I didn't want to be a native healer—I was chosen for it. Four different times in my life I went to elderly medicine people in the Indian way and asked them to take it out of me. I gave them a lot of money, gifts, and even offered hard labor to have the power taken away. I didn't want the responsibility, hardship, sacrifice, and strict life that went with it. Two of these Elders refused. One tried to do what I asked and died exactly a year later. The fourth one, Rolling Thunder, really scolded me. He said: 'This is not your choosing. You don't have the right or authority to interfere with what the Great Spirit has decided. Your chosen to be a medicine man long before you came into this body on this Earth. You have a duty and the responsibility to follow the calling. If not, you will hurt your family, your people, and the spiritual function and design of the Universe.’”8

The “inner-directed” shaman

Despite the hardships and suffering, there are still those who not only go willingly into the path of shaman, but also seek it out on their own. These are often individuals who feel compelled to enter into the practice of shamanism by an internal bidding. In these cases, the candidate is prompted to seek out and attain this ego-less and boundary-less state by an inner “knowing” that they have not yet grasped the fullest extent of the universe and a deep desire to connect with it no matter what the dangers or costs. Some of these people posses a natural tendency to enter such states and go there with ease; others require more discipline and perseverance and training from elder shamans who are willing to teach them.

Sometimes, the individual’s desire for this knowledge is enough to turn the attention of the spirits. In 1970, the day after his high school graduation, Brant Secunda left his parent’s house in Brooklyn, New York and made his way down to Ixtlan, Mexico, on a quest to find don Juan, the shaman made famous by the books of Carlos Castaneda. Once in Ixtlan, he learned of a village a five-day walk away. There, he was told, he could meet and study with a shaman. On the third day of his walk into the mountains, Secunda wandered down a deer trail and became lost and disoriented, eventually passing out from dehydration and sun exposure.

“The next thing I knew, I was having these visions of circles of light surrounding me,” Secunda says. “Inside the circles were all kinds of birds and animals-tigers, pumas, like that. In the very middle was a deer. I was dying, and all the animal powers were there to help me feel my connection to creation.”

Not long after he was awakened by a group of Indians standing over him. As it turned out, the Indians were Huichols, part of a small tribe said to be the last people in North America to have maintained their pre-Columbian ways. Eventually, Secunda became an apprentice to don Jose Matsuwa, one of the tribe’s most respected shamans.

In cases in which there has been no previous spiritual recruitment, the initiate may jump ahead to the purification stage, hoping to intentionally seek out this ego-less state through self-induced physical and mental hardship. This takes great faith and persistence by those who do not have it forced upon them by spiritual recruitment, for the ego mind desires to hold on to its comfortable, rational view of the world and does not go quietly. Here, the potential shaman “cries for a vision” or otherwise forces himself into a unitive state by intentional stimuli such as ingesting hallucinogenic plants or drugs, long periods of fasting, ceremony, and other trance-inducing stimuli. In these cases, the shaman-in-training will seek out a teacher in the physical realm with whom he or she will train. This is a fairly typical method of introduction for seekers in the western world, although it occurs in more traditional settings as well. In the Tibetan Bon tradition, if it has not already happened spontaneously, the disciple goes through an initiation with a guru in which he or she calls upon a spirit to possess him or her. Once that occurs, a ritual is held in which the possessing spirit is honored and asked by the guru to become the disciple’s tutelary deity. These shamans are often not as respected as those who gain power spontaneously from the spirit world are, however. In the Bon tradition it is said that during the Golden Age, all shamans were aph se aph or rang shin (spontaneously called). Nowadays, during this Kaliyuga or Dark Age, it is said that the connection to heaven is veiled, and, as a result, most shamans have to learn from each other. Many Nepalese shamans believe that the scarcity of aph se aph shamans indicates that shamans are becoming less powerful.9

Others disagree. When asked how far someone taught in this way can go with this work, Oscar Miro-Quesada responded, “As far as they want to go. Really, the furthest we’ll ever have to travel is from our heads to our hearts. If people start down this path using just their head, it can take a lifetime. Two lifetimes. Three lifetimes. Four lifetimes. But if people wake up to this path with their heart, they don’t need to study with any teacher. … Ultimately, prayer is just as powerful. If there is heart in a person’s calling and path, it makes no difference. They are already there.”

Purgation/Purification

The Calling stage of the initiation process is the neophyte shaman’s first experience crossing over the threshold of the physical into the world of spirit. As we have seen, this baptism is often unintentional on the part of the individual, and thereby out of his or her control. If he or she is going to be of any future use to his or her community in the role of shaman, however, it is essential that the initiate learn to journey into these worlds consciously and purposefully. The rest of the initiation therefore involves learning how to re-enter the same state of being that he or she was thrust into during the Calling phase, but now learn to do it deliberately and with clear, pre-meditated intent.

Much like in the Calling phase, the Purgation/Purification stage further disintegrates the shaman’s sense of self. This is the place of tests and challenges where the shaman must intentionally let go of anything that keeps him bound to the physical world, preventing him or her from flying freely into the spirit realm. This phase of the training often requires a number of physical and psychological tests and trials that take a toll on the initiate’s mind and body. These include fasting, long periods of isolation, and/or physically demanding pilgrimages to places of power. Food, water, rest—those things that are fundamental to his body's existence and egoistic attachments are put to the side for a period of time. This self-deprivation is essential for a number of reasons. First of all, it acts as a sign of good faith to the spirits that the initiate is serious and willing to suffer and make some sacrifice in exchange for knowledge. (One is reminded of the Norse myth of Odin hanging upside down from the Tree of Knowledge in self-sacrifice in order to gain wisdom over the Runes.) Secondly, abstaining from those carnal needs such as food, sex, and other distractions cleanses the initiate’s mind, body, and spirit, creating a clear channel for the forces of Spirit to act through; usurping control of the physical and placing the reins in the hands of the transcendental. In some traditions it is believed that the more pain and suffering the initiate takes upon him or herself during the initiation, the greater his or her powers will be as a shaman.

The Purgation/Purification phase often involves a physical separation from the community—a period in which the initiate leaves the comforts and security of home and goes off into the wilderness alone. With this gesture of intent, the initiate both literally and symbolically returns to the womb of the earth in order to be reborn into a new form. During this process, the initiate retreats from the noise and chattering of the external world to an internal one where he or she must face both the torments of the wilderness as well as those of his or her own soul. It is here in this place of silence that the shaman turns his attention inward and begins the process of self-discovery.

Just as this phase cleanses and purifies the body, the shaman must acknowledge and reconcile the part of himself that Jung called the “shadow” self—those fears and limitations that remain hidden from the outside world and, often, from the individual most of all. Left alone to the silence and deprived of the comforts of home, all the initiate’s heroic myths about him or herself fall apart like a house of cards as the repressed forces of the unconscious arise to confront him or her. More often than not, the individual discovers hidden parts of the psyche that he or she might wish to remain hidden. In the realm of the shadow, the strong are confronted with their weaknesses, the brave with their timidity, the loving and merciful with their equal propensity towards hatred and brutality. As painful as it is, this process of self-discovery is of utmost importance to the shaman-in-training, as it brings to light the individual’s dual ability to both harm and heal, as well as his or her potential to desire for power over knowledge. Without acknowledging the darker impulses that motivate him, the shaman cannot separate himself from them, and in turn cannot act as a pure channel for the forces of the universe to work through. Left unaware and out of control, it can cause great damage both to the shaman and to others.

As with the ego, this does not mean that the shaman has to, can, or even should eliminate his shadow entirely. That is impossible. It is also undesirable. The shadow side is one half of the self, and is therefore part of what shapes the shaman’s power. Light without shadow is a formless mass, unable to contain anything. In a still life painting, the shape and characteristics of an object are not only determined by the light, but also by the shadow that defines its outer boundaries. In this same way, this shadow side defines the individual. Instead of denying that darkness, the shaman must become conscious of its power and, through ritual and prayer, transform it into liberating energy to be used for healing and service.
A symbolic representation of this idea can be seen in the mesas of the Peruvian north coastal curanderos. The mesa is an altar upon which the medicine person places his or her power objects and ceremonial tools. The placement of each object is purposeful, and the mesa becomes a kind of map of the unseen worlds, depicting the inner and outer cosmos on its surface. This kind of mesa is divided up into three sections. The right side is called the Campo Justiciero, the Field of Justice. This is the path of the mystic and holds sacred objects symbolizing Divine Will. The left, called Campo Ganadero, or Field of Will, is the place of free will and manipulation—of forcing one’s individual desires over what is already present through God, the path of the magician. The place in the middle where these two forces overlap and merge is called Campo Medio, the Middle Field, the path of healing. It is by learning to navigate and use each of the three fields and their corresponding energies that the shaman is able to bring benevolent change to the physical world.

For the shaman, coming to know his shadow side goes well beyond just the psychological implications. In the shamanic way of thinking, this shadow, the “demons” of the psyche, are both psychological and actual. That is, they not only represent internal frames of mind, but also actual entities that exist within the larger framework of the cosmos and that are responsible for causing imbalance both within the individual and within the world at large. In the Tibetan tradition of Bon shamanism, this “shadow” part of the self represents one of several souls residing within each individual. If a person dies from an unnatural death or does not have an appropriate funeral, this soul becomes a lha gra, evil spirit.10 In this way, the shadow is not just a personal hindrance, but, after death, becomes a part of the collective experience for the community as well. In learning about his own weaknesses, the shaman gains control over those malicious entities which feed upon the darkness and which will cause illness and suffering in the shaman’s future patients. The shaman is also better protected from sorcerers11 who wish to do psychological or physical harm.

Finding this balance between the extremes of personal will and surrender to divine will is the challenge of the shaman. Over the course of the initiation, and, indeed, over the course of a lifetime, the shaman will have to struggle with those two parts of himself, the light and the dark, bouncing back and forth between the two in order to find the middle ground of clear vision. Because of this, the shaman, even after his formal training has ended, must continually revisit the well of shadow and light, returning to this stage of initiation in order to keep a check on power. It is only by knowing him or her self entirely that the shaman can distinguish between the pure, limitless heart voice and the one that is filtered and distorted through the disowned parts of the self.

Revelation

The Purification/Purgation phase of the initiation is, for all these reasons, a torturous one for the initiate to endure. And yet, throughout this period of suffering, flashes of illumination and revelation into the cosmic consciousness that the initiate so desperately seeks break through the darkness and keep him or her moving forward towards the light at the end of the very dark tunnel. Through these challenges of both physical and emotional deprivation, the initiate begins to experience a shift in consciousness as the darker and ego-binding elements of his or her character are purged away. Once again, the initiate emerges into a state much like that of the Calling/Awakening phase, walking along the very thin boundary between life and death, self and selflessness. As each layer peels away, and the individual’s consciousness expands further outward to meet it, the initiate revels in a loving and joyous relationship to the Absolute and a new lightness of being. As he or she moves from darkness to lightness, from ego to unity, the initiate finds him or herself in that middle place of the mesa, the thin boundary between the limited self and the infinite. In this place of heightened awareness and consciousness, the shaman-in-training can look at the leaf of a tree and see a reflection of the cosmos. In this illuminated state, the boundaries have blurred to an extent where the shaman can perceive the interconnectedness of every living thing, which exists as a living expression of the Divine.

It is at this time that the initiate typically begins formal training in techniques of ecstasy that allow the shaman to consciously engage with his or her experiences in non-ordinary reality. Besides learning to master trance states, the shaman-in-training must also learn other “tricks of the trade” that connect ordinary reality to non-ordinary reality, such as conducting specific rituals and healing techniques, divining signs and omens in nature, and all other forms of expanding his or her perception within ordinary reality. Often this training process will go on for years, until the elders or spirit guides decide that the time has come for the shaman to re-enter the world to share the knowledge and power that he or she has been given.

Worldly return

“Worldly Return” is the phase of the spiritual journey that distinguishes the shaman from many of the other spiritual traditions throughout the world. While the goal of certain mystical traditions may be to remain permanently in this unitive state, to, as the mystics suggest, “dissolve like a salt doll into the sea of God,” the shaman returns from his mysterious adventure ready to share his newly bestowed gifts of knowledge with his community. In some cultures, the new shaman will perform a symbolic gesture to show his community what he has learned, such as climbing a tree or some other indication that he is now able to climb the center pillar and travel between the three worlds. From that moment on, the shaman becomes the spiritual liaison of his community, acting in numerous roles as priest, healer, counselor, and ceremonial leader. Having gone through death and returned, the shaman can comfortably and safely go back and forth between these realms, escort souls to or from the other worlds, and bring back information for the good of his or her community.

Spiritual renewal

This cycle of initiatory death and rebirth, pleasure and pain, never really ends for the shaman. Once the calling is accepted, he or she takes on a lifetime of initiations, even after the formal apprenticeship has ended. She or he must continually undergo this process of transformation in order to grow and face each new challenge that is presented to him or her as a healer.
For a period of time after the Worldly Return there is often a sense of spiritual self-satisfaction on behalf of the shaman. Inevitably, however, at some point during his or her practice, the shaman will come to a place where the transformation of consciousness gained during the initial calling and training is no longer enough. The shaman will invariably be faced with the understanding that instead of the complete transcendence that was hoped for, he or she has only replaced the old set of pre-conceived with a new—albeit wider—set of blinders. This revelation—and the despair and frustration that invariably follows it—is what is called by mystical traditions a “dark night of the soul.” The rug pulled out from under him or her once again, the shaman finds him or herself back in the role of initiate, floating once again in the abyss of the purification stage. If the shaman is committed to moving even further down the path towards divine union, the initiation cycle will begin again—and again, and again, and again—continually enlarging the boundaries of spiritual consciousness, and allowing for the shaman’s greater depth of movement towards total mergence with Spirit.

In the words of Joseph Campbell,"We have only to follow the thread of the hero path, and where we had thought to find an abomination, we shall find a god. And where we had thought to slay another, we shall slay ourselves. Where we had thought to travel outward, we will come to the center of our own existence. And where we had thought to be alone, we will be with all the world."12

Exercises

Exercise #6: Recognizing your own initiatory ordeal.

Life is constantly initiating us if only we are paying attention. This is true for all of us, whether we are actively on a spiritual path or not. Birth, death, divorce, puberty, marriage, illness—these things are as much forms of initiation into a new stage of life as any spiritual calling. But are you using your ordeal for greater growth, or merely trying to get through it? Unfortunately, those of us in modern society are often not trained to recognize our own life trials as achievements and teachings. Perhaps if we had the mindset or context to respect these ordeals as such, we could look at such difficulties as opportunities for growth and power instead of deepening evidence of the unfairness of life. The following exercise is geared towards reframing your attitude to the events—both the joyful and the difficult—that have marked your life.

Prepare your space and yourself. Breathe. In your notebook, write down the most significant moments in your life, starting with your earliest memory. Write down all your recollections of each event. What people, living or in memory, guided you through each process? Who or what helped and guided you through that time? What obstacles did you encounter? What did you learn about yourself and about life? Was there a moment when you became courageous in you own eyes or lost courage? What strengths did you discover in yourself? What weaknesses? How has that event shaped the person that you are today? What powers have you acquired that can be used to reach a goal or a dream that you have? Always give thanks for these experiences, as they are your greatest teachers.

Design a ritual for yourself to honor these moments as significant initiatory experiences. I suggest that you pick one experience at first, the one you feel has been most influential to your growth, and focus the ritual on that. For ideas on how to structure a ritual, refer to Chapter 5. Create an altar to honor and give thanks to those guides that have assisted you in your path and ask for their continued support. If you feel comfortable, invite others to join your ritual and act as witnesses.

Exercise #7: Beginning the process of self-discovery

As we have seen throughout this chapter, one of the main functions of the shaman’s spiritual crisis and subsequent initiatory practices is the unveiling of the self. This includes uncovering the dark and light aspects of the self, which must be understood and embraced as part of the shaman’s basis of power. This process can be difficult, and one may find him or herself wrestling with trying to discover what authentic parts of the self exist underneath the social conditioning of right and wrong, acceptable and unacceptable. The following exercise is to help you uncover who you authentically are beneath all that training. What are your strengths and weaknesses? Your fears and doubts? What are you most proud of? This is an opportunity to go deep into yourself.

I am a big fan of psychotherapy as a tool for self-exploration, because it allows the opportunity to have an objective person—the psychotherapist—reflect your own patterns that you may not be consciously aware of. Outside of that, the best exercise I have found for getting in touch with one’s inner self is free flow writing (and I suppose one could modify this exercise to include “free flow dance” or “free flow painting”). In this exercise I want to encourage that you find a close friend with whom you can share things that came up for you during this exercise to act as a support system.

First, prepare yourself and your space. Sit down with your journal and a pen that is easy to write with. Begin to write whatever comes to your mind. You can present yourself with a topic if you like, such as “What or who am I most afraid of?” “What are my gifts?” “What or who most angers me/fills me with strength?” “Who do I give my power away to?” Or, simply write whatever is foremost in your mind at the time. See what is circling just under the surface of your conscious awareness, waiting to be uncovered. Keep your pen moving. Don’t stop to think or to edit. Don’t be afraid of tangents or non-sequitors. If you draw a blank, just write gibberish over and over until something comes spilling out of you. When it gets hard, that is the time to keep going. Continue as long as you can, but at least fifteen minutes. When you are done, ground yourself immediately and walk away. We will come back to this work in a later exercise.

Continuing this exercise on a regular basis can help you to uncover more and more things about yourself, and help you recognize your own inner truth. While we may find out things about ourselves that make us uncomfortable or even upset, know that these parts of yourself are, when recognized and used constructively, the greatest assets to our own power. Jungian analyst Robert A. Johnson maintains that the greatest “gold” in ourselves—that which is most brilliant, powerful, and needed in the world—as coming from this shadow place within ourselves. It may be hard to imagine, but that area of ourselves and our lives that we have the hardest time with, is often our greatest strength and power masquerading under layers of fear. As fear is the antithesis of love, and love the gateway to a deep connection to the cosmos, once this fear has been exorcised out of the shadows, our greatest strength and power can flow freely.