Neolithic Shamanism: Spirit Work in the Norse Tradition - Raven Kaldera 2012
Seed
The Beginning Place: Earth
Raven: I have been a gardener since my grandmother first let me plant seeds in her garden. I keep a vegetable garden and an herb garden, and I never lose the excitement of seeing those first seedlings break soil in the spring. Really, it isn’t spring unless I plant seeds and watch them come up. A seedling is a child, a delicate child, and it is also one tiny part of a huge mind that is all the collected entities of that variety of plant, and on a larger scale, all plants. Look at a seed—whether it’s the large, sturdy scale of a pumpkin, the spiky ball of a beet, the powder that is chamomile. If you told someone who was alien to this planet that everything required to order the growth of a plant hundreds of times larger was in that tiny capsule—that you only had to add water and dirt and, eventually, some sunlight, would that entity believe you?
Galina: Prayer is essential; it truly is. It’s the lifeline for any mystic, shaman, or spirit worker. It has the potential not only to keep us going when the work becomes personally grueling, but also to to keep us clean and well connected. It teaches us humility and helps us find and maintain right relationship with the Holy Powers. Moreover, it is the best way to maintain those relationships in a healthy and mutually beneficial manner. At its core, it’s communication, after all, and just like any other relationship, the connections that we maintain with our Holy Powers should ideally be grounded in clear and consistent communication. If you want to work in this tradition and you do not have a relationship with a god, goddess, or family of deities, you should look into that. This work isn’t about you. It’s about being of use to beings far bigger, older, and greater than we will ever be. It’s about cultivating service-oriented spirituality, and nothing brings that home on a more fundamental level than prayer.
I am very fortunate. I was a priest long before I became a shaman, and I have had some very good mentors and teachers in my life, most notably my adopted mom. I learned about prayer very early on. Becoming a shaman or even a shamanic practitioner can be personally wrenching. Becoming a spirit worker is an immensely difficult endeavor. Sacrifices are necessary, and sometimes people are forced into growth without their consent. Prayer has the power to sustain us when everything else falls short. I pray every day. Sometimes I use formal prayers; more often, I talk to my Gods as though I am seeking out a wise and loving elder. This is the essence of a personal, intimate relationship: What could I ever be that the Gods do not already know? What could I ever say or do that would surprise them? They know us and cherish us despite ourselves. That can be immensely freeing when one begins to struggle to develop in relationship with the Holy Powers.
My prayer practice is the foundation of my work. It has carried me through when everything else in my life seemed as though it was turning, quite bluntly, to shit. I belong to a very challenging god (Odin), and he has pushed and honed me in ways that I often found terrifying. He demands complete vulnerability to his presence and power, and sometimes, as I grew into my relationship with him, I doubted my own ability to survive. Prayer carried me through. It’s the best gift you can ever give yourself. It should precede any other work.
While we will describe bonding with plant spirits in more depth in the Green World chapter, the best way to begin the process is to plant a seed and watch it be birthed into the world. However, seed growth is as much about Earth as it is about seed. (It is also, although less so, about water and the warmth of the Sun.) Since this chapter is about beginnings, the basic skills you will need to practice shamanic work in this tradition, we will be using the seed as a way to practice the art of prayer.
But, you say, isn’t that about religion? Perhaps you associate prayer with large houses of worship, and to pray under other circumstances makes you feel uncomfortable. Perhaps you feel uncomfortable with it no matter what, because you see it as supplication, as putting you in a lesser position than something else. Leaving aside the fact that this tradition acknowledges that there are many presences out there who are actually bigger and wiser than us, prayer is not limited to any one goal. It can be about asking for help, without any sense of entitlement, just sincere pleading. It can be about gratitude, thanking the Gods or spirits for all they do and all they have given us. It can be a special song for one spirit whom you have grown to love, made to express that emotion directly to him. It can be about praise, because what the Gods and spirits do is wonderful, and they like appreciation, and no shaman or shamanic practitioner should be too proud to give them their due. It can be about apologizing when you promise and fall down, when you err—and this, too, we should not be too proud to do, especially to those who see with vision that goes further than mortal eyes.
There is no shame in any of this, no lessening. There is no shame in being mortal in the face of the immortal. And beyond that, prayer is a part of what we do in this shamanic tradition, so now—as you begin—is a good time to get over any residual discomfort you have with praying, because you will not go down this road without it.
Praying can be spoken or silent—although most people find that vocalizing a prayer makes it more “real” for them. It can be sung or even danced. It can be any words that work. The Northern Tradition is especially fond of alliteration in poetry, because there is a power in alliteration that “locks” energy in (which we’ll explore in the White World chapter), but anything that rolls off your tongue will do. Ancient prayers often sound simplistic to our modern ears, “like children’s nursery rhymes,” one friend commented. They make your inner child sit up and listen, though, and for people who are stuck in their “monkey mind,” obsessing about rent and jobs and last night’s date, sometimes enlisting the inner child can help. Simple rhythm changes mood and head space, and repetition slowly drives an idea deep into the subconscious over time.
Exercise: Praying the Seed
This one is easy, or at least the first part is. You just put a seed in dirt. Then you pray over it every day. Yes, really—pray over it. Your prayer should contain a blessing for the seed, some kind of gratitude to the Earth that sustains it, and—ideally, although this is optional—a statement of hope that something in your life will also spring forth and grow. While we encourage you to create your own prayer, here’s a possibility for those who are drawing a blank:
I lay a blessing on this seed
And may the Earth push it toward heaven.
May heaven’s blessing fall on the Earth,
Which sustains me and is the ground beneath my feet.
May Earth lay a blessing on me
That I may burst forth and grow like this seed.
We are all connected,
And my eyes are filled with wonder and gratitude.
What’s the point of this exercise? Many things. First, you are learning how to pray for a particular thing every single day for a time. Few people today have that experience—but it’s one that you will need to master in order to do shamanic work in this tradition. Second, you are practicing the art of realizing that everything is not only alive but also a person, an intelligence that is capable of sensing you and, in some cases, communicating. Third, you are relearning wonder, because part of your assignment is to see that seedling as a beautiful child that has sprung forth, a child with a destiny, even if it entails not living very long. Fourth, you are learning to get over any residual embarrassment you may have about talking to (or singing to or praying to) nonhuman things such as plants, stones, or the ground. You’d better get over that, because you are going to be doing a good deal of it in this tradition, and it’s best to learn now that what other humans think of it doesn’t matter.
When the seed has grown into a plant, transplant it outside if you’ve been growing it in a pot and then name it. Sit with it for a while and ask it what name it would like—don’t just pick something you think is cute, unless the seedling really has no preference. Then, when you see it again, say hello to it. When it dies (unless it is a tree who will outlive you), sing it a mourning song. Do not ever let yourself feel embarrassed. You are practicing creating allies and interacting appropriately with spirits.
Once you’ve done this exercise, the next step is to use what you’ve learned to create a regular prayer practice for yourself. Prayer is a celebration, a joyous outpouring of the reality of the deepest, innermost chambers of the heart. It forges connections, acknowledges kinship, and grounds us consciously in our spirituality. Even the most formulaic of prayers, like the dancer’s tendu and plié, form necessary building blocks to spiritual expression. In many respects, the comparison to the discipline of a dancer’s daily practice is quite apt. Prayer, as any mystic knows, is a discipline that trains the mind, heart, and spirit in attentiveness, mindfulness, and devotion to the Gods. Anyone can move to music, but very few people can suddenly, without any practice or training, put on a pair of pointe shoes and pull off a flawless Swan Lake. In many respects, it is the same with meditation and prayer—these things pattern the soul to the touch of the Gods in the same way daily ballet practice develops a kinetic memory in dancers. It provides structure, context, place, and an expansive vocabulary by which we can express those experiences of the spirit that often resist the clarification of language.
Additionally, prayer prepares us to encounter what Rudolf Otto, in his seminal work, The Idea of the Holy, called the mysterium tremendum et fascinans, the awesome and terrifying essence of divine presence. Prayer can teach you how to do that safely and well. So, in honor of seed, the gift of the Earth and its promise, commit to praying every day. Set up an altar to the Gods and spirits who call to you, or if no specific ones call to you, build it to the Universe and its greater powers, or to Nature itself. Light candles, make offerings, make it a living, physical place of invocation and welcome. Use it as a focal point to remind yourself each and every day of your place in the world. Use it as a place to center yourself and engage in the magnificent discipline of prayer.
If you are working with Norse or Germanic Gods as part of your practice, you’ll be building altars to them. If you are unsure of how to begin, we recommend Northern Tradition for the Solitary Practitioner, which we published through New Page Books. There is an extensive section just on prayer alone that talks about how to pray, why to pray, and how to do it well, as well as how to set up altars to the deities who are interested in you. In the end, it doesn’t matter how you do it, as long as you are doing it. Reach out and work hard at forming a connection to the Holy Powers, and nurture and nourish that connection with prayer. It is to the spirit what water is to the planted seed: nourishment and essential.