Celebrate the Lunar Year of the Fire Horse

The Chinese Lunar New Year begins February 17, 2026. The Lunar New Year always arrives like a doorway--not just a change of calendar, but a shift in atmosphere. Each year carries its own symbolic weather, and when the Horse gallops in with the element of Fire, the air crackles. The Year of the Fire Horse is not subtle energy. It's movement, momentum, courage, and heat. It's the spark that turns longing into action.

In the Chinese zodiac, the Horse is a creature of freedom, vitality, and fierce independence. Add Fire--the element of passion, transformation, and illumination--and you get a year that doesn't whisper. It calls you forward. Fire Horse energy is about living vividly and honestly, shedding what confines you, and daring to pursue what makes you feel most alive. This is a year that favors boldness over hesitation.

The Spirit of the Horse

The Horse symbolizes motion--physical, emotional, and spiritual. Think of wind in your hair, open landscapes, instincts trusted without overthinking. Horse energy resists cages. It pushes against stale routines and outdated identities. If the past few years have felt heavy, stagnant, or overly controlled, the Horse arrives like a breath of fresh air through an open window.

But this isn't reckless chaos. The Horse's movement is purposeful. It runs because it must--because life itself is movement. Under this influence, we may feel a stronger urge to travel, change careers, speak our truth, or begin long-delayed creative projects. Suppressed desires tend to surface now, asking not to be analyzed but acted upon. The Horse reminds us that joy is not a luxury. It's a compass.

Riding Spirit Horse

As a spirit guide, Horse is a messenger to and from the spirit world and a psychopomp who leads departed souls into the afterlife. Horse represents personal power, stamina, endurance, freedom, independence, travel, adventure, and soul flight. As a form of transport for the body and the soul, Spirit Horse will let you ride him and will take you where you want to go. 

Do you need to get somewhere physical or spiritual? Spirit Horse will assist you and serve as your guardian spirit, giving safety in your physical and metaphysical journeys.

When Fire Joins the Ride

As the Chinese zodiac cycles through the 12 animals of the calendar, an element is added to each one (earth, wood, metal, fire, water), making it a cycle of 60. The element for the upcoming year is Fire. 

Fire amplifies everything. It is the element of visibility, drive, and emotional intensity. It burns away illusions and exposes what's real. Paired with the Horse, Fire creates a year of acceleration. Ideas move faster. Decisions come more quickly. Emotions run hotter.

This combination favors leaders, creators, and anyone ready to take initiative. It's less supportive of passivity. If you've been waiting for a "perfect time," the Fire Horse tends to say: This is it. Move.

Fire also represents transformation. Just as metal is forged in flame, we may find ourselves tested in ways that ultimately strengthen us. Challenges that arise this year often push us to become braver, more authentic, and less willing to settle.

The key is conscious fire. Unchecked, fire can burn bridges through impatience or impulsiveness. Guided, it becomes illumination--the light that shows the next step.

A Year of Personal Liberation

Known as a "Red Horse" year, 2026 symbolizes high passion, independence, and a desire for freedom. It is seen as a time for swift, decisive action rather than meticulous planning.

This is a potent time to break internal limitations--fear of visibility, fear of change, fear of disappointing others. Horse energy values self-trust. Fire energy values self-expression. Together, they encourage stepping into a fuller version of yourself, even if it disrupts expectations.

You may notice a collective push toward independence. People may leave unfulfilling jobs, redefine relationships, or pursue unconventional paths. Socially, there can be a restless, reforming energy--a desire for systems that allow more autonomy and authenticity.

On a personal level, this is a year to listen to your instincts more than your doubts.

Celebrating the Fire Horse

Lunar New Year traditions center on renewal, intention-setting, and inviting good fortune. During a Fire Horse year, celebrations can consciously include themes of vitality, courage, and forward movement.

1. Set Bold Intentions: Instead of cautious resolutions, choose intentions that stretch you. What would you pursue if you trusted your own momentum?

2. Honor the Fire Element: Light candles with intention. Spend time by a fire. Reflect on what you want to transform, release, or ignite within yourself.

3. Move Your Body: Dance, hike, run, practice yoga--anything that reconnects you with physical vitality. The Horse is embodied energy; movement clears mental fog and emotional blocks.

4. Gather with Joy: Laughter and celebration align beautifully with Horse energy. Share meals, stories, and music. Joy fuels the fire in a healthy way.

5. Take a Shamanic Journey: You can ride Spirit Horse on journeys through the inner realms of consciousness. If you ask, the wild, untamed spirit of Horse will teach you how to navigate the inner worlds.

Navigating the Intensity

Not everyone feels comfortable with high-energy years. If life feels overwhelming, grounding becomes essential. Fire needs a hearth. Create routines that stabilize you--sleep, nourishing food, time in nature. Balance action with reflection.

Conflict can arise when passions run high. Practice honest communication without letting reactions escalate. Remember that fire can warm or scorch; intention determines the outcome. Patience, paradoxically, helps you move farther.

The Deeper Invitation

Beyond ambition and action, the Fire Horse year carries a spiritual teaching: aliveness is sacred. We are not here merely to endure. We are here to experience, create, connect, and evolve. The Horse runs because life itself is motion. Fire burns because transformation is constant. 

This year invites you to participate in that dance more consciously--to say yes to growth, to risk visibility, to trust the pulse of your own becoming. Celebrate the Fire Horse by stepping into motion with courage. Follow what energizes you. Release what confines you. Let passion be a guide, not a threat. When the Horse runs with Fire in its spirit, it doesn't look back at the stable. It runs toward the horizon--and invites you to do the same. To learn more, look inside my autobiography, Riding Spirit Horse.

"A Journey Into Shamanism" Book Sale

I am now offering a 50% discount on my ebook Riding Spirit Horse: A Journey Into Shamanism. The ebook sale price is $2.99. Offer good through July 31st, 2023. In this spiritual memoir, I recount my journey into shamanic practice. The narrative of my story moves from my first ecstatic experience as a youth at a church revival to my mystical shamanic awakening in the wilderness, transformational pilgrimages to sacred places, working with indigenous wisdom keepers, to the experiences that prompted my writing, particularly my trance experiences "riding the drum" or Spirit Horse. Studying with Native elders and shamans, I discovered my shamanic gifts as a drummer, storyteller and ceremonialist.
 

A journey into shamanism is a pilgrimage of the soul. My journey has taken me down many spiritual paths. As a youth growing up, I embraced the teachings of Christ; I later studied and practiced the teachings of Taoism and Buddhism, all of which have their roots in shamanic practices from the earliest tribal communities. Shared core principles and truths weave a common thread through all spiritual traditions. This golden thread runs through the lives and the teachings of all the great prophets, seers and sages in the world's history.
 
Ultimately, all contemplative spiritual practice leads to the evolution of conscious awareness and union with the divine in the present moment. The perennial wisdom traditions teach us that the "here and now" is eternal, unchanging and omnipresent; it should be the primary focus of our life. When we are not present in the moment, we become a victim of time. Our mind is pulled into the past or the future or both. The present moment is all we ever have. The eternal now is the fundamental ceremony of life. When we bring ourselves fully into the present moment, our life becomes a spiritual practice and an opportunity to ride in beauty on the windhorse of authentic presence! I invite you to read Riding Spirit Horse: A Journey into Shamanism.

Love, Nature, Magic: Shamanic Journeys into the Heart of My Garden

In her new book Love, Nature, Magic: Shamanic Journeys into the Heart of My Garden, Maria Rodale takes the reader on an unusual autobiographical journey through her life. Rodale combines her love of nature and gardening with her experience in shamanic journeying, embarking on an epic adventure to learn from plants, animals and insects--including some of the most misunderstood beings in nature. Maria asks them their purpose and listens as they show and declare what they want us humans to know. From Thistles to Snakes, Poison Ivy to Mosquitoes, these nature beings convey messages that are relevant to every human, showing us how to live in balance and harmony on this Earth.

Rodale is the former CEO of now defunct Rodale Publishing, famous for magazine titles such as Men's Health, Runner's World, and Prevention, and also books including Al Gore's blockbuster, An Inconvenient Truth. Her approach to storytelling is fascinating and unique. She tells us at one point that her original intention was to write a straightforward book about plants, animals and insects, but somehow somewhere along the way she took a different path. The book is less of a single narrative than a series of episodes. In her garden, she periodically slips into a shamanic state of consciousness and communes with nature beings like bat, vulture, mosquito, mugwort, aspen, dandelion and milkweed. This allows her to transition easily from a mundane activity like weeding into a serious topic such as the genocide of Native Americans.
 

This is a beautiful book by a thoughtful author whose writing is both humorous and uplifting. However, it can be uneven at times. Some of the creatures she gives voice to are so preachy as to feel contrived--like the fireflies pleading against the use of pesticides and forever chemicals. At other times her thoughts flow so fast and free they are difficult to follow, like where she jumps from feminism to overpopulation to mosquitoes laying eggs in car tires. But overall she skillfully weaves together snippets of science with thoughts of nature and human existence in the future and episodes of her own life. She also gives voice to some of nature's most overlooked organisms with a wonderful imagination.
 

Rodale is hopeful and optimistic about the future. As she concludes at the beginning of her book, "I now believe it's possible to create a new Eden where knowledge is not a sin, desire is recognized as part of our human purpose, and love and understanding are the original blessings to be nourished and cultivated in the garden of our lives." To learn more, look inside Love, Nature, Magic: Shamanic Journeys into the Heart of My Garden.

Meeting My Shamanic Teacher

An excerpt from my memoir, Riding Spirit Horse: A Journey into Shamanism.
 

In November of 1988, my wife and I sold our home in Bend, Oregon and moved to Sedona, Arizona. I was on a spiritual quest, and my wife was a reluctant companion. At that time, Sedona was becoming known as a spiritual mecca, attracting pilgrims from around the world. I was one of those pilgrims. My artistic wife found work in one of Sedona's well known art galleries, and I found work as a bartender at a Sedona racquet club. Art and tennis funded our spiritual quests.
 

After several relatively uneventful months in Sedona, I finally had a profound shamanic experience. I attended my first shamanic drumming circle a few blocks from our apartment. I had picked up an event flyer in a neighborhood metaphysical bookstore which read:

 

"Shamanic Drumming Circle. Jade Grigori is a traditional shaman of Mongolian ancestry. In keeping with his intent to make accessible to all peoples, regardless of blood line, the knowledge and practice of 'The Ways' of Shamanism, he is calling forth a drum circle. Those of the community seeking to join together with others of like heart-beat in learning and experiencing the empowerment and filling of the light-body through shamanic drum ways, are invited to participate. Tuesday Nights, 7 p.m. to 9 p.m."
 

When I arrived at the host's house, I joined about 15 people sitting casually in a circle around the perimeter of the living room floor. Some people had drums and others did not. Most of the furniture had been removed to accommodate a large gathering. Two of the participants were percussionists who were giving a performance at a local venue after the drum circle. They brought a wide assortment of frame and ethnic drums. They passed instruments around the circle so that each person had a drum if they chose to play. I received a rawhide frame drum and beater as it came round the circle to me. I had never played a frame drum before. It was a very eclectic mix of people and rhythm instruments. I came to know a few of these participants very well in the months to come.
 

After our host introduced Jade, the elder shaman entered the room and sat down in our circle. His long hair was braided in a ponytail and he wore a deerskin jacket and a red headband. He carried a double-sided frame drum and a large medicine bundle. Jade laid down his drum and opened the leather bundle, removing feathers and ritual objects. He then lit a charcoal disc in an incense burner. In the darkened room, I could see blue sparks dance off of the charcoal as the sacred fire came to life. Jade sprinkled herbs on the burning charcoal and began smudging his sacred objects with three eagle feathers, fanning the smoke outward into the entire space. Smudging is the burning of herbs or incense for cleansing, purification and protection of sacred space.
 

Double-headed drums
 

Jade explained that a double-headed drum is preferred by some shamans for it constitutes a microcosm of the Universe, unites the masculine and feminine principles, and produces sounds with a tremendous dynamic range. The higher-pitched (red) head of the drum tends to affect higher levels of consciousness. Typically, shamans associate this drumhead with the sky, Upper World and masculine energy. It is linked to the mythic Spirit Eagle who perches atop the World Tree. Eagle Brother will carry the shaman's prayers to the Upper World, or the shaman may transform into Spirit Eagle and soar into the celestial realm. The shaman and the eagle are both intercessors between the celestial and human realms.
 

The opposite or lower-pitched (black) head of the drum affects deeper levels of consciousness. It is commonly associated with the Lower World, feminine energy and the archetypal Horse of mythology. The repetitive, droning rhythm of shamanic drumming is suggestive of a horse on a journey. Throughout Mongolia, shamans describe it as the exalted, buoyant state that one mounts and rides from plane to plane. Mongolian shamans ride omisi murin, their name for Spirit Horse, into the Lower World on healing journeys or direct Spirit Horse to carry the power and healing to the intended destination.
 

The rim of the drum is associated with the Middle World and the World Tree. The frame of the shaman's drum is invariably made of wood derived from a sacred tree associated with the Tree of Life or World Tree. Like the World Tree, which links the upper and lower realms of existence, the rim links the two sides of the drum--the yin and the yang. A double-headed drum integrates the feminine and masculine aspects of the Universe within itself. It restores the balance of these two opposite yet complementary energies.
 

Three-round shamanic drum journey
 

After smudging, Jade instructed us in the ritual use of the sacrament tobacco, the unifying thread of communication between humans and the spiritual powers. He showed us how to empower our drums by offering tobacco smoke or a pinch of tobacco. Offering grandfather tobacco carries our prayers to the "Loom of Creation," causing the "Tapestry of Creation" to reweave itself in accordance with those prayers.
 

Next, Jade taught us the drum beats for invoking Eagle Brother and Spirit Horse.(1) He instructed us to play the rhythms in unison so that the drumming creates a mesmerizing effect to induce trance. He cautioned us to avoid jam or free form drumming, which produces a cacophony of competing beats. The goal is to produce a sound that is unifying and consciousness-shifting. Sound waves carry the specific intention or desired outcome of the ceremony. Together the drummers create the necessary rhythmic container that channels the energy generated by the ritual performance toward the intended objective.
 

After learning the two rhythms, Jade set a group intention and then led us in a three-round shamanic drum journey. During the first round, we drummed the eagle-beat on the celestial (higher-pitched) head of our drums and soared on the wings of Eagle Brother into the Upper World. In the second round, we drummed the horse-beat on the Lower World (lower-pitched) head of our drums and rode Spirit Horse on a journey into the Lower World. In the third round, we switched back to the celestial side of our drums and again drummed the eagle-beat, offering prayers of thanks and gratitude to Eagle Brother and Spirit Horse for their help and assistance. Finally, Jade signaled the end of our journey and the drum circle with four strong beats.
 

I was transformed by the power of that drum circle--it was a defining moment in my life. There was something magical about our group journey experience. Ecstatic trance seemed to be more powerful and transcendent in a group setting. The vibrant energy was unifying, expansive and palpable. I could feel the spirits in the room. Shamanic drumming shook the Earth beneath me, split me wide open and lifted my spirit skyward. The ecstatic rhythms resonated to my very core. From that point on, I was hooked on drumming!
 

The next day, I went back to the store where I had picked up the drum circle flyer and purchased an octagonal double-sided frame drum. I returned week after week to Jade's shamanic drumming circles to learn the myths, healing rhythms and drum ways of an ancient shamanic lineage. Jade encouraged us to drum as often as possible in between our weekly gatherings. I would hike almost daily into one of the many red sandstone canyons around Sedona to drum. I gradually built up stamina while learning how to play the drum and ride its rhythm at the same time. Drumming inspired and empowered me in a way I had never felt before. Through drumming, I found a meaningful way to express my inner self without words. More importantly, I discovered my true calling--shamanic drumming.
 

1. You can listen to the Eagle Chant (eagle-beat) and Horse Chant (horse-beat) at: <http://www.archive.org/details/SacredSongsAndChants/>. You can find the lyrics at: <https://archive.org/details/SacredSongsChantsLyrics>.

Meeting Author William S. Lyon

While visiting my family in Kansas for the holidays in 1991, a friend of mine introduced me to William S. Lyon, the co-author of Black Elk: The Sacred Ways of a Lakota. We met Lyon at his home in Lawrence, Kansas. Lyon received his Ph.D. in anthropology in 1970 and has spent his career in the study of North American Indian shamanism, mainly among the Lakota. He first met Wallace Black Elk, a renowned Lakota medicine man, in 1978 when they jointly conducted a summer session course at Southern Oregon University in Ashland, Oregon. In 1986, Lyon left academia to spend full time traveling in the U.S. and Europe with Wallace Black Elk and Archie Fire Lame Deer. Over the next four years, Lyon taped the many talks given by Black Elk that resulted in the 1991 publication of Black Elk: The Sacred Ways of a Lakota. This highly-acclaimed book is entirely in the words of Black Elk.
 

Lyon had some great stories to share about his travels with Wallace. On one occasion, Lyon accompanied Wallace to the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota. They walked out into an isolated area far from habitation to attend a sweat lodge ceremony. Hanging in a tree near the sweat lodge was Chief Crazy Horse's sacred pipe or Chanunpa. Lyon asked Wallace if he was concerned about someone stealing the pipe. Wallace answered, "No one will ever take that pipe. One time we came out here to sweat and the pipe was gone. We went into the lodge and asked the spirits to return the pipe, and sure enough when we came out of the sweat, that pipe was hanging in the tree."
 

Wallace told Lyon that when Mount St. Helens erupted in 1980, a lava tube opened beneath the mountain and a column of lava is now flowing from Mount St. Helens all around the Pacific Rim or Ring of Fire. The Ring of Fire is an area where a large number of earthquakes and volcanic eruptions occur in the basin of the Pacific Ocean. Wallace said that this is a sign that the Earth Changes have begun. The phrase "Earth Changes" refers to the Indigenous belief that the world would soon enter a series of cataclysmic events causing major alterations in human life on the planet. This includes natural events, such as major earthquakes, the melting of the polar ice caps, a pole shift of the planetary axis, major weather events, solar flares as well as huge changes of the global social, economic and political systems.
 

Lyon also recounted the story of Wallace's silver eagle pendant being stolen from the altar at a sweat lodge ceremony in Ashland, Oregon. Just as he did at Pine Ridge, Wallace went into the lodge and asked the spirits to return the pendant. When he came out of the lodge, the pendant was back on the altar. Lyon was convinced that Wallace was one of the most powerful shamans in the United States. Wallace passed away on January 25, 2004 at his home in Denver, Colorado.

The Pyramid of the Magician

I first visited the Maya ruins of Uxmal in March of 1995. It was a transformational journey of self-discovery -- the culmination of a lifelong dream. The archaeological site is located about 50 miles south of Merida, the vibrant capital of the Mexican state of Yucatan. Uxmal was the greatest metropolitan and ceremonial center in the Yucatan during the Late Classic Period, flourishing between the seventh and tenth centuries. It was a seat of power in the southern Puuc region, the low range of hills in the otherwise flat lowland forests of the Yucatan. The city is home to two large pyramids and various temples, plazas and a ball court. Ancient raised roads called sacbes connect the structures, and also were built to other cities in the area such as Chichen Itza. The majestic temples of Uxmal are unique in their type because they were built on various levels and their facades are notable for the intricate stone latticework. The city's limestone structures have ornate carvings, friezes and sculptures embedded in the architecture.
 

The Pyramid of the Magician is the first building a visitor encounters when entering the ceremonial area of Uxmal. The pyramid stands out from other Maya structures because of its rounded corners, considerable height (115 ft), steep slopes and unusual elliptical base. I walked to the base of the pyramid and made a tobacco offering to the temple guardians, seeking permission to enter the shrine. I climbed the steep steps of the east staircase to the temple at the summit, known as the House of the Soothsayer. The elongated temple has an entrance on each side of the wide stairway. Each door of the temple represents the mouth of a cave leading into the heart of the sacred creation mountain. Inside the sanctum of the cave sits the portal that leads to the spirit world.
 

I entered the carved stone temple to find three ornate vision chambers. I sat cross-legged on the floor of the central chamber to meditate. I closed my eyes and stilled my mind by focusing on my breath as I inhaled and exhaled. I invoked the Vision Serpent, the Maya deity who serves as a gateway to the spirit realm. I asked for insight into the origins of Uxmal. This is what happened:
 

In my mind's eye, I could see into the distant past. I saw Plumed Serpent (the Maya creator deity) and three lightning deities, known as Chaac, K'awiil and Yaluk, create the Earth out of the primordial sea and populate it with animals. They wanted to create human beings with hearts and minds who could keep the days of the calendar, but their first attempts failed. When these creator deities finally formed humans out of yellow and white corn who could talk, they were satisfied. They used lightning to open up the Maize Mountain, making the maize seeds available to mankind. The three lightning deities then instructed the first people in the ways of language, culture and the spiritual sciences.
 

The core beliefs and principles of all spiritual cultural traditions originate from the thunder, lightning and rain deities. They are the source of all religious transmission, both ancient and new. As with many Mesoamerican cultures that based their living on rain-dependent agriculture, the ancient Maya held a special devotion for the deities controlling rain. The lightning deities had a particularly strong relationship with shaman-kings because kings were considered to be rainmakers and were able to communicate with the gods of rain, lightning and storms. Kings were initiated by the rain deities, thus becoming their human counterpart.
 

I could clearly see that Uxmal had an ancient and ongoing use as a mystery school dedicated to preserving, protecting and perpetuating the original wisdom teachings transmitted by the lightning deities. The so-called Nunnery Quadrangle of four palatial structures to the west and behind the Pyramid of the Magician was actually used as a school for the training of shamans, priests, calendar daykeepers, astronomers and mathematicians. The Nunnery Quadrangle was a school where teachings were not only transmitted orally, but were transmitted through didactic architecture -- or architecture as a teaching tool. The Maya intentionally used geometric forms to encode their cosmology in the architecture to educate initiates about natural laws and principles. The Nunnery Quadrangle is an enduring example of the sacred science and the high wisdom of the ancient Maya.

The Lost Art of Resurrection

An excerpt from my memoir, Riding Spirit Horse: A Journey into Shamanism.

 

Like a golden luminous jewel, Palenque perches above the lush tropical rainforest in the foothills of the Chiapas Highlands of southern Mexico. Humid air hangs heavy in this jungle acropolis overlooking the coastal plains of the state of Tabasco. Shrouded in morning jungle mists and echoing to a dawn chorus of howler monkeys and parrots, this temple city has a serene, mystical atmosphere. In antiquity, the Maya city was known as Lakamha, meaning "big waters." Tranquil spring-fed streams meander through the city and the temple summits offer spectacular views of the ruins and surrounding jungle. Flourishing in the seventh century, Palenque is an architectural masterpiece of unsurpassed beauty and spiritual force.

Palenque's most prominent structure is the Temple of the Inscriptions. The elegant temple crowns an imposing eight-stepped pyramid 75 feet above a great plaza. The temple gets its name from hieroglyphic inscriptions on three stone tablets, known as the East Tablet, the Central Tablet and the West Tablet, on the structure's inner walls. These large carved tablets emphasize the idea that events that happened in the past will be repeated on the same calendar date. The edifice was specifically built as the funerary monument for K'inich Janaab' Pakal, also known as Pakal the Great, ruler of Palenque in the seventh century.
 

Deep in the heart of the pyramid, Pakal's remains were found in a stone sarcophagus, wearing a mosaic jade death mask and elaborate jade jewelry. The intricate carving on the top of the seven-ton sarcophagus lid itself is an iconic piece of Classic Maya art and was crucial to understanding how the ancient Maya viewed death and rebirth. The magnificent bas-relief shows the cross-shaped World Tree -- which manifests in the dark night sky as the Milky Way or "White Road" to the Underworld -- and Pakal's relationship to it in death. The king is depicted at the moment of his divine resurrection in the unen or infant form of the lightning deity K'awiil, ascending from the Underworld on the starry Milky Way road to paradise and eternal life.
 

At Palenque, the Maya carefully encoded instructions for gaining eternal life in their architecture, art and hieroglyphic inscriptions. The Maya believed that the real purpose of our lives is to grow ourselves into godlike beings of power and beauty. Survival of the personal aspect of the soul was the goal for Maya shamans. They believed that there are two souls. Every human being has a "life soul," one that is linked to the body and that, should it depart the body, would cause death. It remains within the body until the moment of death. There is also a second soul, or "free soul." The free soul can roam free from the body without harming the person. It corresponds to the dream or astral body. Upon death, it journeys to the pool of souls from whence it may reach back to us and communicate with us through portals to the Underworld -- caves and pyramids.
 

The resurrection of the free soul was what the ancient Maya shamans hoped to achieve. The Maya believed the soul to be regenerative to its core; ultimately its purpose is to regenerate itself. The human soul manifested from the Otherworld paradise through the portal jaws of the great Vision Serpent. If it succeeded in growing into its divine potential by nurturing itself through education and ecstatic bonding with the gods, it could recreate itself after death wearing its own individual "face," then dance forever on the surface of the infinite otherworldly sea. The lightning-serpent energy that fueled the soul's resurrection came from the rain deity K'awiil.
 

The Maya shamans believed death is "behind the times," caught up in a previous and less advanced era, lacking knowledge of the art of resurrection. There is a dramatic difference between the idea of resurrection and a belief in the soul's immortality. Resurrection -- raising up again -- means that something has truly died and then brought back to life. Immortality, on the other hand, assumes unbroken continuity of the soul's existence after the death of the body.
 

The ancient shamans of Palenque built a resurrection generator on a large elevated plaza in the southeast corner of the city surrounded by jungle covered hills. Archaeologists call this ch'ulel "power plant" the Cross Group or Temple of the Cross complex. It is made up of three pyramid temples arranged in a triangular pattern. The shaman architects who designed the Cross Group believed they had discovered the earthly site of the three hearthstones of creation. In Maya cosmology, a triangle of three stars in the Orion constellation represents the hearthstones of the cosmic fire the gods had set to begin the present world age. Using geomantic divination, they detected the location of the invisible stones and built the temples over them, forming the shamanic infrastructure that powered the resurrection process.
 

The Temple of the Cross is the largest and most significant structure. They placed it on a hill at the northern apex of the cosmic hearth. On the inside back wall of the temple sanctuary, they installed a carved stone tablet depicting the branching World Tree at the moment the Maize God lifted it to the sky. At the western corner of the triangle, they constructed the Temple of the Sun and erected a tablet on the back wall portraying warfare, human sacrifice and a shield adorned with the Jaguar Sun God. At the eastern corner of the hearth, they built the Temple of the Foliated Cross honoring the deity Unen K'awiil, a personification of young maize, and placed within it a tablet showing the World Tree as a maize plant. It depicts King Pakal, wrapped in his death shroud, rising up from the Underworld in his "resurrection body."
 

The shaman-astronomers arranged the pyramids so that as the night sky wheeled through its yearly cycle to reenact the events of creation, the three temples would engage this celestial pattern and reactivate the sacred time of that first awakening. On August 13, a date the Maya associate with creation, the night sky goes through a cycle from dusk to dawn that recounts the story of the transition from the third world into the fourth world when humans were created. During that evening, when the stars and constellations took up their creation-resurrection positions, and the glowing Milky Way/World Tree rose in the heavens, the temple complex came alive with Otherworldly forces.

Meeting My Spirit Guide

An excerpt from my new book, Shamanic Journeys: An Anthology.
 

My journey into shamanism began in 1988 when I learned how to take a shamanic journey. Learning to journey is the first step in becoming a shamanic practitioner. Once I learned to journey, my shamanic training began. I sought out and met my spirit helpers and guardian spirit. I made friends with the spirits of Nature. I communed with the archetypal realms of the collective soul. The spirit world became my classroom, and the spirits became my teachers. My first powerful journeys took place outside in the wild, immersed in the natural world. They were transcendent flights of the soul that I shall never forget.
 

I remember riding my bicycle through the forest one summer day when a monarch butterfly flew directly into my path. The butterfly is an archetypal symbol of transformation, transmutation and the human soul in world mythology and religion. Virtually all cultures have marveled at the process that transforms a caterpillar into a fluttering butterfly. When I encounter one of these remarkable beings, I stop and observe them carefully. I have learned to trust these endearing spirit guides. I once had the soul of a deceased relative appear to me as a butterfly on the day that she passed away. The butterfly landed on my nose while I was hiking that day. I felt her presence and knew that she was with me. Butterflies have brought me messages from my ancestors and guided me to specific places of power in the web of life on many occasions.
 

The monarch butterfly fluttered across the road in front of my bicycle and into the pine forest. I felt the urge to follow it. Over the years, I have learned to trust my intuition and follow my inner urges. This is a common form of communication and instruction by helping spirits.
 

I got off my bike and pursued the butterfly into the woods on foot. When it paused or changed directions so did I. If I lost sight of it, the monarch would soon reappear. Eventually, the butterfly led me to an area of disturbed soil under the forest canopy. I found several badger burrows dug into the sandy pumice soil. Badger is a spirit helper who connects us to our inner knowing and helps us see below the surface of things. The energy felt different here. There was an electrical tingle in my hands and scalp. I knew instantly that this was a power place for me -- a place to journey.
 

I returned the next day on my bike, bringing a Walkman cassette player and headphones so I could journey listening to the sound of drumming. I also brought a voice activated micro-cassette recorder so that I could narrate and record my journey as it transpired. This can be distracting at first, but it is one of the best ways I know to make sure you are getting all the information your helping spirits are giving you. On my first journey sitting near the entrance to a badger den, I encountered some very influential teachers.

The drumbeats carry me away on the wings of an eagle. I soar high over South Sister (a volcanic peak in the Central Oregon Cascades) and then dive into a cave on her south flank. Clear quartz crystals shimmer from the walls, floor and ceiling. I transform into a man and follow a narrow path through the crystal cave. The path leads me through a labyrinth of twists and turns until the cave ends abruptly in a wall of crystals. A small portal appears in the wall and sucks my awareness into a dark tunnel. I spiral downward and come out of the tunnel onto the rim of a red mesa. I see a pueblo below me at the base of the mesa. I hear drumming and chanting and see many dancers.

Suddenly, I become one of the dancers. I gaze at the man who plays the booming drum. He wears a ceremonial kilt, sash and red headband. He smiles at me and chants loudly. At the sound of his voice, I transform into a golden eagle and take flight. I circle the pueblo and then glide over the desert. I soar towards the sun high above the Earth. I see the Earth below transform into a beautiful crystal globe. I fold my wings and plunge to the Earth below. I fly across the desert to the ruins of an ancestral Puebloan cliff dwelling built high in the alcove of a towering sandstone cliff. I fly into a doorway and transform once again into a man. 

 

I look at the floor of the room and see the white bones of a human skeleton. The skeleton rises, transforming into a beautiful Pueblo woman wearing a royal blue shawl and a radiant white knee-length manta-dress embroidered with corn designs. Her black hair is styled in a traditional butterfly whorl. She wears white buckskin moccasins and a woven red sash around her waist. She walks toward me and gently caresses my cheek with her hand. She smiles and says, "I am your guide."  

 

I clasp her outstretched hand and we both transform into golden eagles. We fly away from the cliff dwelling and soar high above the desert. As the sun begins to set on the horizon, we separate and I return rapidly to the red mesa above the pueblo. I enter a small portal in the top of the mesa and retrace the passage back to my body.

The spirit guide I encountered in the preceding journey became my mentor in the ways of the spirit world. Known as Corn Woman or Corn Mother, she is an important deity archetype in Pueblo mythology. She represents fertility, life and the feminine aspects of this world. The importance of corn deities in Pueblo mythology reflects the importance of corn in the Pueblo diet. Each pueblo performs a ritual Corn Dance to honor Corn Woman and pray for rain, growth and fertility. A drummer and a chorus of chanting men support the lines of colorful dancers who move in a continually changing zigzag pattern. The dancers make gestures to indicate their requests to Corn Woman: lowering the arms depicts the lowering clouds, moving the arms in a zigzag motion denotes lightning, lowering the palms signifies rain, and lifting the hands symbolizes the growing stalks of corn.
 

The drummer I met in my spirit journey later manifested as a human guide in the physical world. Like the drummer in my journey, he wore a red bandana around his forehead and carried a drum. The shaman's name is Jade Grigori, and he mentored me in shamanic drumming.

"Shamanic Journeys" Book Release

It is with great pleasure that I announce the release of my new book, Shamanic Journeys: An Anthology. This book is an anthology of shamanic journeys that I have taken over my 35-year exploration of shamanism, the most ancient and most enduring spiritual tradition known to humanity. Each inner journey has a unique story about what led up to the trance experience, and what I learned from it. They were powerful life-changing events for me. Journey work is therapeutic and liberating. My trance experiences were healing, insightful and empowering. They often triggered the cathartic release of suppressed emotions producing feelings of peace and well-being. The process restores emotional health through expression and integration of emotions.
 

Shamanism is based on the principle that innate wisdom and guidance can be accessed through the inner senses in ecstatic trance. We can engage the blueprint of our soul path through the vehicle of journeying. Shamanic journeying is a time-tested medium for individual self-realization. We can journey within to access wisdom and energies that can help awaken our soul calling and restore us to wholeness. It heightens our sense of mission and purpose, empowering our personal evolution. I invite you to journey with me into the inner realms of consciousness.

 

What is Shamanic Journeying?

Shamanism represents a universal conceptual framework found among indigenous tribal humans. It includes the belief that the natural world has two aspects: ordinary everyday awareness, formed by our habitual behaviors, patterns of belief, social norms, and cultural conditioning, and a second non-ordinary awareness accessed through altered states, or ecstatic trance, induced by shamanic practices such as repetitive drumming. The act of entering an ecstatic trance state is called the soul flight or shamanic journey, and it allows the journeyer to view life and life's problems from a detached, spiritual perspective, not easily achieved in a state of ordinary consciousness.

Basically, shamanic journeying is a way of communicating with your inner or spirit self and retrieving information. Your inner self is in constant communication with all aspects of your environment, seen and unseen. You need only journey within to find answers to your questions. You should have a question or objective in mind from the start. Shamanic journeying may be undertaken for purposes of divination, for personal healing, to meet one's power animal or spirit guide, or for any number of other reasons. After the journey, you must then interpret the meaning of your trance experience.

The drum, sometimes called the shaman’s horse, provides a simple and effective way to induce ecstatic trance states. When a drum is played at an even tempo of three to four beats per second for at least fifteen minutes, most novices report that they can journey successfully even on their first attempt. Transported by the driving beat of the drum; the shamanic traveler journeys to the inner planes of consciousness.

Contents
Introduction
1. Meeting My Spirit Guide
2. The Moon Goddess
3. The Guardian Spirit
4. The Storm
5. Drumming in Boynton Canyon
6. The Navajo Storm Pattern Rug
7. The Sweat Lodge Ceremony
8. The Great Kiva
9. Healing the Land
10. The Medicine Tipi
11. Spirit Horse Falls
12. The Pyramid of the Magician
13. You are Kukulkan
14. The Mystery of Death and Rebirth
15. The Earth is a Drum
16. The Rainbow Bridge
17. The Feathered Serpent
18. The Snowy Owl
19. Breitenbush Hot Springs
20. Guardian of the Pipe
Appendix A. Taking the Shamanic Journey
Appendix B. Ten Good Reasons to Take a Shamanic Journey
About the Author

Writing a Spiritual Memoir

As an author and blogger, my days are spent writing stories and blog posts. When I first entertained the idea of writing my spiritual memoir Riding Spirit Horse, I asked myself: "Why should I write my story? Will anyone care about it? Will anyone read it? What does it matter?" Of course, we can talk ourselves out of anything because ultimately very few of us will live extraordinary lives or have remarkable stories from the past. Nevertheless, I believe in the value of writing our stories because the life it could change may not be a reader's but our own.
 

Writing a memoir encourages self-reflection and self-examination, which can stir up long-buried emotions. Looking back over the arc of my life was a cathartic process that purged repressed emotions linked to events in the past. As I read through my journals, I relived past events that I had tried hard to forget. It was difficult but very therapeutic. I also rediscovered many fond forgotten memories, evoking nostalgia and a warm sense of joy. In writing my story, I feel like I have integrated all of my life experiences into the present moment. I remember who I really am and how I got here. I am truly more whole.
 

The process of writing a memoir becomes a meaningful and fulfilling journey to wholeness. The past self is fully integrated with the present self. In large part, this is the power a good memoir evokes in both the writer and the reader. Healing takes root through storytelling when the author makes self-discoveries. When those discoveries are revealed in a well-crafted narrative, the author has the makings of a compelling story. As author Thomas Larson puts it in his insightful book The Memoir and the Memoirist, "a memoir imaginatively renders our evolving selves and critically evaluates how memory, time, history, culture, and myth are expressed within our individual lives."
 

So I would encourage you to write your own story. Writing helps you claim a conscious identity, grounding you in a firm sense of self. Writing your story is very empowering. It helps you find your own unique voice. Through writing, you begin to make meaning of your life. It's a fundamental human need to know our past, how it links to the present and where we fit in. Many of us walk around in a fog of past events that we never fully understood or processed. When you write your story, you create an ordered pattern out of past events, and thereby construct meaning. You form a clearer understanding of who you are and how you got to where you are.
 

Once you have expressed an understanding of what your story means to you, you can then share it with others. Though we write for ourselves, a story implies both a narrator and a listener -- it is created for the purpose of sharing meaning and understanding. Stories help us connect with others and create relationships. For those of us who feel alone, our stories act as bridges to others and build community. Our stories allow us to be known and seen, understood and appreciated.
 

Willa Cather, an American Pulitzer Prize writer known for her novels of life on the Great Plains, once wrote that: "There are only two or three human stories, and they go on repeating themselves as fiercely as if they had never happened before." When writing a memoir, we may each be telling "the same stories," but we do it with our own unique use of language, imagery and style, which to me is what's most important. Every story has its own distinctive personality, tone and feeling.
 

Writing our life stories is an inner pilgrimage of transformation -- both cathartic and enlightening. We cannot help but grow, expand and change through this conscious probing engagement with our inner worlds. We learn more about ourselves and often bring closure to unresolved issues. Transforming our life into words is one of the most creative pursuits we can engage in, fostering a great sense of achievement. So treat yourself to the experience. Forgive yourself for past mistakes, embrace the past sorrow, appreciate the good times, and start writing your legacy!

The Importance of Corn Deities

First grown in Mexico some 5,000 years ago, corn soon became the most important food crop in North and Central America. Throughout the region, Puebloans, Mayans, Aztecs, and other Indigenous peoples worshiped corn deities and developed a variety of myths about the origin, planting, growing, and harvesting of corn, also known as maize. Secular and ceremonial life centered around the growing cycle of corn. Corn became an archetype planted in our collective unconscious.  
 

In the process of writing my spiritual memoir, Riding Spirit Horse, I discovered a recurring theme. One motif that keeps repeating itself in my shamanic journey and trance experiences is that of corn. On my first shamanic journey into the spirit world in 1988, I met a spirit guide who became my lifelong mentor in the ways of the spirit world. Known as Corn Woman or Corn Mother, she is an important deity archetype in Pueblo mythology. She represents fertility, life and the feminine aspects of this world.
 
The importance of corn deities in Pueblo mythology reflects the importance of corn in the Pueblo diet. Each pueblo performs a ritual Corn Dance to honor Corn Woman and pray for rain, growth and fertility. A drummer and a chorus of chanting men support the lines of colorful dancers who move in a continually changing zigzag pattern. The graceful dancers turn and pause, then turn again, creating a sweep of movement that ripples through the line like a breath of wind through stalks of ripening corn. The dancers make gestures to indicate their requests to Corn Woman: lowering the arms depicts the lowering clouds, moving the arms in a zigzag motion denotes lightning, lowering the palms signifies rain, and lifting the hands symbolizes the growing stalks of corn. It is a dance that evokes the timeless Pueblo way of being.
 
On my first pilgrimage to the Maya pyramids and ceremonial centers of Mexico in 1995, I had a vision of the Maize God, giving me insight into the mystery of death and rebirth. The Maya Maize God is a mythical dying-and-reviving god who was killed by the Lords of the Underworld, brought back to life by his sons, the Hero Twins, and emerged from the Underworld as corn. For horticultural societies like the Mayans and Puebloans, maize is the substance of life. Its growing cycle is a metaphor for the death, burial and rebirth of humans. When the corn seed from the harvest is blessed and interred in the earth, it is as though a dead human is buried. The embryonic seed germinates in the dark, moist earth and begins to grow. The corn plant turns its leaves toward the light of the sun, growing taller and taller. At the end of the season, when the corn cobs are fully ripe, it is as if the dead person surfaces to join the living. Just as darkness gives rise to light, so life grows from death.

Storytellers and Drums

An excerpt from my new memoir, Riding Spirit Horse: A Journey into Shamanism.
 

In the fall of 1991, my wife, Elisia, and I decided to travel for several months visiting bookstores and promoting my first book, The Shamanic Drum. At the time we were living in Bend, Oregon. We put our personal belongings into storage and ventured south through California and the Desert Southwest. We visited national parks and the Pueblo villages of Zuni, Acoma and Laguna.
 
After departing Laguna, we visited friends in Albuquerque. We spent the night in Albuquerque and then headed north to Santa Fe. We stopped at Cochiti Pueblo along the way. Cochiti Pueblo is renowned for its deep-toned ceremonial drums. Cochiti drums are crafted from hollowed logs, usually aspen or cottonwood--trees native to the high desert climate. Wet cowhide is stretched across the hollowed log and fastened with rawhide lacing. Different cowhides create different tones, and experienced Cochiti drum makers know the characteristic sounds of different skin types. Drums may also feature traditional artwork on the rawhide drum heads.
 
We arrived in Cochiti on a Sunday and roamed the sun baked streets of the ancient adobe pueblo looking for drum makers, but none were open for business. We circled the great round kiva that stood at the heart of the village and then spotted a hand painted sign in front of an adobe home: "Storytellers Here." A storyteller doll is a clay figurine made by the Pueblo people of New Mexico. The first contemporary storyteller was made by Helen Cordero of the Cochiti Pueblo in 1964 in honor of her grandfather Santiago Quintana, who was a tribal storyteller. It looks like a figure of a storyteller, usually a man or a woman, and its mouth is always open. It is surrounded by figures of children or animals, who represent those who are listening to the storyteller.
 
We parked in front of the house and knocked on the door. A smiling middle-aged man opened the door and invited us into his home. He invited us to sit down on comfortable armchairs in the living room and asked if we would like to see some of his daughter's storytellers. We nodded our heads, and he called out to his daughter to bring out her pottery. A dark-skinned, beautiful young woman entered the room with some of her exquisite hand painted figurines. Elisia purchased one of the storytellers and thanked them for their hospitality. The Cochiti people are known for their hospitality and friendship towards visitors who are welcomed to many of the annual ceremonies. I asked them if they knew of any drum makers open for business. The man shook his head no and suggested that we visit the Palace of the Governors in Santa Fe where Pueblo artisans sell their wares.
 
We headed north to Santa Fe and made our way to the Palace of the Governors. The Palace of the Governors is an adobe structure located on Palace Avenue on the Plaza of Santa Fe in the historic district. It served as the seat of government for the state of New Mexico for centuries and is the oldest continuously occupied public building in the United States. Pueblo artisans display their handmade wares on blankets under the portal of the Palace of the Governors. We strolled the plaza and admired the fine work of the artisans, which included pottery, textiles and jewelry made of traditional materials such as turquoise, coral and silver. At last we came upon what I had been searching for: Cochiti drums. Renowned Cochiti drum maker Gilbert Herrera sat on a folding camp chair with his drums displayed on a colorful blanket. Gilbert, a fourth generation drum maker, learned the craft from his father, Redbird. I purchased a log drum with a deep resonant tone and complimented Gilbert on his fine craftsmanship.
 
From Santa Fe, we drove to Taos and visited the famed Taos Drum Company. The owner gave us a tour of the large drum making facility. I left a copy of my book with the owner. We then visited the shop of resident artist and third generation drum maker Frank Mirabal in Taos Pueblo. Mirabal, a Taos Pueblo Indian, followed the example of his father and grandfather and became a drum maker. He acquires and processes the hides: deer, elk, buffalo, horse and cow. The frame of each drum is made from a hand-hollowed log of aspen or cottonwood: trees from his area that will not dry and crack easily. The pitch of the drum depends on the diameter and the depth of the drum.
 
We purchased three of Mirabal's beautiful log drums, one of which was later gifted to Wallace Black Elk, a traditional Lakota elder and spiritual interpreter. Born and raised on the Rosebud Reservation in South Dakota, Wallace was one of the original spiritual advisors to the American Indian Movement, a grassroots organization formed to address issues of poverty and police brutality against Native people. He was present at the occupation of Wounded Knee and was instrumental in the passage of the American Indian Religious Freedom Act in 1978.

"Riding Spirit Horse" Book Release

Happy vernal equinox! I hope you're safe and remaining hopeful despite the horrific world events taking place. It's a head-spinning, anxiety-inducing time. The past two years of the coronavirus pandemic have been filled with unprecedented challenges and uncertainty. Immersing myself in a writing project was my way to cope with a global pandemic that has affected everything and everyone. The isolation and prodigious amount of free time provided fertile ground for writing my life story. So it is with great pleasure that I announce the release of my autobiography, Riding Spirit Horse: A Journey into Shamanism. 

 

In this spiritual memoir, I recount my journey into shamanic practice. It has been a lifelong process--a path that continues to unfold. I am sharing my journey and learnings because many people in today's world are being called by Spirit to become shamans or shamanic practitioners. A yearning exists deep within many of us to reconnect to the natural world. It is a call to a life lived in balance with awareness of Nature, of Spirit and of Self. We live in a culture that has severed itself from Nature and Spirit. Humans have lost touch with the spirit world and the wisdom of inner knowing. The spirits, however, have not forgotten us. They are calling us to a path of environmental sanity, to rejoining the miraculous cycle of Nature.
 

The narrative of my story moves from my first ecstatic experience as a youth at a church revival to my mystical shamanic awakening in the wilderness, transformational pilgrimages to sacred places, working with indigenous wisdom keepers, to the experiences that prompted my writing, particularly my trance experiences "riding the drum" or Spirit Horse. Studying with Native elders and shamans, I discovered my shamanic gifts as a drummer, storyteller and ceremonialist.
 
A journey into shamanism is a pilgrimage of the soul. My journey has taken me down many spiritual paths. As a youth growing up, I embraced the teachings of Christ; I later studied and practiced the teachings of Taoism and Buddhism, all of which have their roots in shamanic practices from the earliest tribal communities. Shared core principles and truths weave a common thread through all spiritual traditions. This golden thread runs through the lives and the teachings of all the great prophets, seers and sages in the world's history.
 
Ultimately, all contemplative spiritual practice leads to the evolution of conscious awareness and union with the divine in the present moment. The perennial wisdom traditions teach us that the "here and now" is eternal, unchanging and omnipresent; it should be the primary focus of our life. When we are not present in the moment, we become a victim of time. Our mind is pulled into the past or the future or both. The present moment is all we ever have. The eternal now is the fundamental ceremony of life. When we bring ourselves fully into the present moment, our life becomes a spiritual practice and an opportunity to ride in beauty on the windhorse of authentic presence! I invite you to look inside Riding Spirit Horse: A Journey into Shamanism and to view the official book trailer.

Vagabonding as a Spiritual Path

The natural world is my muse and sanctuary -- a place for refuge and discovery. My most memorable moments have been in the outdoors. I have hiked thousands of miles of trails through forests, deserts and mountains. Having spent much of my life traveling and trekking, I still crave adventure and new experiences. Vagabonding or nomadic wandering is a unique way of living, a spiritual path to authenticity, self-awareness and solitude. Solitude allows time for self-examination, relaxation away from urban stress, and a chance to meditate, contemplate, or just zone out for hours at a time. Many of my most memorable experiences took place during solo journeys into Nature. The longer the solo immersion, the more transformational the experience.

In October 2011, I felt Spirit calling me. I felt compelled to travel to the sacred sites and power places that beckoned me. I followed my intuition and deepest instincts. I traveled with my drum and medicine bundle to shamanize the meridian system of Mother Earth's numinous web, which is the planetary counterpart to the acupuncture meridian system of the human body. At the intersection points of the planet's energy web exist holy places, power spots, or acupuncture points. Like acupuncture needles, humans are capable of maintaining the harmonious flow of the planetary energy meridians by making an Earth connection at power places.

Many magical things happened during my two month pilgrimage. I camped at Panther Meadows on Mount Shasta. I hiked among the oldest living things on the Earth in the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest. I soaked in the healing waters of Umpqua, Buckeye, Travertine, Whitmore, and Keough Hot Springs. Indigenous people worldwide believe that where fire and water mix at a hot spring is a sacred place. A water deity, usually a goddess, resides in each spring. People make pilgrimages to thermal springs to connect with the goddess and to supplicate the benefits of her healing graces. The sacred ambience of the place, its geothermal energy and the pilgrim's relationship to it, is sufficient to fulfill the pilgrim's aspirations.

I ventured south through California and explored the Owens Valley area on the east side of the Sierra Nevada crest. Before returning home in early December, I planned a four day desert exploration. On day one, I visited the Sleeping Lizard, which is an ancient vision quest site located in the Volcanic Tablelands north of Bishop. This site is sacred to the Owens Valley Paiute people, who use alcoves in the rock for vision quests. I took a journey back in time to visit the ancient ones who etched petroglyphs in the volcanic rock.

Next, I drove up the Whitney Portal Road towards the trailhead that hikers climb up to Mount Whitney. Unfortunately the road to the trailhead was closed for the winter. I backtracked down the road and camped in the Alabama Hills, located in the shadow of Mount Whitney just west of Lone Pine. The rounded weathered contours of the reddish-orange foothills contrast with the sharp ridges of the Sierra Nevada to the west. Throughout the last century, the Alabama Hills have appeared in hundreds of films and commercials. During my visit, a Quintin Tarantino project (Django Unchained) was being shot there.

In one day I drove from Mount Whitney (the sacred masculine), the tallest mountain in the continuous 48 states, into Death Valley (the sacred feminine), the lowest elevation in North America. Shortly after entering Death Valley National Park, I took an eight-mile detour north along the Saline Valley Road to visit a Joshua Tree forest at Lee Flat. The Saline Valley Road is very rough and progress was slow, but I eventually reached the magical forest. A cold wind buffeted me each time I left the confines of my truck to hike and photograph the forest. I would have camped here for the night if not for the high elevation and bitter cold wind. I camped instead at Panamint Springs Resort, 22 miles inside the western border of Death Valley National Park.

The following day, I explored Darwin Falls and the remote Panamint Valley adjacent to Death Valley. I camped for the next few days at the far northeast end of the South Panamint Dry Lake, a small wetland, grassland, dune system and mesquite bosque. The warm sulfur springs of this desert oasis provide habitat for frogs, shore birds, marsh hawks, and wild burros. A short-eared owl visited my campsite each evening at dusk. The stars bathed the cold desert in a warm glow. Few things are more serene than the deep stillness of the desert on a starry night. In that stillness, I am reborn, forever changed.

Oh, how I love vagabonding. Shamanism is deeply rooted in Nature and a nomadic lifestyle. The emphasis is on the individual, of breaking free and discovering one's own uniqueness in order to bring something new back to the group. Like drumming, nomadic wandering alters your ordinary everyday awareness. It is another means of habitual pattern disruption for reimprinting on alternate realties. When you leave home, meet new people, experience new stimuli, and process new information, you're soon intoxicated on a natural high. As Ed Buryn, the godfather of modern vagabonding puts it, "Vagabonding is nothing less than reality transformation, and its power is not to be underestimated."

Winona LaDuke: Native Environmentalism

I had the opportunity to meet Winona LaDuke and hear her speak at a conference years ago. LaDuke is a renowned Anishinaabe environmentalist, economist, writer and past two time vice-presidential candidate (with Ralph Nader), known for her work on tribal land claims and preservation, as well as women's rights. She is from the Makwa Dodaem (Bear Clan) of the White Earth Reservation in northern Minnesota. LaDuke was raised in Ashland Oregon, the daughter of Betty Bernstein and Vincent (Sun Bear) LaDuke. Her Anishinaabe father worked as an actor in Hollywood in supporting roles in Western movies before establishing himself as an author and spiritual leader in the 1980's. Her mother is an artist and writer who has gained an international reputation for her murals, paintings and sketches.

LaDuke attended Harvard University, Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Antioch University. She has testified at the United Nations, U.S. Congress, state hearings, and is an expert witness on economics and the environment. She advocates primarily for the protection of the environment and the rights of women. In 1985, LaDuke helped found the Indigenous Women's Network. She worked with the Native organization Women of All Red Nations to publicize American forced sterilization of Native American women. In 1989, LaDuke founded the White Earth Land Recovery Project in Minnesota with the proceeds of a human rights award from Reebok. The goal is to buy back land in the White Earth Indian Reservation that non-Natives bought and to create enterprises that provide work to Anishinaabe.

LaDuke is humorous, enlightening and above all political. She speaks with a Native voice without altering her language for non-Natives. Her words differ from establishment thinking and offer new ways of understanding the world and the solutions we need for the great issues of climate change. She conveys a beautiful and daring vision of political, spiritual and ecological transformation. LaDuke spoke at length about Native environmental issues and challenges. Despite making up a tiny fraction of the world's population, Indigenous peoples hold ancestral rights to some 65 percent of the planet. This poignant fact conveys the enormous role that Native peoples play not only as environmental stewards, but as political actors on the global stage.
 

All over the world, Native peoples are engaged in battles with hostile corporations and governments that claim the right to set aside small reserves for Native people, and then to seize the rest of their traditional territory. They are confronting the destructive practices of industry and leading the charge against climate change, while defending the rivers, forests and food systems that we all depend on. At the same time, they are blocking governments from eroding basic rights and freedoms and turning to the courts of the world to remedy over 500 years of historical wrongs. Native peoples are putting their lives on the line and fighting back for political autonomy and land rights. And all the while, they are breathing new life into the biocultural heritage that has the potential to sustain the entire human race.
 

Native Americans often articulate alternative environmental perspectives and relationships to the natural world. Indigenous mythologies and oral traditions express a non-anthropocentric environmental ethic. Indigenous groups offer ancient tried-and-tested knowledge and wisdom based on their own locally developed practices of resource use. And, as Native peoples themselves have insisted for centuries, they often understand and exhibit a holistic, interconnected and interdependent relationship to particular landscapes and to the totality of life, animate and inanimate, found there.
 

Perhaps the most important aspect of Indigenous cosmology is the conception of creation as a living process, resulting in a living universe in which a kinship exists between all things. Thus the Mother Earth is a living being, as are the Sun, Stars and the Moon. Hence the Creators are our family, our Grandparents or Parents, and all of their creations are children who are also our relations.

LaDuke captured the essence of this concept when she said: "Native American teachings describe the relations all around--animals, fish, trees, and rocks--as our brothers, sisters, uncles, and grandpas...These relations are honored in ceremony, song, story, and life that keep relations close--to buffalo, sturgeon, salmon, turtles, bears, wolves, and panthers. These are our older relatives--the ones who came before and taught us how to live."
 

The industrialized West is largely unaware of how Indigenous societies have functioned, and the strengths they possess that industrial cultures have lacked. Our notions of progress are based on the idea that high tech means better and that industrial cultures are somehow more advanced socially. The current state of our threatened environment demands that communication channels be opened for dialogue and engagement with Native environmental ethics.  
 

When describing Indigenous environmental activism, LaDuke said, "Grassroots and land-based struggles characterize most of Native environmentalism. We are nations of people with distinct land areas, and our leadership and direction emerge from the land up." Each nation and community has its own unique cultural traditions linked to the land. 

LaDuke detailed how different groups of Native people are contending with environmental issues and are seeking to address them at the local, community level. They are also forming national and international organizations that seek to help individual nations, in large part through information sharing and technical assistance. In the final analysis, however, each nation, reserve, or community has to confront its own issues and develop its own leadership. This must be stressed over and over again: each sovereign Native nation will deal with its own environmental issues in its own way. There is no single Native American government that can develop a collective Indigenous response to the crisis we all face.

LaDuke emphasized that the environmental awareness of many Native American groups translates into a high level of respect for women in their communities. A good deal of evidence has shown that when women have high status, education, and choices, they tend to greatly enrich a community and to stabilize population growth. Many traditional American societies have been able to maintain balance with their environments because of the high status of women, a long period of nursing for infants, and/or the control of reproductive decisions by women. Many of the leaders in the Native struggle today are women.

LaDuke pointed out that respect and humility form the foundation of Native lifeways, since they not only lead to minimal exploitation of other living things but also preclude the arrogance of colonial missionary activity, secular imperialism, and the oppressive patriarchy. She noted that: "In each deliberation we consider the impact on the seventh generation from now. Everything we have today we inherited, we are very, very fortunate today that our ancestors were strong people. We’re very, very fortunate that our ancestors took care of this land so well. We also know that those who are not yet here are counting on us not to mess this up…they’re counting on us to make sure that there will be water for them to drink, that there will still be fish, that the air will not be so poisoned or so hot that they cannot live."
 

Native people are not only trying to clean up uranium tailings, purify polluted water, and mount opposition to fossil fuel extraction; they are also continuing their spiritual ways of seeking to celebrate and support all life by means of ceremonies and prayers. As LaDuke told us in closing: "In our communities, Native environmentalists sing centuries-old songs to renew life, to give thanks for the strawberries, to call home fish, and to thank Mother Earth for her blessings."

Malidoma Patrice Somé: Nature, Ritual and Community

Malidoma Patrice Somé is an author, teacher and shaman from the Dagara tribe in West Africa. Somé holds three Master's degrees and two Doctorates from the Sorbonne and Brandeis University. Representing his village in Burkina Faso, West Africa, Somé has come to the West to share the ancient wisdom and practices which have supported his people for thousands of years. He travels throughout the world bringing a message of hope, healing and reconciliation through the powerful tools of ritual and community building. Versed in the languages of psychology, comparative literature, as well as ancient mythology, healing, and divination, Somé bridges paths between the ancient tribal world of the West African Dagara culture and modern Western society. Over the years, he has come to understand that, despite their differences, Indigenous and Western peoples are actually children of the same Spirit, living in the same house they call Earth. 

 

Born in a Dagara community in 1956, he was abducted from his people at the age of four by a Jesuit priest and imprisoned in a seminary built for training a new generation of black Catholic priests. In spite of his isolation from his tribe and his village, Somé stubbornly refused to forget where he had come from and who he was. Finally, some 16 years later, Somé fled the seminary and walked 125 miles through the dense jungle back to his own people, the Dagara. Once he was home, however, many there regarded him as a "white black," to be looked on with suspicion because he had been contaminated by the "sickness" of the colonial world. Somé was a man of two worlds, at home in neither.
 

His only hope of reconnection with his people was to undergo the harrowing Dagara month-long initiation in the wilderness. Elders from the village believed that Somé's ancestral spirit had withdrawn from his body and that he had already undergone a type of rite of passage into manhood in the white world. Despite this, they agreed to let him undergo a belated manhood rite with a younger group in the tribe. Having been raised outside of the culture and not speaking the language made the initiation process, believed to unite soul and body, more dangerous for him than for the youths also undergoing the rite. Somé emerged from this ancient ritual a newly integrated individual, rejoined to his ancestral past and his cultural present. Even after initiation, however, Somé remains a man of two worlds, charged by his elders to bridge his culture and the Western world.
 

I had the opportunity to take one of Somé's workshops years ago. In his workshops, Somé tells participants that the Dagara believe each person is born with a destiny, and he or she is given a name that reflects that destiny. "My name is Malidoma," he says. "It means he who makes friends with the stranger. As my name implies, I am here in the West to tell the world about my people in any way I can, and to take back to my people the knowledge I gain about this world. My elders are convinced that the West is as endangered as the Indigenous cultures it has decimated in the name of colonialism. Western civilization is suffering from a great sickness of the soul. The West's progressive turning away from functioning spiritual values; its total disregard for the environment and natural resources; the violence of inner cities with their problems of poverty, drugs and crime; spiraling unemployment and economic disarray; and growing intolerance toward people of color and the values of other cultures—all of these trends, if unchecked, will eventually bring about terrible self-destruction. In the face of all this global chaos, the only possible hope is self-transformation through ritual."
 

Somé leads workshop participants in ritual drumming and singing. He shares ways to create community as well as ritual ways that activate the healing powers of nature. He says that in Dagara society, all healing is accomplished in ritual through nature, and the participation of the village community. Nature is the landscape in which all healing takes place and it's the environment in which we renew ourselves and become whole, experiencing a sense of well-being. From an Indigenous perspective, the individual psyche can only be healed by addressing one's relationships with the visible worlds of nature and community and one's relationship with the invisible forces of the ancestors and spirit allies. That is why the art of ritual is so important, for it's in ritual that nature, community and the spirit world come together in healing.   
 

In modern times, we've lost our natural tendency to function communally by embracing such thinking as "pull one's self up by one's bootstraps" and "every man for himself." Yet only with community is a person's life purpose discovered, nurtured, and most importantly, required to sustain community. Healing through ritual nourishes our spirits and our psyches. It heals the deep wounds in us that are unseen and unspoken. Ritual offers us a deeper healing solution to complex dilemmas that plague modern life, those problems that lie beneath the surface, waiting to erupt. Somé focuses on the need for grief ritual and ways of working with emotion in Western culture. The ritual of grieving, the sacred shedding of tears to heal the wounds of human losses, is a cleansing practice that purifies the psyche. Somé likened the danger of unexpressed grief to a social time bomb.
 

Somé emphasizes that, "for the Dagara, ritual is, above all else, the yardstick by which people measure their state of connection with the hidden ancestral realm, with which the entire community is genetically bound. In a way, the Dagara think of themselves as a projection of the spirit world. The abandonment of ritual can be devastating. From the spiritual viewpoint, ritual is inevitable and necessary if one is to live. Where ritual is absent, the young ones are restless or violent, there are no real elders, and the grownups are bewildered. The future is dim."
 

Somé is optimistic when he says, "At this critical time in history, the Earth's people are awakening to a deep need for global healing. African wisdom, so long held secret, is being called on to provide tools to enable us to move into a more peaceful and empowered way of being, both within ourselves, and within our communities. The Indigenous spirit in each of us is calling for cleansing and reconciliation. The ancestors are responding."