by Corby Ingold
featured in the Spring, 1991 edition of Shaman's Drum
A few years ago an acquaintance of mine, who knew of my involvement with shamanism and Native religions, attended a Northwest coast healing ceremony at my invitation. The ceremony consisted of smudging and prayers, drumming and singing traditional medicine songs, a period of intense spirit dancing to the rhythm of drums and rattles, and a time for sharing words, followed by a small feast. The focus of the ceremony was on healing, both ourselves and our Mother Earth.
My friend was a refined, idealistic woman who believed, at least in theory, in the "oneness of all religions." She had been involved in the study of metaphysics and New Age spirituality for a number of years and had expressed an attraction to the "beauty" of Native medicine ways. When I ran into her again about a week later, I asked her what her impressions of the ceremony had been, and her answer was interesting. She revealed to me that she had been repulsed by the vigorous trance dancing, which she described as "animalistic." In fact, she felt that she should warn me that I was getting into something "dangerous." She voiced a fear that synchronized drumming and repetitive chants had created a "cultlike" atmosphere, and she suggested our group had succumbed to "mass hypnosis."
As my friend discussed her feelings, her conversation kept coming back to the "animalistic" dancing, which seemed to both horrify and fascinate her. In a positive shamanic sense, the spirit dancing certainly had been animalistic; participants were imitating the movements and sounds of their guardian spirit powers, which are often animals. However, my friend had clearly used the term in a derogatory manner.
She went on to extol to me the virtues of a spiritual development system that she was currently following. It consisted of a series of essentially mentally reprogramming exercises that had been psychically "channelled" from an "extraterrestrial" spirit. These exercises were practiced by oneself, inside one's head, in the seclusion of one's own room. She recommended this system to me as being "more evolved" than the "primitive" teachings I was attempting to learn. She pointed out that her way didn't waste any time on external ceremonies and rituals, which she felt were "archaic and unnecessary." She also told me that she felt our concern for the Earth's ecology was excessive, declaring that if we can evolve our spiritual consciousness through the proper visualization exercises, we don't need to worry about the Earth.
Over the years, I have heard other people in the New Age metaphysical community express similar attitudes regarding Native medicine practices, sometimes in more subtle form, but often not. What saddens me most about these attitudes is the way these people seem to equate spirituality with transcending physical embodiment, as if contact with Earthly things will contaminate the spirit. Such views that set human beings apart from Earth and our fellow beings may involve an element of hubris, but I think in many cases the underlying emotion is fear - fear of our own bodies, of the life force, and of our wild nature. Fear of the physical has plagued Western civilization for at least two thousand years, so I'm not too surprised to see it turning up in the New Age movement. However, it should be remembered that fear of the physical and of physically expressed spirituality has played a major role in the often savage repression of Native American religions and spiritual ways.
According to Native American philosophies, everything - even the rocks and trees - breathes, or is breathed by, the One Life that animates all beings. Everything is a part of the Whole, and each being gives of itself to nourish the Whole, and receives nourishment in return. In the Northwest Coast traditions, we dance to give thanks for being thus nourished and supported.
In order to pray and give thanks in this way, we must become comfortable with the fact that we are, at least for the duration of time we spend on this planet, physical beings. One way we can humbly express our gratitude to the One Life is to exult in our physicalness. After all, what could be more suggestive of a great unifying principle in all of nature than the marvelous and alive physical structure in which we find ourselves embodied? The humble, uncomplicated acceptance of the basic processes of breath, digestion, lovemaking, and movement becomes the cornerstone of a life lived joyously in connection with Spirit. Each pleasurable moment in life becomes an occasion for offering thanks.
Because we are able to sense and feel what is outside us, as well as inside, we feel kinship with other beings that are likewise embodied - whether they are clothed in fins, or fur, or feathers. What better way to express this kinship with all than through the timeless rhythms of the spirit dance? Our dance is our prayer and our offering, a way of saying "thank you" to our Great Creator, to Mother Earth, and to our relations in the animal, vegetable, and mineral realms.
We now encounter a supreme paradox. Many participants in dancing ceremonies have reported out-of-body experiences which took place while they were dancing. In the process of affirming their physicalness and grounding their spirituality through ceremony and dance, they somehow free their spirits to soar beyond space and time on otherworld journeys. Through the vigorous movements of trance dancing, they discover that consciousness is not bound to one locale or dimension but indeed may journey forth into the depths of the underworld or to ethereal realms of transcendent beauty.
Although dancers may feel physically tired immediately after ceremonies, they often report long-term feelings of healing and integration that add a zest and sparkle to daily life. Sometimes they even bring back gifts of knowledge or power from their spiritual excursions that are of real help in their Earth plane existence. Such has been my experience and the experience of the brothers and sisters who are my fellow students on this path. It is a way that is open to all.
Corby's Writings: Pathways and Reflections
Ancient Wisdom, Modern Journeys
www.corbyingold.com
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