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porcupine
USA
193 Posts |
 Posted - Dec 31 2008 : 10:33:53 PM
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shamans are tricksters, they will make nothing into something and keep you in the drama of life it is shamans who are the dreamers of existence. 'it is like the top of your head, the first thought and impulse, it originates from nowhere, this nowhere is the shaman and yet it is nothing. Through stories and ideas of less and more and good and bad, and words they keep a soul trapped in samsara, the world of maya. Lose the shaman nature, and reality unfolds, but how does one lose something before a notion of anything occurs?
It is not necessary to think of a shaman as good or bad, we are all shamans in every moment of our lives. To let oneself go and flow like water into the path of wu lei which is a phrase I made up to mean the path that things have formed in your life. Pick any one instance and follow 'where the wind takes you' figuratively and find out. Stories come out of nowhere, patterns are apparent over time.
So really to shamanize has to do with the organization of random energies into cognizant forms or thoughts, which are basically subtle forms.
When one takes the role of that first voice, and sees that there is no definite form, thoughts are created which lead into dreams, where stories arise.
Shamans invented the essence of love and hate and all concepts, and use them in the world of the mind to create changes in the psyche that affect outer life because outer and inner are one.
but it revolves around nothing, emptiness... the forces of will are external, while the energy or true self is total emptiness, like the tao. I will be in large places with many people and realize suddenly I am not being myself at all, I've subconsciously been conforming to thoughts of those around me, one of being a human, of going about some activity. This is me in that it is here, but it is impermanent. You could pay me 50 dollars to learn about this.
This is a shaman's trick, who would you be paying 50 dollars to? Yourself? Somehow your money is gone, and you were already a shaman all along (and also already home), and probably a little more selfless (free of thought conception) before this event.
One begins to laugh at thinking of it, why? Why would someone even choose to continue down this path? What does it lead to, its an endless repitition, life like piano lessons, or a mantra, again, the stories of the shaman, images drawn by the shaman from nowhere. Yet it remains.
Even by thinking 'mystic', all becomes more mystical, yet all things have their opposites, a decline for every rise, a start for every stop. Even just by thinking of God at all times, one will begin to come up with different names for God until we think just the same as before we even knew God existed or cared. It becomes kind of a crutch to only see sacredness in the form of 'sacredness'. But I could be talking about donkey culture, this could be the next step towards your dreams becoming real.
From my use of psychedelics I've learned that when you're trying to get somewhere, usually you will get ****ed up on the way many times, this is the way of the shaman. We don't even know what it is we want.. because there is no point in getting it, we are already dead. It would still be nice to get a few things however, because theres afterlife, after all. But after dying and living nothing is gained, and so one would logically say there is no point. Maybe the role of the shaman is necessary but beyond logic. After all logic is only a small portion of life. Look at scenes and forget 'look at scenes' and forget objects. You trying to learn to meditate? Quite wasting time. And wax your ears?
did you want to learn what deers eat?
well what does this mean?
deers, the most important race in this play, they have the ability to hear the world in their ears, they live on a totally different dimension than us.
Really shamanism has more to do with going within yourself, and seeing beyond outward validation and appearances to focus on certain aspects of reality which is infinite and includes all possibilities. In this way shamans communicate with spirits who may become more visible and active in their influence immediately or over time, to the point of getting outside validation. Usually spirits become stronger by thinking about them and acknowledging their presence, or talking about them to others.
Some spirits in my life play the same role as a living person, and in many cases have acted out in the form of living people. But in a world that is always changing it is hard to know what this means.
When talking about this stuff though, one must fight through the skepticism, that sometimes seems to come from within. Nothing is truly real, but these stories are as real as anything else one can experience, so realness looses meaning, and experience becomes key. The belief in a particular worldview makes it real enough to experience and nothing can truly be explained beyond that point.
Its like saying do 'the meditation'
or today we're going to 'go into the forest and look for berries'
or I've got 'stuff in my teeth'
none of this has said anything, and yet it is more, than before, nothing has been added yet there is more.
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Edited by - porcupine on Dec 31 2008 11:23:58 PM |
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CarsonZi
Canada
3189 Posts |
Posted - Jan 01 2009 : 06:01:03 AM
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Hi Porcupine,
Have you ever "Shamanism, Archaic Techniques of Ecstacy" by Mircea Elide or "Supernatural" by Graham Hancock?
Love,
Carson |
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porcupine
USA
193 Posts |
Posted - Jan 01 2009 : 10:01:02 AM
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Maybe, I found one book called 'Shamanism" in my friend's basement one day, it had a lot of stuff about death, dismemberment and dying, having strange notions, visiting other worlds with no account of how or why, and the role of the returning shaman in various communities, how its an inherited role or possibly could be learned. Reading it, I remember thinking this is just a bunch of academic jargon, but like Don Juan, I guess its more of a matter of taking in the knowledge over time, there are all different kinds of shamans too, some who wear no clothes, some who eat dead corpses, some who take the role of another gender. I'm sure doing these things, many people would believe you were a shaman because they are powerful actions, it jogs a memory maybe in the subconscious memory? To go that far into another culture is shamanic action. See how you are changed fundamentally in doing these things, its like you've crossed into another world even if the call is a book.. what could have really been drawing you to eat a dead corpse or wear a dress, simple words on a page or is this just something a long time coming?
In the long run, I think its more important to lose your head a few times in whatever way possible, be totally alone and abandoned, be at the place of no empathy, go insane where you can really begin to think for yourself and develop your own ways, not influenced by others, then return. In this way, depending on the clearness of your communications, the old world you inhabited will change, becoming more like the world you had found. Really its not neccesary to even go on a journey, but to communicate, its unclear whether having actually experienced what you are talking about makes it easier to communicate. communication goes beyond words
No book will help you at all if you read them at times when you are blind.
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porcupine
USA
193 Posts |
Posted - Jan 02 2009 : 03:03:14 AM
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ganja, morning glories, psilocybin, datura, ayahuasca
hawaiian baby woodrose salvia
lsd dmt
love ecstatic feeling love
the world
sage a magic jacket with everything on it peppermint
mugwort mugwort mugwort mugwort mugwort mugwort
new years, all night... sunrise, sky, colors, directions
staff, old and new, ayurveda, gurus... morning glories
sun salutation (simple waving to the sun)
following
psilocybin, (original fool) (chaotic good) datura (good)
alchemy, relationships
peace, namaste, roots, uprooted on its own.. |
Edited by - porcupine on Jan 02 2009 08:41:47 AM |
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porcupine
USA
193 Posts |
Posted - Jan 03 2009 : 12:42:56 PM
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we just carry messages
have long arms and high tails  |
Edited by - porcupine on Jan 03 2009 1:19:35 PM |
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porcupine
USA
193 Posts |
Posted - Jan 09 2009 : 02:01:08 AM
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dont tell me what to do
everything happens and thats the way it is |
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porcupine
USA
193 Posts |
Posted - Jan 15 2009 : 08:37:59 AM
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Dreaming, waking up so many times with a thirst. I'm thirsting, as is the entire world perhaps, for a change. It is in the way my headphones make tiny noises on the train, it is in the few showers I take, and the general devotional apathy that is my soap sud. True the people of this fair land, looking out once and again into one anothers back window, what can we truly know? In the air is suspicion, giving way to the wildest inspiration. 'Other people are cops' was my philosophy. Cops with unfair laws who harass instinctively. I ride my bike down to the park, listen to the flowing of the river my good friend and I know that, it was no joke, he who stood on the side of the fence so many years ago and said 'I know you have it in you'. He could not have been a cop, was it all just paranoia after all? Probably, which is the rush inherent in life? God permeates even the peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my basement, and its been cooling lately. Everythings been cooling in the season change but we keep on grooving. The names have changed but essentially we have stayed the same, as a planet, going through hard times maybe, telling those sadder stories, because its winter and thats the name of the game. Cool cats discussing catnip dreams.
But last night I dreamt I had that fire. I was burning deep inside like the summer time, all over my body as I had resigned myself to death. My life was over as far as I was concerned, I had taken a long train ride in a psychedelisized state, I had been ****ed up by the collective consciousness. All in all, it was pretty fun. It was a powerful lesson, as the boat rocked and I read the diamond sutra passively, but it never tipped over. My pants were ripped in the back because I was going to the punk rock show, though judgement had apparently failed me, the rip was too intense, too deep and bordered dangerously the line between punk and prostitution. But really two noble arts in their own right, and two very old traditions, so why fret? This world of inexplicabilities takes all types, equally ridiculous, and equally stoned. I say this on a quickly sobering morning, running from the crowds of condensation to the plane of solitude. Then we came out from underground and I saw the sky again, remembered at least I've got my relative health. I got off the train and found my mat in my bag, managed to do it around me like a skirt, walking through the streets singing and loving. But once I get to the venue, they say 'show is tommorow'. I laid under a tree for a while, and began the way home.
This time the subway was a den of love, such a great spirit occupied that place as I sat in my mat and drew little sketches in my handy green notebook. Sao Paolo, te amo, I said, blasting off in a shuttle to a space full of stuff, or empty. Though ultimately alone, there was no loneliness, looking around we all understood/loved eachother perfectly. I was she. Somebody listened to deceptaton on headphones.
Earlier that day I'd been walking around seeing many friends, we had discussed our woes and our current situation and had come to a peaceful state. The distrust was apparent in this new place though, could it have been because of my clothes? Perhaps. I remember a dream where I was inside of the bong, a nug a ganja myself roasting under the magnified sunrays of some master stoner while I puffed away on my own piece. How ironic that it was smoking weed who in turn was smoking weed and the proportions growing on and on into infinity. The smallest bong, the largest wonder in each toke. These are the politics of getting high. Dare I say to the outsider perhaps merely an act of self degradation, the paranoia the exists on the outer layers and then dissolves at the center to be replaced by the most intense and direct understanding of the universe itself. There are places that ganja has taken me that I never would have even imagined. But to reach the center is an epic journey in itself, and sometimese it is not attainable even two bowls in, because its not the right time, the vibe is off and one is left on the outer shores, trailing fingers in the tides. Much goes into blazing apart from the obvious, packing, lighting and inhaling. The natural smoke stacks of our youth.
Walking up the tunnel and into the light outside, I found myself quickly adrift in what seemed to be another's mind, this world so small, trekking along the amazon river, hopping from stone to stone and where they were scarce hanging to tree roots on the side. I stopped a long time feeling like a sadhu, arms suspended in a tight spot on a ledge over water. In truth I was resting because there was nothing to do, there was no place to go, what moment can be cast off? As the minutemen say, 'what gift can be the work of art?'. Nonchalantly, the whole witch doctor, man persona fell away, I just looked into the water, tao or whatever. Ripples expanded. I waited.
The thin branches I had broken seemed not to mind much, they accepted me into nature, for we are all one and as we see it that way and enter the woodlands with respect, losing our comfortable squareness we find another kind of family. A quiet conversation in the way the wind blows through the leaves. There is truly no conflict. I thought of the ancient indians with their homes on their backs, they too used the squares to some effect, but balanced and sensing the connection between them and the 'chaos' from which human beings have sprung, the chaos that we understand in ourselves as orderly but outside as rg0a8rhg.
I walked through the door of my home. Feet wet from river walking. Having learned something. I guess.
Really just any conversation could have done it, I now understood what my friends were talking about, I think. And who cares who wins anyways, its just light going into light.
Yeah, at first the body load is beyond intense, but over repeated use it diminishes greatly, and at first I've always considered the blind desperation that comes with trying to flow with the intense nausea and feeling of dying to be incredibly powerful and healing, say the next day, when one realizes he's saved the world and is on some intergalactic peace keeping thing, the universe and all things are indeed well again. You can get to thinking some really far out stuff and taking it very seriously, this is good and eventually with some luck it comes to a point of balance where both worlds are percievable so you don't seem totally crazy, then its time to go out and talk to some people. Usually.
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porcupine
USA
193 Posts |
Posted - Jan 24 2009 : 9:33:48 PM
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deep down, being a shaman is the desire to die, its not even the desire, you can't die if you have desire, its justs apathy towards life, which is actually death
its when someone should have dead
but they didn't
so they have their feet in both worlds
in purgatory some would call it
they can hear echoes as if they were dead, of their past life
your neck hanging by a thread? why not end it completely?
ever go to a funeral? the truth.. seeps in slowly into your life
maybe you did actually die? maybe this is heaven
everything was explained, everything made so much sense
but in this world of life so much is refused, there are a lot of people with a lot of beliefs
and it could be anyway
but having died, everyone is set in their last thoughts
that is their absolute truth
but what is that even?
we are already dead, but the story goes on
is this hell? how many times has this happened? is desire the cause of it?
of life?
but then I see, everyone who dies, how they become a part of me, or a part of everything..
it is recognizable.
Sham'ans intoxicate themselves into a frenzy of divine inspiration to go into the nether realms where the hell gates and the heaven gates stare wide open at us but we don't really go through either.
life is just a funeral and i see everybody at the end gates being like I wish it was me
so I just tried cross dressing and transgender because those were things i really wanted to do and things i hid in the world for other people.. i was just wanting to die, but not wanting to hurt myself
so i guess this is the proverbial 3 blunts of the best weed ever and a bag of shrooms..
tell those ayahuasca dudes i didnt say anything
because thats what life is... life is like some dude is killing you
and he's like is there any sh*t you wanna do because you're about to die
and he's a good guy, he respects whats happening so you can say whatever you want
and he does it, thats why you get what you want truly and deeply inside, the honest truth
maybe some people would say not what you want but what you need
and then you move on, ****ing a
"thats why it always seems like people are talking about sex.. life is sex, on an acid trip.. i had thought that"
but I think there is a way to make life better, and that is stop judging between life and death and black and white and male and female and up and bown, and good and bad, and better and worse, this is the only way, but its always every way
and thats the thing, life is always gonna make you happy, that is its going to give you exactly what you want with no question because it is you and there is no difference, like you haven't even read more, you haven't even done anything more the words go on far beyond the page, thats what I wrote to my friend once, and he was like, you haven't done anything more, you've just said that you did a bunch of sh*t. yeah.. that is the case.
and its like i look at people and myself of all ages and see childishness every action is premature and for no ultimate reason, you know what that is? that is stupid people. that is people who just want to do things and not think, those are the ghosts, the dead body that is still falling to the ground, the jnani, whatever. end that, be totally at peace.
while you wait, have compassion |
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Shamanism
