Why I Am a Philosopher, Not a Shaman

The world of “Core Shamanism” (which takes its cornerstone beliefs from similarities between all cultures which practice rituals of spirit communication) is a modern construct that I studied for a time and then departed from. I left it behind for many reasons, but generally because I am an impatient student; I prefer to discover for myself rather than being told what is true.

One particular leader in modern shamanic thought turned me off by professing in each podcast that the practices of shamanism (“journeying” to speak to spirits) were our human birthright. Meanwhile, she also maintained that only an elite few who met certain conditions could actually be called shamans, despite the practices being available to all. And of course this individual was one of those elite few. I found this attitude to be almost deliberately misleading, calling upon everyone to financially support her work (framing it as a spiritual duty) because so many people want to be one of those elite few, and she promised to show the way — but she also eviscerated anyone who dared to think they were so special without her approval, or any of her students who wanted to think for themselves.

Another problem with modern shamanic thought is the rampant cultural appropriation. I am not one to take on the beliefs of others anyway (and not because I am so noble, but probably because of my own egoic and pompous faults). So I decided to find my own path which does not reference any specific ritual or teaching from another culture. I worked out my own personal and self-specific cosmology from the ground up, and in doing so I found a new way to approach spirit communication that appeals to my personal logic and perspective.

What I have discovered is that I believe all conscious beings are spirits; that the two words are interchangeable. Spirit with a physical limit (such as us humans, which have bodies and do not transcend space), might as well be described as “spirits wearing hats”. Non-physical manifestations of conscious beings are likewise spirits, but not spatially limited (although, I believe, it is logical to assume they are still limited by time — or else they would not be singular Selves, but all-knowing gods with infinite consciousness).

So all conscious beings are spirits. What then, is the importance and role of spirit communication? It is reasonable to think that a spirit who has transcended physical limitations has gained more knowledge and wisdom than humans (which are spirits whom you could speak to in the most ordinary way!). However, as I said, I am an impatient student and did not wish to wade through hundreds of different conversations with different “wise spirits” to come to some conclusion.

My solution came when I was thinking about the concept of collective consciousness, and how I would define it. I believe that if one could hear the voices of infinite spirits (physical beings and non-physical beings), one could abstract from this the commonalities between all or most perspectives, which would be the most “true” wisdom (as true as anything can be, anyway). For a moment I struggled to comprehend how I could experience the noise of infinite spirit voices. And then I realized I have been doing it in a certain way all along. I prefer to think through abstraction, and when you abstract from an infinite chorus you are not listening to all the noise, but awaiting the sudden swells like the peaks of waves, which come suddenly out of nowhere, as my precious truths.

And so for me, I am not practicing shamanic journeying. I require no ritual tools and no rigorous, monk-like meditation. I simply have faith that I can “tune in” to the consciousnesses of all beings as a whole, like listening to all the radio channels at once — but then, only hearing those loudest spikes of truth. With my faith in the reality of imagination, this is neither difficult nor fantastical. For me, abstracting from the collective consciousness of all spirits is a better source of the image we wish to see of God.

 

Music: A Soul Walk Through Tuva

Take a moment to enjoy a shamanic soul journey.

I created this meditation soundscape with the amazing synthesizer, the MicroKORG, and added in some effects through the sound editor Audacity. I feel it represents a soul journey through Tuva, as I have included my own attempts at Tuvan throat singing (modified electronically) and a Tuvan drum beat as well.

Please enjoy and tell me what you think!

 

Waiting for Spirit

vultures

Often in life we must wait, without forewarning or a timeline, for spirit. When you are walking your own path you might wish that everything would come together at once, and that you would have a full practice right from the start. But this isn’t how it works. We must honour the movement of time, and allow spirituality to develop at the right pace.

I have been waiting for spirit to show me how to pray, and this has been revealed to me at last. I am so happy and nearly addicted to this manner of praying, which feels utterly sacred to me.

I am still waiting for many things, one of which is for spirit  to show me how to use my drum and rattles. I adore my drum. I bought it on a Six Nations reserve and it makes beautiful sounds. I have made several of my own rattles and have a little palm-rattle that I adore as well. I can make but limited use of them in my current living situation, due to noise concerns, so I wait for the day when spirit introduces my drum to me.

What does one do in the meantime? Hold on to the desire, adoration and respect for that which you are waiting for. Research and try new things, playing on the general theme of what you’re waiting for, but be patient. Also,do not worry about identifying spirit’s eventual message. If spirit sends some message or sign to you, spirit will help you recognize it. When spirit showed me how to pray, it was stunningly, immediately clear, like love at first sight.

 

 

Tuvan Shamanic Prayer

Despite being a writer, I find speech difficult. I don’t think in words or pictures, but mostly in silent abstract ideas, which I must clumsily translate into words. Give me time to write, and I will find poetic ways to honour these abstract ideas. But in daily conversation, I am lost, unable to quickly translate what’s on my mind.

I have long loved to whisper in a ‘nonsense’ language, improvising speech and imagining that it means what my heart is saying. This is how the Tuvan shamans pray. Spirit knows the language (spirit knows what your heart is saying), and the sounds help to focus what you are thinking and praying.

It is my new morning ritual to sit outside and whisper improvised non-linguistic prayers to spirit, giving blessings and asking for blessings. It is better than anything else I have tried — the sounds are alive with energy, coming straight from the heart, not stilted by “trying to sound beautiful” — they simply are what they are.

Sound in Tuvan shamanism is very powerful. I have found that some things I enjoy — overtone singing and wearing so many charms and trinkets that you clatter when you move — is part of their tradition. I am still waiting for Spirit to show me how to use my beautiful drum, which I have kept reverently and patiently. I also love making and using rattles. These instruments speak for me, speaking directly to spirit in the most honest way possible.