The Old Gods, or New?

I was doing a little reading last night about shamanism:

[And just so you know, I will likely never get into the verbiage-ethics of the use of the word shamanism as it applies to the spiritual practice of awareness/traveling to realms not so bound by our physical natures. This unending debate is steeped in opinions about cultural misappropriation, appropriate language, and clear communication. Until we can agree upon a term that relates the general practices, we're stuck with the closest thing we've got. Don't complain about it if you're not going to offer solutions...]

Coming back from that tangent, whilst reading, I realized the spirituality of our ancestors that so many of us want to bring back to life within ourselves was largely centered around hunting, gathering and agriculture. In meditating on this, the gods of the natural world were the gods they spent all their time around. They were hunters who prayed to Cernunnos and animal spirits, they were farmers who prayed to rain. They were communities that prayed to fire. And yet, I cannot find a mythos where even the old gods aren't dead yet... The gods of Greece and Rome had long overthrown the Titans; replacing earth and sea with war, strategy, love and beauty. The Tuatha de Danann were overthrown by invaders, despite their magical prowess and respect for the earth, and were forced underground. The Vanir, gods of the natural world, along with the Giants, warred with the Aesir and lost, giving way to thought and prowess of the mind. They prophesied that there would be the final battle of Ragnorak, where the Aesir would die...

Did our ancestors even love the gods of old? Were the rain and wind too fearsome, the sea too grand, and the mountains too powerful? I'm writing this at work behind a desk, in the midst of my romantic notions of 'getting back to the land,' knowing how unfulfilling my busy life of work, laws and taxes is... Wishing I had more time for the gods, realizing that in surrounding ourselves with our comforts, they truly have been supplanted by the gods of wrath, wisdom, revelry and organization. What need have I for the gods of rain, sun and sea? I'm no fool, and I know how important they still are, but in our time they have taken a last-row seat to make room for other concepts such as justice, legislation, power, influence, money, education and intelligence. We have forgotten that we came from the elements, and created our own, new standard; replacing our origins with some future unknown, untested and unquestioned. Every generation takes steps further into technology and doesn't bother to ask why or what the consequences may be.

Is there a way to reconcile the old gods and the new? I am one person, can I slow the momentum of the new gods of humanity? Can I find my own middle ground? In every culture those gods are always at war... Is it healthy to move backwards? Can we take a break to ask the questions of where our species is headed and why? How relevant are the old gods when today humanity worships it's own idea[l]s?

My soul cries out and I can feel the current imbalance within myself; I struggle to find it even in just my own little spirit. Some feel that humanity should progress, but I am pulled much slower. I have never felt more satisfied than working hard to get the cows fed or the garden tilled and watered. But I was only blessed with moments; perhaps I'd feel different if that was my daily grind? Would it be more enriching? I won't know if I don't do it, but I only have so many years and then what?

The only answer I have is that if I am ever caught up in the war of the gods, be it in this life or long after, I know where my lot will be cast. Perhaps I am not the healer but the warrior? Or perhaps the warrior-politico, convincing Gaia to don her war-helm and fight back against our meager creations? But Gaia hasn't been known to choose sides, she has always sought balance... perhaps she will teach me to as well. Perhaps she will teach us.

Wolf Spirit guide me.
Earth Mother teach me.
Nature Father love me.
Ancestors grant me your wisdom,
As we have forgotten.

Spirits, Stones and 'Pagan' Ethics.

The ritual begins: She sits within a circle of her favorite crystals; amethyst, quartz, tigers eye. She lights her sage bundle and allows it to smolder before bathing in its cleansing smoke, beneath it holding all the while an abalone shell, ceremoniously catching the ash. She prays to the spirits for protection as she casts her circle to begin her magic...

So many books paving the way for so many of us into paganism, new-age mindfulness or mysticism begin the same: Here are the tools, symbols and techniques, make sure to practice, don't be too hard on yourself and reference the list of stones, herbs, animals, symbols and their associations in the back of the book when preparing for your work. Is it just me, or is the redundancy department of redundancy at work again? Not only are all the books seemingly the same (just pick your flavor; celtic, wiccan, druid, re-constructionist, new-age, etc.), their lists of tools, objects and their associations seem to be highly derivative.

Let's hold right here for a moment: I've not read all the books out there, and I've not scoured their information for copyrighted consistencies and nuanced variations. I'm speaking in very broad generalities. I'm not saying crystals are bad and that we should all stop using sage, but are these commonalities hindering our spiritual progress and/or incongruent with [many or our] beliefs of ecological conservation and equitable human rights around the globe?

Although I've not surveyed all the new-age and pagan shops in America to find out where they get their crystals, herbs and ingredients, I think I'm safe in claiming that many of those items are not endemic to our country; in many cases not found on our continent and certainly not found in our backyards or even local green spaces. Much of the amethyst comes from mines in Brazil, labradorite from Madagascar and diamonds from Africa. Sage, both Salvia apiana and Artemisia tridentata are endemic to the American south-west and west of the continental divide respectively. Dragon's Blood, a popular incense-resin for protection and cleansing, comes from Dracaena trees in Africa and Daemonorops from India & China. Were they sustainably harvested? Does our demand for these products create poor working conditions a sub-living wages for people we share the planet with?

I'm not trying to point fingers or even attempt to make a claim that the common tools/ingredients in American pagan culture are bad or good, I just want to ask if we know where they come from... Do we really have a solid understanding of what it took to get that incense burner carved, that sage bundled, or that rock polished and delivered to your door? Are we making the best decisions for the planet, humanity and ourselves? If we continue to use sage exclusively for cleansing, and cleansing exclusively with sage, are we maybe missing something?

My proposal is that we begin to look around ourselves and ask what tools, stones, herbs and ingredients we have available to us. What's endemic to the space I call home? Where I live there are some [geologically relatively] new lava formations; perhaps there are some stones right here whose spirits have something to offer my own growth. Is it possible that working with the spirits of native plants could be more potent and rewarding than with those that grew on the other side of the planet, dug up with who knows what respect or lack thereof, and shipped? Have we asked that question in prayer/meditation? How much more fitting would it be to use tools made by locals (or yourself) specifically for, and with the intention/mutual arrangement of serving your purpose, whatever that may be for that particular tool?

I'm not saying we shouldn't be using them. When I lived in the south-west, I was lucky enough to have white sage everywhere and would pick my own. I almost never bought any. The same for some of the other herbs I'd use. I also lived within a day-trips distance to some great rock-hounding areas where I could pick up jasper, agate and even opal if you knew where to look. I've never been a huge crystal person, but would occasionally find something that just seemed to want to come home and be incorporated into some meditation or ritual. Now I've moved and everything is new: The southwest is arid and the flora/fauna is much different than the woodlands of the northwest, and I'm always discovering new and amazing plants/animals. I still love white sage and not sure what I'll do when my stash runs out. A compelling argument can be made that we are a world-species and that we all have a little of this or that from either/or country and that on some level, our own spirits resonate with the spirits of the plants/animals there. But unless you live in Africa with the Dracaena trees, how much will Dragon's blood really help your spiritual work?

I feel that I'm personally much more enriched when I work with the spirits of where I call home; where we both coexist is where we can best understand and really know each other. That amethyst that was ripped from the ground in Brazil by a villager looking to make a quick $0.01 just doesn't have a whole lot in common with me. And I feel like I'm holding everyone to a higher standard of caring for the planet by not supporting that type of 'plundering.' I also believe that I'm holding myself to a higher standard spiritually by not taking 12 different authors' word that I need sage and quartz crystals for cleansing and protection, and looking around myself to seek and discover the hidden 'mysteries' of the spirits that I spend my life around. The inconspicuous piece of lava rock I find while hiking in the cascades region that burns in my hand and soul when I pick it up is going to be vastly more useful. It really forces me to take the time to stop and smell (and talk to) the proverbial - and sometimes literal - roses. And it opens doors for me to exercise being in the moment, knowing myself and being at peace with my surroundings.

All that being said, I must admit I love plants from around the world; I collect orchids and other beautiful houseplants. I've created spaces where they can come together in a sort of metropolis of life. Most, if not all have been greenhouse-propagated, but they still cary the spirit of their origins in tropical jungles, cloud forests and arid, outback summers. When I grow them well, their reward is transporting me in dreamtime to their inner and outer worlds of jungles and mountains. It has been a rich experience and I am truly blessed to know them.

I wish I'd read the book about discovering local plant, mineral and animal spirits and their benefits for myself when I first began my path into paganism. To their credit, many authors do mention this, but I feel a disproportionate amount of information, especially marketed to new pagans, is regurgitated and stifling in the long run. I will also acknowledge the benefits of beginning somewhere; if that's sage and quartz crystals, I only hope they are eventually led to something profoundly personal and grounding in their own peace. If your flavor of paganism is earth-based, and/or you consider yourself a champion of bio-conservation, I hope these thoughts have already entered your mind and that you have taken steps to balance your practice as well. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter...

Peace be with you,

Lonely Wolf

The Battle Continues...

Hi all, it's been a while. Lots of weird emotions to deal with. For a couple of weeks there I cried at least once a day. I've healed a lot but still have much to go. Only one person wrote me back from my ex-mormon/leaving the family letter (a cousin.)

Got a call from my brother who works in the military and we talked for quite a while. The subject turned to family and confirmed he still talks to our dad, who consequently showed him the letter I'd sent, so I know he got it. Turns out my grandpa died and no one told me. I don't even know when. It's so frustrating. I crave community. How can religion be so important that family is only tertiary?

Is part of my path here being without community? Is my community non-physical? Hopefully wolf spirit will have some lessons for me. When wolf calls for his pack does he howl in the midst of the trees or from a high place, overlooking the valley from whence he came?

Since my grandpa has died, I wonder where his soul wanders. Does he attempt to contact me? I've resigned myself to maintain distance from them for now, so I put up my walls with the parts of me that represent my own 7 directions. When I compare them to the universal elemental spirits, mine are broken: Water is too powerful and can't control the tides. Earth is afraid to move. Fire doesn't know what the others are doing, feels like it doesn't fit and tries to do go its own way. Air feels so helpless that it restlessly rips around in circles, conjuring thoughts that endlessly dovetail into others, creating whirlwinds of anxiety from possibilities that never come to be. Above wants to control them all and below wants to tear it all down. Within is a mess. [North (earth), west (water), south (fire), east (air), above (masculine), below (feminine) and within (wyrd, space, construct, etc.)] I must begin meditations again; beckoning to the universal elements in nature to help my own inner elements find their balance and place amidst each other. This work will be a foundation to later build myself upon; an anchor of sorts in the midst of our changing world. A place where I can always find my center.

I pray to the old gods for inspiration and wisdom. I pray to the animal spirits to teach me how to see what I've forgotten. I pray to the ancestors and elements to provide context. I pray for me, and for you; that as I find my way through the murky waters of our experiences, my metamorphosis will in some way assist/inspire you to perceive, behold and nurture your own potential, whatever you choose that to be.

Even in my pain I see beauty and know this bitterness will pass as all things do. I look to the future, your future and ours, and pray for a humanity united in our own unique centeredness.

I beckon to the Spirit of the Lotus. I go forward.

The Battle for the Soul: Part 2.

Well shit... So I called on every spirit being I've ever known and all that were interested that would help. Had quite a turnout. I got handed off back and forth quite a bit so not sure I remember who was who in any particular moment. Plus going into and coming out of the trance fucks with the memory quite a bit. We all met at the wall. Wolf spirit wanted us to find a way through, break away a small bit at a time and create a narrow breach into the unknown. Through this point, I can travel to and from, each time wearing down more and more until it disappears. Although not in disagreement, the shaman came from the shadows and in conjunction with the horned god of nature, took me straight up to the wall, turned me so my back was facing the wall and pressed me against it. They told me that the wall was put up with intention and would therefore be removed with intention. Facing into my known life, and without the illusion of vision, I perceived their message and with their help in modifying the way my spirit perceived, I saw the wall simultaneously as before and as it's own negative, intention. We switched to the negative perception and the wall faded completely for a few moments. It began to fade back proportionately with my recurring inhibitions; the reason for the wall in the first place. This is a time of great change and I must tread slowly as to not ensure I eventually transmute all of the intention to keep that wall, and that I don't venture too far past it when I do, until I have better control of my intentions for its existence.

I heard a voice nearby; the same child's voice that had called out to me before. I realized that it did not come from beyond the wall and exercised the same ability to perceive my environments negative that made the wall disappear. The world turned black in front of me except for a yellow-orange light emanating from a younger version of myself, battered and on his knees on the ground. I went to him to lift him up and he thanked me, saying that he'd been stuck there in that prison for so many years. He was very weak and the spirits that had come to help with the wall helped me hold myself up. We sat for some time together, face to face, and as the older me, showed my younger self [some of the] compassion I hadn't received then. We sealed our intention with a sensuous union of spirits, and I will continue to heal and integrate myself to wholeness. I knew then that I had locked myself away years before, hoping I would just change into something I wasn't in order to get the love I couldn't give myself from others in my life. There is much healing ahead, this part of me literally needs to receive the strength to walk again, and integrating a much less mature part of myself to an older me will be interesting to say the least. I know that the path must be compassionate and abundantly accepting.

I find it strange that I cannot recall whether it was the night before or after my soul journey, but I had a very disturbing dream: I was with a group of good friends in some wilderness location just doing whatever friends do, when we were attacked by gunfire. Helicopters, assault rifles, all the accoutrements of an all-out assault against my current state of being. After running for some time, loosing people on both sides, we finally glimpsed our attackers: 2 adolescent boys, about 12 years old. They started to shoot my friends where they were hiding, so I came out unarmed to confront them. I asked them what they wanted and why they were hurting us. Their answer is foggy but I remember they wanted to be known/recognized. I tried to be friendly and they seemed to respond fairly amiably. I got them to stop shooting at us but they told me I had to come with them. They said no one had ever been kind to them and that I needed to be their friend. The second boy went somewhere I couldn't see and so I stayed talking to the first. I realized he was me; a negative dream-aspect of myself saturated in so much enmity as to be willing to murder friends and my older-self. I did my best to provide as much compassion as possible to this younger me whilst in fear for my life at the volatile nature of his emotions. The dream memory ends there and I know the road to healing will be long, nuanced, delicate and difficult. It will take enormous courage but what other choice is there when I know I am to be made whole? [A rhetorical question, to be sure.]

The Battle for the Soul: Part 1.

This post is going to take a while, and I'll be updating it as often as there are opportunities to do so since this battle will take place over many campaigns...

I sniffed out the roots of the mighty hedge that separates my spirit, body and mind. Long ago the seed was sown and since has become unmanageable. Confronting this beastly barrier allowed an inspection of the enemy and my findings follow:

Daunting, enormous, interwoven with so many aspects of my perspective of reality. It's removal and eradication will be no easy or quick feat. It is not merely a matter of confronting a fear, accepting, loving, healing or any 'simple' action to transmute it and move on. This has become a part of myself. Although the idea originated from someone else, it became my own; I reinforced it and nurtured it, albeit unwittingly, for the last 25 years. It's like a bad relationship you've been in for [25] years, and you only now admit it to yourself. What do you do? It's easy to say let it go and move on, but it is so much more nuanced than that. I've identified with my wall for so long, doesn't it keep me safe from nightmares and demons; from the unknown? Knowing that safety and security are essentially illusory gives me strength. I know I created this wall and somehow I can take it down. But I'm afraid of vulnerability and change. What will I become? I've feared this death before and I can face it again if I must, although I know it isn't easy and certainly not fun... Perhaps I'm not meant to and never will be open to the spirit world? Perhaps it's not my path to see it as one and the same as I believe it to be? To that the shaman surprises me with a clear whisper to my mind, "You will." And with that, I accept in my heart that it is my path, and I prepare to face myself...

Stepping Down From Infinity and Wading Into Humanity.

It is dark and the snow has melted from the dripping rain, only to freeze again in the evening, leaving the earth encased in chunky ice. I drift into darkness with the warmth of my own body, trapped beneath layers of blankets that don't quite fit the bed. I drift into darkness slowly, putting my body to sleep, I intend to expand my consciousness. I drift in a dream and out again, I walk down a path but I can go no farther than where I stand. I can see the road ahead, and I can hear a voice calling to me, someone is lost and needs help; they need to be embraced and brought home. But I still can't go, my head stuck in position, my feet won't respond. I want to go; I need it, but something incongruous keeps me there.

I pull out and resume my life-long work of tracking my own fears, angers and blocks. When I catch their scent I am relentless. I am the wolf in the twilight of dawn who tenaciously stalks his prey; I am the hunter. I know I am close, I have been following this one a long time; sometimes I loose it's trail, only to pick it up again months later, and now the scent is strong. Something is wrong, however: usually, when I am this close I smell their fear, and this one is fearless, it tells me my efforts are in vain, insignificant. It doesn't even care I am so near. I am thrown off balance but still I pursue, I've come too far to give up. I see a memory: I must be about 3 years old; 2 was too young and by 4 I had already experienced the fallout of separation anxiety, my parents are there, not angry, just matter-of-fact, they inform me that my dreams and visions are nothing more than imagination. Not real. Made up in my mind. And I believed them. Didn't they know everything?

I recognize that now as the moment I had stepped down from infinity and waded into humanity. Something happened, just like a switch had been activated and all of my travels into spirit had been made up, false. It was both the moment in this life I stopped knowing who I was and all my confidence had been pulled out from under me at once. Fast forward through my childhood, adolescence and years of parent-enforced religion that underscored how separate we are from the spirit world; that I'm inherently a bad person, and I have to continually cut, paste and conform to someone's idea of perfection in order to ever have a chance of visiting that elusive realm of spirit. Even though I know the physical and spirit worlds are not separate at all; the idea of separation is merely a perspective, the identity of the beast is made clear and it has grown strong in me. It began as a seed, an idea that belonged to someone else, but I brought it within myself and tried to make it mine. Now it's roots grow deeper than I thought possible. I'm daunted by the task of uprooting this monstrosity. I don't even know where to begin. The wolf in me knows he lacks the strength on his own, but his cunning and tenacity can win in the end if I give him the chance. I must call in all the reinforcements that will come to our aid. The old gods and I have an ancient pact, I must provide them the space, call them in honor and humility, and we may triumph.

The voice ahead of me is a part of me that will have to wait. I must go back the way I came and destroy the idea[s] that keep me where I am. Only then can I save the child who hasn't been seen for decades and bring him home. And only he can re-teach me how to adjust my perspective; to travel into the spirit world again.

Horned God of nature, god of the hunt, god of the wild, you have helped me to stalk the prey, now help me dispatch it safely and swiftly. Lend me your sacred spear and hunt with me.
Earth goddess, mother goddess, show me the way of the healer, that I may heal myself and share that gift with others. Lend me your compassion and heal me.
Water spirits, surround me and dissolve me, take the distractions from me, show me how to use the liquid medium to move me with power.
Fire be gentle with me, your power is great, transform me and help me to understand you.
Air help me stay calm, as my inner world changes and affects the outer, help me stay stable in wisdom.
Stones give me strength of body as my spirit changes, let fire refine me and trust in its power to make gems from dust.

The Little Death & The Mountain Climber

Hi everyone, been a while. I'd say sorry but really, it is what it is. I've been talking to a friend online who's been going through a hard time (send him some healing compassion if you're into that), a tough life very similar to many of my own experiences. I've been doing my best to be there for him and offer as much support as possible; if nothing more than an empathetic soul to talk to, and offer a glimmer of kinship in the darkness of loneliness. But I moved too quickly and opened up too far (ok I admit it's probably because I like him, and I like him because he's going through so much of what I went through, but he's also kind, genuine, contemplative and loves the wilderness; I feel like there's so much we can and do share...) I allowed myself to become too vulnerable, and released too much emotion that wasn't healed yet. I had been practicing meditation pretty regularly, and after the emotional extravaganza, something stirred inside me during dreamtime, made aware by the meditation. From some external source a spirit worker appeared behind me. I recognized their energy, and they said they have always been there helping me along, but never directly. They wouldn't say why they were never in my awareness, like Wolf Spirit has been. They said I moved too fast in my dealings with my friend, and I released too much emotion, including emotion that wasn't healed. Apparently they'd been currently working on helping me to do so but in my interactions I 'ran down the hill too fast' so the good, bad and the ugly came alive. I started feeling physically ill (not bad, just noticeably more tired and weak.) In a later meditation the emotional energy really came alive and burst out of my body, somewhere between the traditional locations for the solar plexus and naval chakra locations. The imagery was bloody and full of gore. Of course my spirit lingered in the pain of unhealthily birthing un-transmuted negative emotion while it took the form of some bloody humanoid monster running around in my own darkness. I could feel the same medicine man behind me, watching, allowing me to make the next move. I recalled my own beast, forcibly in the end, and in my weakness I acknowledged it, accepted it, and reclaimed it inasmuch as was needed to bring it back within myself to finish the transmutation process. The medicine man took me and I fell into his arms; he transported us to a quiet forest full of darkness where he laid me in a hole in the earth, my abdomen still opened from the inside-out, exposed to spirit, bleeding everywhere. He indicated the breech was so great that I needed an extreme healing as fast as possible, and covered me with loose earth. It was fragrant and moist, like new soil for a garden. But I knew what we were doing in this garden of death, and Earth Mother began her healing on me right away. I could no longer see the shaman who always hid in the shadows, only showing himself in my awareness when he needed to intervene due to my missteps, but he whispered to my conscious mind, "You will rest now, until all is healed." And I knew I would not be doing any spirit journeying for some time as Earth Mother took me within her, absorbing the turmoil from myself and transmuting it.
I stayed in this state for a few weeks, and only recently started noticing my spiritual fortitude returning. Of course Wolf Spirit was there when I awoke and crawled from my grave, waiting for a different me. And although I cannot see him, I know the shaman is there, helping me finish that work and regain my strength, so that I can take the next steps in learning. And I've already started a new path, as any path after a death [no matter how small] is a new one. I am beginning to truly embody the Toltec Wisdom that reality is just another dream, and I am loosing [or loosening] my former attachments to so much of my anxieties, discovering my center and how to stay balanced there. I saw myself looking back in the direction of where I've come from and I was high up on a mountain whose heart was pure Spirit, and I can no longer see the trailhead of my childhood. It reminded me of the time I spent on dragon-spirit mountain, where once I got to the top, one of the great Dragons shared with me his Pearl of Wisdom; though my conscious mind struggles to remember what it was (a pity), though I am certain my soul remembers. And just because we do not have a vision in our mind's eye, or words to physically describe, does no mean spirit or soul are any less real. I look ahead and realize there is still infinity in front of me though, so I must keep walking...