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The Darkness of The Deep

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Shamanism 102: The Drug Myth


Not A Rockstar

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It never fails. When a new person to me writes to ask about Shamanism, or used to post back when I had a large forum for occultic topics, one of the very first things they wanted to know was what hallucinogens to take to be a shaman. 

I hate to break it to you if you also thought this was step 1, but drugs of any kind have no real need in shamanism. In some of the lines and traditions it plays no part at all. In the one I originated in it plays no part and intoxication for any reason was frowned upon, actually. You see, the mind and one's grasp on reality is a precious thing. Reality is very good thing to always know. When I was an acolyte in that Order, I spent my days studying and working as a scribe, learning to write and do it well. If there was no work for us to do for pay, then I would be copying texts I needed to memorize anyway and know well. In the evenings, we would gather with the Elders and learn about natural pathogens and remedies, or sometimes be taught some more aspects about the Order, discipline, the Histories, nature. Some nights, we would be taught mental exercises and meditations to begin the training of our mind to be able to find the doorway into the sub-conscious self and then how to pass through and travel over there in that sometimes strange land. This is what is called Journeying in Shamanism, though you will find different descriptions of where it is a shaman goes off to. It is a matter of training, education, and the Elders would have been horrified at the notion of using any substance to bring on an altered consciousness. To our way of seeing it all, to do something like that is to invite damage, breakage, in the preciousness of the mind of the shaman, and once broken the potential is lessened, if not lost entirely. You learn it, do not let it be done to you by some chemical reaction in your mind. 

As I touched on in the earlier post about this topic, there are great similitudes among all shaman and their practices. However, there are also differences in some things. It may have been a natural step into animism and then shamanism for the human race, but it still arose in very diverse cultures and sometimes different times. There will be differences. I can appreciate deeply going to a Native American Pow-Wow and watching the dancers. I once saw an Eagle Dance and had a powerful experience, saw the Eagle and heard it and flew with it even and spoke with it briefly, in the sense that it seemed his mind and mine were linked briefly and I got impressions of his joy and power and exhilaration as he flew. 

But, this does not make me the same as a Native American practitioner. That dance and The Eagle they called, what it means to them is not mine. I cannot tell you firsthand the lore of it in their tradition. We did not dance in our own tradition. This is a difference, despite the energy linking easily and the Eagle deciding to mess with my mind I think, just because it could and I was open to it. It was simply astral play for us. In his own wild way he was saying hello to me. I am not sure anyone else saw him, the dancers did not seem to. I sometimes feel at these Pow-Wows done for outsiders, their hearts are not in it as much as if they were back home and with only kin. Even so, they brought in a monster Spirit Eagle and it was amazing to be gifted this glimpse into one special and sacred part of their faith structure. I feel honored.

I cannot tell you where my Order originated exactly as yet, in ways that would make it knowable today. I know it was in roughly the Northeastern area of the African continent. It was, I suspect pre-Egypt or early, very early into the Egyptian formation. I think it was where we would see as being southern Egypt or northern Sudan today. It was a seemingly humble stone building not far from an oasis we controlled, on a major trade route. Our primary profit came from selling medical help, treatments, and scribe work. The religious aspects were simplistic and not our primary focus. Our purpose was the pursuit of knowledge and researching and gathering medicinal lore. I say seemingly humble because we did live simply and the ground floor was open to the public and simple. It was not a temple as such though there was a small shrine by the entrance to the compound for travelers to make devotions for safety on their routes. We sold small lamps to burn for that purpose and simple offering items. We sold food and shelter if needed. The water was free to anyone. 

The wealth was under the compound and kept rigidly secret, both that it existed and how to access it. Our texts were down there, and I remember hundreds of scrolls and sheafs like early books. I spent years down there copying and transcribing and preserving those things. There were other locations of our group and we got references in from all over the world it seemed to us. The obsession was knowledge, not religion, and developing our minds and learning and mastering the arts of the mind, to include journeys into the Shadow Realm - within each of us, where we all are One with Creator and All. Going into that realm and learning our way about is how we could learn more, gain understanding of everything and ourselves as well.

It took years and years to get good at it and we varied in how good each of us achieved. Most moved on at adulthood and worked as scribes and record keepers, we produced some of the best in those days. A few stayed on and eventually committed to the Order and stayed and these were what today would be called the shamans of the group. If you were not good at the Shadow Realm, you did not stay on.

Those were unsettled times, though. That location was attacked at some point by other people coming in to take control, and I remember getting down through the access to make sure the door was sealed securely to keep the scrolls safe. I died down there of my wounds. From what I can see today it never was found and is basically a loss now anyway. It was green then, scrubby growth away from the oasis and now when I go there on a journey it is all blowing sand. Not even the well or trees remain. I was maybe in my thirties when I died, perhaps early forties. I believe everyone died there in that attack. I have no information if the other locations went on or what they became.

I say all this to illustrate the value in allowing your own past to come forward if it will, and honor your own roots. I doubted for a long time, struggled with Christian ideas beaten into me in this life against reincarnation or how I could know these things. The fact is, I know this, I can sit down, relax and shift into the Shadows easily. It was a case of remembering what I had been taught, not learning again, once I got over the doubt.

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I think drugs give people a "false" spiritual experience. A easy one they don't have to work for. But still false. Hallucinations are not trips to the Other Place. Just trips.

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