We now have the opportunity to carry forward an ancient and universal way of healing. The Native American teacher Sun Bear used to say, “If it don’t grow corn, I ain’t interested.” In my experience, shamanic work very much grows corn—lots of it—which is precisely what makes it so interesting. And, as noted earlier, it’s also a great opportunity to work through our fear of losing valuable Whiteness points by becoming adept at something that White people widely aren’t supposed to be able to do at all, by being either too deracinated or too “civilized.” Faking it might be okay, because that confirms stereotypes of Whiteness, but actually being able to do it? Like the knowledge in the marrow of our bones isn’t different from everyone else’s? Like we’re not the least bit special? Yikes!

One of my favorite things about shamanic communities I have known and loved is that they are mostly consciously nonhierarchical and small-“d” democratic: once you can journey, there’s no need for a guru figure. Once when I was attending a workshop led by Nan Moss and David Corbin, I had the great good luck to overhear David say to someone who had asked him a question, “That’s a really interesting question. Why don’t you journey on it?”

There are few, if any, religions in this world that don’t look to actual people who have gone before, or to personifications of natural forces—which are also manifestations of the Only Being—for help in one way or another. Of the many ancestors who are most interested in this work, some are our very own personal ancestors; others, as noted above, are whole groups of ancestors of all colors, creeds, and countries of national origin. Individually and collectively, all of us have somewhere in our heritage ancestors who are wise, loving, and more than willing to help.

And here a word about nomenclature. There’s no need to borrow any. In particular, many Native people very much do not like it when White people speak of a “spirit animal.” Specifically, as they say, it’s not your spirit animal. I’ve always felt put off by the term “power animal,” which was what I was originally taught—too much conjuring thoughts like, “My power animal will call your power animal, and they’ll do lunch.” A friend who has been doing shamanic work for years refers to all beings in nonordinary reality as “the Dudes.” I think of them as friends, companions, loving relations—familiars in many senses of the word. You can use whatever term best expresses your own relationship—because it’s really about a relationship—or no term at all. It’s nobody’s business but yours and your friends and relations in nonordinary reality. Your authentic experience is what makes your terminology authentic, not the other way around. They’re your dudes, not someone else’s.

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