High Magick: A Guide to the Spiritual Practices That Saved My Life on Death Row - Damien Echols 2018

Urban Shamanism
Final Thoughts

People lump all types of indigenous practices together under the umbrella of shamanism, which is, of course, inaccurate. Technically, shamanism describes some of the spiritual practices native to Siberia, but we use the term now to refer to all sorts of magico-religious traditions around the world, from Australasia to the North Pole. My point here isn’t to get into the cultural appropriation debate but to address some of the ways that particular aspects of shamanism and magick intersect. So, to be clear, when I’m talking about shamanism here, I’m using the word as a kind of shorthand to refer to one of the first forms of magick practiced by humans: working with the energy of intelligences other than those typically associated with living people — crow, coyote, tribal ancestors, archangels, protector spirits, and everything in between.

Everything in existence is made from the same divine substance.

Everything is made of energy, and everything that is made of energy has an aura. When people talk about spirits, they typically think of otherworldly beings or energetic patterns somehow related to humans and animals. Another way of looking at it is that spirits are subtle aspects of auras, which means that we can communicate with almost any spirit on the material plane to effect desired change.

For some cultures and a great number of people around the world, natural environments are considered a lot more spiritual than urban settings. Some people think that forests are more holy than cities (the Druids certainly did), and that’s fine. As with my discussion on magickal implements, if connecting with trees and the spirits that inhabit places far away from the din of the big city helps you, that’s great. However, it’s important to never forget that everything in existence is made from the same divine substance. If you think that magick can only flourish in isolated groves or private parks, you’ll miss out, because cities are just as full of sacred energy. What I want to convey here is that if you interact with a given place as if it were sentient and intelligent, you’ll find that it will respond accordingly, and this holds true no matter where you are. You can use this principle regularly in your daily life, imbuing seemingly mundane actions with magick: walking down the street, hailing a cab, or entering a building.

I live in New York City, one of the most populated and busiest places in the world. For someone like me, trying to summon the aid and wisdom of coyote and bear doesn’t work very well, and attempting to apply shamanic techniques like that has little effect. Above all, I aim for my magick to be practical, so the energies I work with must have a notable connection and impact on my daily life. The intelligences I communicate with are the spirits of the trains in the subway system, the angels who preside over the various streets and avenues, and the overall sentience associated with the city itself. Ancient cultures around the world (Greek and Tibetan, to name just a couple) believed that certain spirits, energies, or gods watched over particular cities and even individual homes in those places. People made a point to make offerings to these deities — candles, incense, coins, food, and so on — and I have adopted this practice to my life in New York.

I’ve found that in addition to the city as a whole, the various boroughs and neighborhoods have identifiable energies particular to each. For example, before I leave my home to go somewhere, I do a short evocation for the intelligence (angel, spirit, or whatever you want to call it) that presides over Harlem. I ask it to show me favor, to watch out for me, to exchange energy and information with me, to help me become an integrated part of this sacred neighborhood, and to allow me to continue to grow and progress as a person and magician. And that’s just what it does.

I even apply this practice to the different subway trains I ride. I sometimes burn a candle for the A or C train, or I occasionally leave coins along the platform as an offering or gesture of appreciation. I evoke the spirits and ask them to make the train ride as quick and easy as possible, praying that no harm comes to anyone and that the journey benefits everyone. When I address a particular place like this and let it know that I consider it to be just as alive, aware, and intelligent as myself, it responds to me in kind.

This practice never fails me, and I highly recommend adopting it yourself. There are a number of reasons why certain places feel more energized or spiritual than others, but never forget that everything is divine. Imagine the impact on the world if more people thought so. When you get right down to the essence, no place is more or less sacred than anywhere else. Ideally, you’ll learn the same about where you live and visit, adopting whatever practices seem appropriate to the intelligence that’s always at hand.