Traditional Shamanism
by Jeffrey Pierce

Perhaps the greatest challenge in teaching traditional shamanism is that it is so distinct from modern shamanism that the two are almost completely separate paths. I've been wracking my brain, not only trying to figure out how to teach the traditional ways to the masses, but to explain the difference to the uninitiated.

Traditional shamanism has literally never been taught openly to the masses. It is taught, one-on-one, between the teacher and the student. The teacher gives direction and context, but much of the path is simply learned by the student interacting directly with the spirit and natural worlds in complete solitude. Probably 90% of the path is direct experience and hands-on solitary learning that doesn't come from the instructor. Instead it is learned through observation and interaction with nature and the spirit world. Traditional shamanism is extremely slow to unfold and each lesson is learned on three different levels of reality simultaneously. Magick isn't a theory, it's a tool. Verifiable results are anticipated and expected - and a student cannot move forward in their studies until they are able to achieve magickal success.

Totem Animals

It is easiest to illustrate the difference between traditional and modern shamanism through their approach to Totem animals. In modern shamanism, a Totem animal is considered, its symbolism and attributes explained, and parallels between the animal’s symbolism and our daily paths are taught.

That is not how Totems are approached in traditional shamanism.

For instance, the first Totem that I worked with was Ant. I learned Ant's story by laying face down on the sidewalk and observing, by sitting in front of anthills, by honoring the sugar ants that invaded my apartment whenever it rained, by watching ants battle other insects, and by watching them forage for food. I read books and watched documentaries on ant behavior and society. I considered myths and legends about Ant and ants from all over the world. My knowledge of Ant came from truly seeing Ant as a brother and honoring Ant's path, spirit, and calling the same way that I would any other honored practitioner. I didn’t study Ant; I developed an understanding and a connection with Ant.

The list of Totems that I typically work with is small, not because of a lack of interest, but because of a lack of opportunity to observe and get to know them. One of the Totems that I work with is Wolf. Not only have I had the honor of observing Wolf in the wild, but I spent countless mornings at the wolf enclosure at the local zoo, standing there alone before the crowds formed and watching the wolves interact with each other. (You know they except you when they let you start a morning chorus and join in with your howling.) I've studied wolf body language and pack composition extensively and can actually carry on non-verbal conversations with receptive dogs.

One of the reasons that I'm such an avid backpacker is so that I can earn the right to work with additional Totems. That right is earned by developing a relationship with the animal that embodies that totem's spirit. Raccoon, Deer, Elk, Sea Otter, Sea Lion, Pelican, Whale, Bald Eagle, Coyote, Rabbit, Lynx, and to a lesser extent, Bear, have all been learned exclusively in mountains or coastlines where I make camp. I'm hoping over the next two years to add Big Horn Sheep and Antelope to that list and have plans to attend an antelope birthing in Southern Oregon. Hawk, Crow, Dog, Cat, Mouse, Rat, Ant, Dragonfly, Spider and numerous birds were all observed within a grid of streets and buildings. As the path unfolds before me, I would love to have the opportunity to get to know Orca and travel to Alaska to spend time observing some of the larger Totems. If that opportunity unfolds, I'll be thankful for it. If it doesn't happen, I'll be thankful for where my path takes me instead.

Breathing and Listening

One of the key reasons behind this, “Either way is fine,” approach is that a traditional shaman lets go of the concepts of time and achievement. There is no hurry; things will unfold as they are meant to unfold. There is no success or failure, merely the moment in which you breathe. It's a completely different way of approaching Life. People often ask me, "How do you do so much in your day? You work so hard all the time!" The secret is simple. In this breath, I'm called to work. It's only one breath. Living one breath at a time lets go of the concepts that we use not only to measure ourselves, but to weigh ourselves down. When I get tired, I rest. When I feel led to, I play. In all honesty, there is very little of my path where I bend things to my will or preconceived ideas of how something should be. And when I do, I get cranky – which is a great reminder to slow down and breathe.

To a traditional shaman, people run into problems when they stop listening. Everything in our culture is about being heard. "If I don't speak up, then I'll never be heard," is a very common refrain. A traditional shaman would ask, "Why is it so important that you add to the noise?" Everyone is talking and trying to be heard, but no one is listening. When people come to me, frustrated and worked up over some issue, I listen to them. After all, "counselor" is one of a traditional shaman's many roles. I don't impart any great wisdom to them. I simply listen to what they're saying, find the solution in their own words, and offer it back to them. We all know our own paths. We simply don't listen to them. Sometimes, rather than saying a word, I'll smile, place my finger over their lips and simply say, "Breathe." When we move too fast, we tend to run right over our answers. Slowing down and listening - especially listening to ourselves - are two of the most powerful things we can ever do.

In addition to counselor and healer, a traditional shaman wears many other hats. They’re a storyteller. Traditional shamans move beyond what is seen and often use a combination of divination and common sense to fill in the blanks. They're a historian and strategist. If the Tribe needs direction, they must be able to find the correct path. Instead of the emphasis of their world being on themselves, their focus is on those around them. When someone under a traditional shaman's care experiences joy, the shaman shares that joy, even if the achievement runs contrary to the shaman’s own lessons. Their sorrow is the shaman's sorrow, even if it represents an easing of the shaman’s own path. A traditional shaman spends a lot of time simply caring for the people around them. We pay close attention to those who create our world and learn their strengths and their weaknesses, how to lift them higher when they're up or pick them up when they're down. Much of that is done in little ways - a kind word here, a spoken appreciation there, a hug, a touch, or a few special moments where celebrating the person is the focus of the shaman's undivided attention. Most of it goes by completely unseen or unnoticed and a traditional shaman doesn't think twice that they aren't thanked. Part of it is that shared connection. Part of it is that a traditional shaman learns to live one breath at a time.

A Different Perspective

The farther you move into traditional shamanism, the harder it is to explain. It's not for a lack of understanding, but because the rigid, modern world is an extraordinarily poor fit for describing traditional shamanism. If we were to describe a sunset in our modern lives, we'd use colors and light, and how the day slowly faded into night. A traditional shaman would stretch out on their back with you where you could see the sky and say, "Make note of how you feel, what you're thinking, the world around you, and where your energy is flowing. Now let’s watch the clouds." You'd lay there and talk as day faded into afternoon, as afternoon faded into night. Long after you found yourself gazing at the stars, just before it was time to leave, a traditional shaman would say, "Make note of how you feel, what you're thinking, the world around you, and where your energy is flowing. That was the spirit of this one unique sunset. It will be different tomorrow."

One of my favorite things about living in one breath, of slowing down, of observing, of listening instead of speaking, is that your world floods with beauty. You start seeing it in every moment. There is no good or bad, no light or dark. What you see is energy rising or energy fading. From the time you've spent quietly observing the natural world, you know that there is no beginning or end. There's simply a cycle. Each year, the flowers wither and die, whispering that life is gone and will never return. Each year they emerge from the soil, shouting that life has conquered the darkness and will never leave. There is equal beauty in the first cry of a newborn and the silent space someone leaves behind in their passing. It's not that birth is bad or death is good, but that when we live in on breath, we realize that another soul touched creation. They touched us. In their coming or their going, they made a difference and we were there to experience that single moment that will never again exist in all of time. That is a sacred thing.

The Environment

Traditional shamanism is very environmentally conscious, but not in the way most people think. We forget that there was a time when my teacher's people cut down trees to build their shelters and killed animals for their food. Most people think that a traditional shaman honors the passing of the tree or the animal because it was a brother or sister. That's hideously misleading. If you stop and think about it, we don't kill our brothers or sisters. A traditional shaman honors the passing of life simply because we listen. Their song was silenced so ours could go on. It is both a sorrowful and a sacred thing, one that we do out of necessity, but one we never take lightly. We believe that all of life is interwoven in a single chorus. Choosing to silence a voice would be too terrible to contemplate if we didn't live in a single breath. We honor their spirit and their sacrifice. We treat it as a sacred gift. To a traditional shaman, it can be nothing else. After all, we've spent time with Elk and Deer, observing and learning their ways. We have mimicked the way they move, the way they eat, the way they run. We have walked the earth as each Totem we work with for there is truly no other way to understand its path. We have turned to Tree for wisdom and perspective. To silence their song – even out of necessity – is a “big thing.” It is never taken lightly. Even to one who understands the cycle of birth/life/death/rebirth, that knows their spirit will return, it is still a “big thing.”

From a traditional shaman’s perspective, all of the craziness and turmoil that goes on in the world around us is because we have forgotten how to listen. The problem isn't that we cut down a tree or rely upon an animal for food; the problem is that we do it without listening. When we don't slow down, when we don't listen, we can't hear how the song changes. When one voice is stilled, it is a sacred sacrifice we never forget. As both a traditional shaman and a modern witch, each Samhain I honor not only the spirits of my two-legged brothers and sisters whose voice has been stilled, but of the animals who have provided the food which allows me to continue singing. I keep my diet simple, the meat is mostly chicken and fish, so that I don't forget a single gift or sacrifice. When we stop listening, when we don't slow down, we don't hear when the song changes. Notes are held too long. Sopranos are drowned out by baritones. Balance and beauty is lost. To a traditional shaman, the problems around us are as if a few people have started yelling in the midst of a choral concert. When the yelling stops, the song will eventually grow in strength once more.

Beginnings

The answer is the same as it always has been. You must plant the seed. The seed begins in you, so you must learn to listen to yourself and honor you for who you are. There is no good or bad; you are sacred. You learn to live one breath at a time. When you do this, because you are part of all things, your ability to listen and honor the sacredness begins to expand, first to those closest to you, and then to those a few steps away. If we all did this, the solutions to the problems that face us would present themselves. We would see the path clearly, simply because we slowed down and remembered how to listen.

One of the things to remember is that each traditional shaman cares for a Tribe. That connection starts with teacher and student before expanding to exist between the student and all of creation. Only by walking that path and embracing that connection yourself, whether it is one-on-one or with a larger group, will you truly see through a shaman's eyes.

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Originally published in Old Ways on January 22, 2011