Neolithic Shamanism: Spirit Work in the Norse Tradition - Raven Kaldera 2012

Bear
The Brown World: Animals

Galina: I have a strong ancestral connection to Bear. Bear is a berserker’s animal. She brings gifts of immense protective power, well-channeled force, and groundedness of purpose. Bear can be savage about protecting territory (and that includes those in her realm for whom she is responsible), but can also teach one to live in harmony with the environment. Bear is not aggressive in the same way that Boar can be, but she is fierce in protecting her boundaries. I have found that Bear spirit can travel safely to the Underworld and back, perhaps because of her connection to the berserkergang, the berserk warriors of the ancient Norse. Bear holds the wisdom of how to nurture and care for one’s tribe, how to ensure the continuity of a tradition, and how to sustain oneself in the harshest of climates. She is a powerful and very sacred guardian.

Here we come to the predator, the top of the food chain. More specifically, bear is the predator that can stand upright and walk for short periods like humans. Many northern Eurasian cultures saw bear as being the “older brother” of humans for that reason; because there are no lions in that region, bear is the king of the beasts—or the queen, in some traditions. The earliest known sacred place of worship was a cave full of deliberately arranged cave bear skulls, created during the Neanderthal era of the Ice Age. The cult of bear worship among Northern peoples—the Saami, the Finns, the Siberian tribes, the Ainu, the Tlingit, and more—seems to be a remnant of the same Magdalenian-period Paleolithic cult from twenty thousand years ago.

The Saami people of arctic Europe once had special rituals for hunting bears, largely to placate the powerful Bear spirit and keep her from exacting revenge on the tribe that had taken the body of one of her children. As with many of the circumpolar bear cults, the Saami believed that Bear was a mediator between humans and other spirits. Bears were hunted during their winter hibernation, but always awakened to be killed, as killing them in their sleep was considered dishonorable. After a bear was killed—assuming that it was successful—the hunter of the bear had to pass through many rituals to make him safe to be in the village. Birch saplings were twisted to create a ring, and this was placed in the bear’s dead jaws until it was butchered, at which point the ring was decorated with brass chain and the bear’s tail. Women spat birchbark juice into the killer’s face. No one could look him in the eye except through the special ring. Only the hunters could butcher and cook the body, and no one else could go near it until it was ready to eat. A speech of apology was given to the bear before the feast began, and afterward the ring was buried with the bear’s tail and bones in a sacred place. Finally, the skin was laid over a stump, and the women of the tribe shot arrows at it blindfolded in order to make themselves safe from the spirit who their husbands had disturbed.

In ancient Norse culture, certain special warriors dedicated to Odin were the berserkers, whose name comes from bersark, or bearskin, which they wore to make themselves magically invulnerable. The berserkers called upon the spirit of Bear to go into an altered state in which they did not feel pain and could keep fighting, roaring at the top of their lungs, until they were finally hewn down. Similar to this, one of the six impossible things used to bind the divine wolf Fenris was “the nerves of a bear,” implying that bears were impervious to pain and attack.

In personality, bears are reclusive and defend their dens, violently if necessary. The females defend their hunting territory and their cubs—whose most dangerous enemy isn’t other predators, but male bears. They prefer to hunt alone. Bears will abide each others’ company in pairs during mating season, but then they part until the cubs are weaned. Unlike wolves, which go mad without a pack and their place in it, bears are largely solitary and like it that way. Those for whom Bear is a primary ally may share this trait.

Bear does not take just anyone who shows up. There has to be some kind of affinity, and Bear is not impressed by people who think they’re tough and want a big, tough predator totem. (Relationships among the various animal totems are not always clear-cut. Even Bear gets out of the way for Skunk.) To woo Bear, you can start with honey. Yes, Bear really does like it that much—enough to track for miles and endure the swarm. Leave an offering of honey, and if you want to add something else, raw fish. The do some utiseta and see if you can make contact with Bear spirit.

If she comes, remember that predator totems are often very demanding. Some Siberian shamans have communicated this in notes taken down by scholars, reminding young would-be shamans that these often-glamorized animal spirits are, by their nature, not likely to be interested in much negotiation. We’ve found this to be true. If a promise is given and later reneged upon, unlike a nonpredator spirit, who will probably just withdraw its gifts, wander off, and never speak to you again, a predator totem may decide that it is within its rights to attack you or even your loved ones. If you want something from a predator spirit, be prepared to put a lot more work into placating it. Also, Bear is one of the spirits who traditionally initiates shamans. While any spirit can theoretically initiate someone if the situation is right for both spirit and human, Bear is specifically one of the major initiating spirits and may challenge shamanic practitioners who seek her out. Bear is a guardian. Just because she can be kind does not negate the ruthlessness with which she terminates any potential threat.

Exercise: Fishing with Bear

You’ll probably wonder why this exercise is about something as mundane as fishing with Bear. Why not attacking or rending or knocking down a tree? Two reasons: first, it’s best to forge a relationship with this spirit in gentler ways before you share her aggression, because the situation can quickly get out of hand—especially if you don’t have a lot of experience working with other animal spirits on a deep level. Bear herself may well be scornful of hidden agendas that center on self-aggrandizing fantasies of attacking people, and she may “arrange” for things to go wrong in order to teach you a lesson. She is more sympathetic to requests concerning food, which means survival and is more understandable. Second, the Fishing with Bear exercise is actually training for an advanced shamanic healing technique—which isn’t appropriate for this beginner’s book, but it won’t hurt anyone to learn it as groundwork.

For this exercise, you have to find a brook that runs no more than waist deep and contains fish. Ask your local hunting and fishing club about local rivers that have “runs” or swarms of fish, and when those occur. (In other words, do your homework and make the effort to go out of your way to find the right place and time, even if it takes you a year or more. If you can’t be bothered, you don’t have the patience for this job.) Lay an offering to Bear on the bank, and ask for her aid. Wade into the brook and make sure that it does not knock you off your feet. Then ask Bear to come into your hands, arms, and reflexes. When Bear fishes, she sees the twinkling of the fish and then strikes like lightning, slapping her paws together and catching the fish between them. Then she throws it on the bank to die and goes for another one. (You might want to have an assistant with a bucket on the bank to collect any fish that get tossed.)

If it works—if you are able to concentrate and hold the parts of Bear that she allows you—and you actually get a fish out of it, don’t waste it. Cook it up and eat it. Discard any noncookable parts in a raw pile for Bear with some honey, and when you eat the cooked fish, invite Bear to taste it through your mouth. She’s fine with cooked fish, and she did help you catch it, after all.