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On 23 September, we reach the Autumn Equinox: a turning point in the year when day and night come close to balance and the long, expansive days of summer begin to give way to the darker months.
There is something unmistakable about this time of year. The quality of the light changes, mornings become cooler, fruits ripen, and leaves begin to change colour and fall from the trees. The natural world starts withdrawing its energy from outward growth.
To modern eyes, autumn can sometimes appear to be a season of decline. Yet nature does not treat autumn as a failure. It is simply another part of the cycle.
In the shamanic tradition in which I work, the Medicine Wheel offers a way of understanding these cycles, not only in nature but within our own lives. The wheel teaches us that there is a time for birth, a time for growth, a time for harvest and release, and a time for rest and renewal.
The Autumn Equinox brings us particularly into the medicine of the West: the place of harvest, sunset, pruning, release and preparation for winter.
But there is another aspect of the Medicine Wheel that I find especially helpful. We are not necessarily in the same season in every part of our lives.
The Medicine Wheel is a symbolic representation of the cycles through which life continually moves. In the tradition I was taught, the East corresponds with spring, sunrise, birth, planting seeds, setting intentions and new beginnings. It is the place of potential, when something new is brought into being and needs our care and attention.
The South corresponds with summer and growth towards maturity. The seed has germinated, and the plant is growing, flowering and producing buds and unripe fruit. This is the expansive part of the cycle, but discernment is still needed. Just as we weed a garden, we decide what deserves our continued energy and what needs to be removed so that something else can flourish.
The West corresponds with autumn and sunset. Here we reap what we have sown, gather what is valuable, store our reserves and begin pruning back what is no longer required. It is simultaneously a time of harvest and celebration and a time of preparing ourselves for winter.
Finally, the North corresponds with winter. This is the place of hibernation, healing, rest, rejuvenation and going within. Although there may appear to be stillness externally, internally another kind of growth is taking place. The ground is being prepared for the next spring.
We can see this wheel turning continuously in nature, but the same pattern also appears in our relationships, careers, creative work, personal healing and spiritual development.
One of the most useful things about the Medicine Wheel is that it allows us to ask a different question about our lives. Instead of immediately asking, What is wrong?, we can ask, What season am I in?
We can then go further and ask what season we are experiencing within each particular aspect of our lives, because our lives rarely move around the Medicine Wheel as a single unit.
We might be experiencing spring in our work because we have just begun a new project. At the same time, a relationship may be in summer: flourishing, deepening and asking to be nurtured. Another aspect of our lives might already have entered autumn, where we are beginning to recognise that something has given us everything it can and we need to decide what we wish to take from the experience before releasing it.
Somewhere else we might be in winter, requiring solitude, healing and rest. We can therefore be standing in several different places on the Medicine Wheel at the same time.
Recognising the season can change how we respond to what is happening. Many difficulties arise because we try to force something to remain in a season that has already passed. We try to keep harvesting from soil that needs to rest, attempt to make something flower before its roots are established, cling to autumn leaves when they are ready to fall, or immediately plant something new because we are frightened of the stillness of winter.
Nature does not make these mistakes. The tree does not demand that January resemble June.
Autumn belongs to the West on the Medicine Wheel, and its medicine is not simply about endings. It begins with harvest.
Before we decide what needs to leave our lives, the West invites us to recognise what has already been created. What have we grown this year? What has reached maturity? What have we learnt? Which relationships have nourished us? What challenges have revealed something important about ourselves? What have we achieved that we have barely paused to acknowledge?
In our culture, we can become so focused upon the next goal that we forget to harvest the one we have already reached. Autumn reminds us to stop and gather.
Autumn is both a time of celebration and feast and a time of preparation for the winter ahead. We take what nourishes us forward, and then we begin to prune.
Look at a tree in autumn. It does not attempt to save every leaf. The leaves have performed their purpose. Their work is complete. As the tree withdraws its energy, they change colour and eventually return to the earth. The tree remains.
There are times when healing asks us to do something similar. We may need to release an old agreement about ourselves, recognise that a pattern of behaviour which once protected us is now restricting us, or accept that a relationship has completed its cycle. An identity we once needed may no longer fit the person we are becoming. Sometimes we are simply carrying too much.
There is an important difference between rejecting the past and releasing it. The Medicine Wheel suggests that we first take the harvest. We gather the wisdom from an experience before deciding what we no longer need to carry.
Then we let the leaves fall.
In shamanic healing, I work with the deeper energetic and spiritual patterns underlying our experiences. This can include restoring lost life-force energy, clearing blockages and working with agreements and belief patterns that may continue to influence our behaviour long after the circumstances in which they developed have passed.
The Medicine Wheel can therefore offer a useful way of understanding healing itself. Sometimes healing requires the medicine of the East because something new needs to be born. At other times it requires the South because something new needs to be nurtured and strengthened. Sometimes we need the West because something must be harvested, understood and released. And sometimes we need the North because there is nothing more to do. We need to rest, integrate and allow healing to take place.
This can be particularly revealing when we consider our relationships. Some relationships are in spring: new, tentative and full of possibility. Others have reached summer and are growing into something deeper. But sometimes a relationship enters autumn.
That does not necessarily mean it must end. Autumn may simply mean that something within the relationship needs to be harvested, reassessed or pruned. Old ways of relating may need to change, agreements may need to be reconsidered, and boundaries may need to become clearer. Sometimes, however, the relationship itself has completed its natural cycle.
After a relationship has ended, there can be value in allowing ourselves to consider what worked, what did not and what our own behaviour contributed before planting the seeds of another relationship.
There is wisdom in not rushing straight back to spring.
The Autumn Equinox does not yet bring us fully into winter. It points towards it. Autumn is preparation.
The nights become longer, activity in the natural world begins to contract and energy moves away from outward growth. We begin travelling towards the medicine of the North.
Winter, in the Medicine Wheel, is associated with rest, healing, rejuvenation and going within. I particularly like to think of this as stillness on the outside with movement on the inside.
This is why I do not see our journey into the darker months as something inherently negative. Darkness has its own medicine. Seeds germinate beneath the soil, roots deepen underground, animals hibernate, and human beings dream. Things happen in darkness that cannot happen in full sunlight.
Stillness also has an important place within the Medicine Wheel. Stillness and balance work together. Through stillness we can find our centre, while greater balance allows us to become still.
The journey into darkness can therefore also be a journey towards ourselves.
One of my favourite images within the Medicine Wheel is what happens to the things we release. The fallen leaves eventually become compost, returning their nutrients to the earth and helping to create the fertile ground from which new life will emerge.
The ending becomes nourishment. Nothing needs to be wasted.
Even difficult periods of our lives can eventually become part of the soil from which something new emerges. The relationship that ended may teach us what we truly need from love. The career that collapsed may lead us towards work that is more aligned with who we have become. The boundary we finally learnt to establish may transform every relationship that follows.
The person we once were does not have to be erased. That person becomes part of the soil.
Around the Autumn Equinox, find somewhere quiet where you can sit undisturbed. If possible, go outside and spend some time with the land. You might light a candle, smudge your space, drum or simply sit quietly.
Draw a circle and divide it into four sections representing the four directions of the Medicine Wheel. In the East, consider what is beginning in your life and the seeds you are planting. In the South, consider what is already growing and deserves your continued care and energy.
When you reach the West, spend some time considering your harvest. What has this year given you? What wisdom can you take from your experiences? What has reached maturity? What needs pruning, and what are you ready to release?
Finally, turn to the North. Ask yourself what needs to rest. Where do you need healing, quietness or contemplation? Is there anything you are trying to solve immediately that might instead need time?
Then look at the whole wheel. You may discover that different areas of your life sit in completely different places. Allow that to be so.
Ask yourself one final question: Where am I trying to force something into a season that it is no longer in?
Do not rush to answer. Sometimes the most valuable part of the practice is simply becoming still enough to hear what we already know.
The Autumn Equinox reminds us that balance does not mean remaining unchanged. Natureâs balance is found through movement. Light becomes darkness and darkness eventually becomes light again. Spring becomes summer, summer becomes autumn, autumn becomes winter, and winter eventually returns us to spring.
Shamanism teaches us to recognise these natural rhythms and to bring ourselves back into right relationship with them. There will be times to plant and times to grow. There will be times to celebrate what we have created and times to prune and release. There will also be times when the wisest thing we can do is become quiet.
The tree does not mourn every falling leaf or mistake its bare branches for failure. It withdraws, rests and trusts the cycle.
Perhaps the invitation of the Autumn Equinox is to do the same: to recognise where we are on our own Medicine Wheel, honour the medicine of the season we have entered, and trust that the darkness is not the end of the journey.
It is part of the wheel.
If you are presently experiencing an ending, or feel that something in your life is ready to fall away, Shamanic Healing can support you through this period of transition.
Sometimes we know that an old relationship, behaviour, belief, agreement or way of being no longer serves us, yet we find it difficult to release the energetic patterns that keep us connected to it.
Through Shamanic Healing, we can work with what is ready to be cleared or released, restore lost life-force energy and create space for the next part of your cycle to emerge. Like the autumn tree, we do not need to know exactly what the next spring will bring before we allow the old leaves to fall.
If you feel that you have reached such a turning point in your own life, you can find out more about how I work and the Shamanic Healing sessions I offer here: https://www.roseautumn.com/shamanic-healing/
Every year on 12 September, Mindfulness Day invites us to stop for a moment and pay attention to the present. It sounds remarkably simple, yet how often are we truly present? We can be walking while thinking about where we are going, eating while looking at a screen, or listening to somebody while already preparing what we are going to say next. We can spend our mornings thinking about the afternoon and our evenings replaying something that happened years ago.
Our body may be here, but our awareness is somewhere else. Mindfulness is the practice of bringing ourselves back. From a shamanic perspective, however, I believe we can take this further. Becoming present is not simply about becoming more aware of ourselves. It can also be about becoming aware of the living world around us and remembering that we are part of the Web of Life.
The modern mindfulness movement has become associated with meditation, breathing exercises, stress reduction and wellbeing, but its roots are much older. The English word mindfulness has been used to translate the Buddhist concept of sati, although the meaning of the original term is richer and has been interpreted in different ways. It can encompass remembrance, attentiveness and a lucid awareness of present experience. Within Buddhist traditions, mindfulness forms part of a much wider spiritual and ethical practice rather than existing simply as a technique for relaxation.
At its simplest, mindfulness asks us to notice our breathing, our body and our thoughts without immediately becoming carried away by them. It also asks us to notice what is happening around us. There is something profoundly valuable in this simple act of paying attention, and it is here that mindfulness begins to overlap with something fundamental to shamanic practice: awareness.
Shamanism is rooted in an animistic understanding of the world. Animism recognises that we do not exist separately from nature. We are participants within a living world containing animals, plants, trees, rivers, mountains, stones, weather, landscape and spirit.
From this perspective, walking through a wood is not simply walking through scenery. The wood is alive around us. When we become quiet enough, our relationship with our surroundings begins to change. We hear the different layers of birdsong and notice the wind moving through the leaves. We feel changes in temperature as we move between sunlight and shade, and become conscious of the smell of damp earth, the texture of bark, the movement of insects and the changing shape of clouds. Things that were always there suddenly become visible because we have become present enough to notice them.
There is, however, an important difference between simply observing nature and approaching the natural world through an animistic consciousness. Modern mindfulness might invite us to sit beneath a tree and notice its bark, its leaves, the movement of its branches and the sensations arising within our own body. Shamanic awareness can invite us to go further, connecting with the tree’s spirit.
Instead of nature becoming the background against which we practise mindfulness, we begin to recognise ourselves as part of a relationship. The question changes from What can I get from spending time in nature? to What is here with me? It is a subtle but important shift. We stop placing ourselves at the centre of the experience and begin to listen.
Our modern lives are filled with noise. Phones ring, messages arrive, and notifications appear. Televisions, computers and radios fill quiet spaces, and even when the external noise stops, the internal conversation often continues. We think about what we need to do tomorrow, what somebody meant by something they said yesterday, what we should have done differently, or what might happen next.
Our attention moves continually between memory, anticipation and distraction. One of the gifts of mindfulness is the recognition that we do not have to follow every thought that passes through the mind. We can notice the thought, allow it to pass and return our attention to the breath, the body, the ground beneath our feet, the sounds around us and the present moment. The more we practise returning, the more we begin to discover how rarely we were completely present in the first place.
The body is one of the simplest ways of returning ourselves to the present. You cannot breathe yesterdayâs breath or feel tomorrowâs ground beneath your feet. The physical body exists here and now, which is why becoming conscious of physical sensation can provide such a powerful anchor.
We can feel our feet upon the earth, notice where our body touches the chair, become aware of our breathing without trying to control it and observe where we are holding tension. Rather than attempting to force the mind to become empty, we can simply allow our awareness to settle into the body. For me, this kind of embodied presence also has an important place within shamanic healing. Before we journey elsewhere, it is valuable to know where we are.
People sometimes imagine that meditation must take place in silence, but shamanic practice offers another possibility. The repetitive beat of the drum can become a focus for awareness. Instead of the mind jumping continually from thought to thought, our attention can begin to settle into the rhythm.
The drum occupies a particularly important place within my own shamanic practice. I use drumming as part of shamanic journeying, where the repetitive rhythm supports a movement away from ordinary everyday awareness and into another state of consciousness. This creates an interesting relationship between mindfulness and shamanic journeying.
Mindfulness can begin by bringing us completely into the present moment, while shamanic journeying can then involve intentionally directing awareness beyond our ordinary experience of that moment. The two practices are not the same, but presence can provide a powerful foundation for journeying. Before travelling, we become still. Before asking questions, we listen. Before seeking an answer, we make space in which an answer might be heard.
There is another reason why mindfulness interests me as a shamanic practitioner. Our awareness can become extraordinarily scattered. Part of us may be thinking about something that happened yesterday while another part is worrying about next week. We may be answering messages while eating, watching television while scrolling through our phones and mentally rehearsing tomorrowâs conversation at the same time. We can become everywhere except where we actually are.
Difficult experiences can also leave us feeling disconnected from ourselves. Within different shamanic traditions, there are teachings concerning fragmentation, loss and restoration, including practices commonly described today as soul retrieval. These traditions have their own spiritual understanding and should not simply be reduced to modern psychological terminology.
There is nevertheless an interesting resonance between the two approaches. Mindfulness repeatedly asks us to notice where our awareness is now. Shamanic practice can take us towards the deeper question of what it might mean to become fully present within ourselves again.
We live in a culture that places enormous value upon doing. We are encouraged to achieve something, fix something, buy something, improve something or become something. Even spiritual practice can become another task on the list: ten minutes of meditation completed before moving on to the next job.
Perhaps mindfulness does not always need to become another thing that we do. Sometimes it may be about what happens when we stop doing. There is a wonderful simplicity in sitting outside without needing the experience to achieve anything. We do not need the tree to heal us, the birds to give us a message or the universe to provide an answer. We can simply be there and listen. Paradoxically, it is often when we stop demanding answers that we become quiet enough to hear.
For Mindfulness Day, I invite you to spend five or ten minutes outside. You do not need a special or sacred place. A garden, woodland, park, field or quiet place beneath a tree is enough. Leave your telephone behind if you can, then stand or sit comfortably and become aware of the ground supporting you. Do not deliberately change your breathing. Simply notice it.
Gradually expand your awareness to what is happening around you. Listen to the sounds. Rather than simply identifying âbirdsâ, listen more closely. How many different birds can you hear? Which sounds are nearby and which are far away? Notice the temperature of the air against your skin, the ground beneath your feet and the movement of the breeze. Become aware of scents such as earth, rain, leaves, flowers, wood or grass.
Then begin to notice what you can see. You might try noticing movement before objects: leaves stirring in the wind, clouds crossing the sky, grasses moving or insects passing through your field of vision. Allow yourself gradually to become still.
Instead of asking what you can gain from the experience, quietly ask yourself: What is here with me? Then listen. Do not force anything to happen and do not worry if nothing unusual occurs. Simply practise being present. That is enough.
Mindfulness does not necessarily require a meditation cushion, an app or an hour of silence. It can happen while walking, washing dishes, sitting beneath a tree or listening properly to somebody we love. It happens whenever we suddenly remember: I am here.
Shamanic awareness adds another dimension to that recognition. I am here, but I am not here alone. I exist within an extraordinary living web of relationships: with the earth beneath me, the air entering my lungs, the plants and animals around me, the people whose lives intersect with mine and, within the shamanic understanding of reality, the unseen world of spirit.
Perhaps that is one of the deeper gifts of becoming present. We begin by paying attention to ourselves. As our awareness expands, we notice the world around us. Eventually, we may remember that the separation between ourselves and the living world was never as absolute as we imagined.
This process of slowing down, listening and reconnecting is also woven through my shamanic healing practice. A shamanic healing session creates a space away from the continual demands and distractions of everyday life. My work can incorporate intention setting, energy body healing, shamanic drumming and journeying, alongside other shamanic healing practices according to the needs of the individual.
At its heart, however, there is something very simple. We create space, we listen, and we allow ourselves the opportunity to reconnect. So, on Mindfulness Day this year, perhaps give yourself a few minutes in which there is nowhere else you need to be. Put down the telephone, go outside, feel your feet upon the earth and listen. Notice what is around you and, for a little while, simply be here.
If you would like to develop mindfulness and meditation as part of your everyday life, I can support you through my Shamanic Life Coaching sessions. I work individually with clients to help them develop greater awareness, become more grounded and present, and establish mindfulness and meditation practices that feel natural and sustainable rather than becoming another task to complete. Drawing upon my experience of shamanic practice, meditation and working with altered states of awareness, I can also help you explore ways of quietening the continual activity of the mind, strengthening your connection with your body and intuition, and developing a deeper relationship with yourself and the natural world. You can find out more about my Shamanic Life Coaching and how I work here: https://www.roseautumn.com/shamanic-coaching/
One of the questions people ask is whether shamanic traditions make a distinction between the mind and the soul, and if they do, how that distinction is actually understood.
In my experience, there is a strong distinction between the mind and the soul. The mind is part of our human experience, but the soul belongs to a deeper level of being.
The Soul is the primary aspect and the essence of our being. It is eternal. It can cross dimensions, experience different levels of consciousness, and reincarnate into different beings. It can be fragmented by trauma, causing soul loss. This is why soul retrieval is such an important part of Shamanic Healing.
The mind, by contrast, is not a clear reflection of who we really are. It is a secondary aspect forming the functional or cognitive apparatus that processes our experience of the world. It can be conditioned by trauma, fear, social programming, and ego. It can also be influenced, distorted, and destabilised by negative forces. For that reason, I do not see the mind as identical with the soul.
This is not a simple topic. Language changes across cultures, and translation is imperfect. Different lineages use different words. Some teachings speak poetically rather than analytically. Yet in the teachings I have received, and through my own healing and practice, a meaningful distinction does appear to exist. It is not always presented as a rigid philosophical diagram, but more often as a practical map for healing and direct spiritual experience.
North American shamanism makes this distinction very clearly through the understanding of the practitioner as a hollow bone. Once the logic mind is silenced, the spirits can speak and work through the practitioner. Practitioners are taught a methodology for accessing the spirit mind directly. This suggests that ordinary thinking function is not the same as the deeper faculty through which spiritual knowledge is received.
So, within this understanding, the thinking mind is not rejected, but it is not considered the highest or most reliable instrument for spiritual perception. The logic mind is useful in ordinary life, but it can also generate noise, analysis, projection, and internal chatter. The spirit mind, by contrast, is the faculty through which one enters non-ordinary reality and receives guidance, healing, and truth from spirit.
This means that a person can be perfectly functional in ordinary mental terms and still be disconnected from deeper spiritual knowing. It also means that someone may be intellectually clear while still carrying wounds, blockages, or losses on a deeper level that the rational mind alone cannot resolve.
In my own life, I have found that the mind can be trained, steadied, and brought into greater peace.
Daily meditation over the past fifteen years has enabled me to gain much greater control over my mind, so that I have moved from depression and anxiety towards peace and contentment. That inner work has shown me that the mind is changeable. It can be disciplined. It can be healed. It can become quieter and less reactive.
Meditation has been essential, yet I have also found that some deeper wounds do not fully resolve through mental discipline alone. Through plant medicine work, Shamanic Healing, and training as a Shamanic Practitioner, I have experienced another level of healing that goes beyond thought. Soul retrieval, in particular, has brought fragmented life-force energy back to me, giving me a stronger and more powerful base from which to operate.
It also creates a stronger connection with the soul, removing some of the veils that get in the way and shroud who we really are.
Another important distinction in the teachings I have received is between different states of consciousness.
Ordinary reality is normal waking consciousness in the physical world.
Non-ordinary reality refers to realities that are not bound by the usual constraints of the physical world.
The shamanic state of consciousness is the state through which non-ordinary reality can be entered intentionally and with purpose.
This matters because the division is not simply between âmindâ and âsoul.â Consciousness itself is understood to have layers or states. Ordinary waking awareness is one level. Dreaming is another. The shamanic state is another. So when people ask how many layers there are, the answer is not always a neat numbered ladder. Rather, what is offered is a practical distinction between different modes of awareness and different ways of knowing.
There is another distinction in the teachings I have received that matters just as much: the distinction between conscious thought and subconscious patterning.
Shamanic healing often works beneath trauma and beneath ordinary cognition, at the level of old agreements, inherited patterns, and behavioural imprints. This suggests that a person may be mentally articulate, emotionally composed, and outwardly functional, while still being governed by hidden agreements formed through trauma, fear, repetition, or conditioning.
These agreements are not the soul, but they are also not simply surface thought. They belong to a deeper layer of conditioning that shapes behaviour until it is brought into awareness and changed.
So yes, a person can be healthy and functional in the mind and still have deeper layers beneath ordinary awareness. These may include the internal dialogue, subconscious agreements, and the spirit mind.
The idea of soul retrieval, as I have come to understand it through the teachings I have received and through my own healing, introduces another crucial distinction.
Here, the soul is not merely the personality, nor simply the seat of beliefs. It is a living spiritual essence or life-force. Following trauma, shock, or injury, part of that essence may withdraw or dissociate. Healing occurs when this missing part is retrieved and restored.
This is very different from modern psychological language. Thought may continue. A person may remain outwardly functional. But vitality, presence, wholeness, and deep coherence may be reduced when soul parts are missing.
In my own experience, soul retrieval has restored fragmented life-force energy and strengthened my connection to my deeper essence. It has not simply changed how I think. It has changed the energetic basis from which I live.
Healing trauma is also essential because it creates a stronger container to hold spiritual energy.
As more life-force returns, we need the strength, grounding, and integrity to hold it well. Otherwise, what comes in can feel overwhelming or unstable. Healing is not only about receiving power or light. It is also about being able to embody that energy safely and clearly.
For me, this has reinforced the importance of humility, service, and boundaries. Spiritual energy should never be approached through ego inflation or self-importance. It must be held with humility and a sincere wish to be in service, while also maintaining clear boundaries.
That balance matters. A person can grow spiritually without becoming grandiose. They can become more powerful without becoming less human. In fact, the deeper the work, the more important groundedness becomes.
Yes, I believe there is, though not always in the rigid way that Western philosophy might define it.
The self that thinks, analyses, worries, narrates, and maintains ordinary functioning is not identical to the deeper spiritual essence. The ordinary self includes the logic mind and conscious personality. Beneath and beyond that are subconscious agreements, spirit perception, life-force energy, and soul parts.
The self can carry stories; the soul carries vitality. The self can be mentally organised; the soul can still be wounded, fragmented, or partially absent.
At the same time, these are not completely separate substances. They interact. A spiritual wound can affect mental and emotional life. A changed agreement can strengthen the person and allow more life-force to return. Healing involves restoring the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual aspects together rather than isolating one from the others.
In the teachings I have received, there is not always a final, precise taxonomy of exactly how many layers the mind has. What is offered instead is a set of distinctions that are experiential and functional.
These include:
⢠the logic mind or internal dialogue
⢠the ordinary waking mind
⢠the subconscious agreements that pattern behaviour
⢠the spirit mind
⢠the soul as life-force
⢠soul parts that may dissociate and later return
⢠different states of consciousness, such as ordinary waking awareness, dreaming, and the shamanic state
That may not amount to a universal doctrine of all shamanic cultures everywhere, but it does form a coherent healing model.
The image of a kaleidoscope is a beautiful metaphor for all of this.
At any moment, what we call âmindâ may be a shifting pattern made of thought, memory, emotion, habit, imagination, perception, and spiritual sensitivity. The pattern changes as the pieces move. Some arrangements are harmonious. Some are distorted. Some are beautiful but incomplete.
Healing is not only about calming the mind. It is also about restoring lost light, changing the deeper agreements that distort perception, and bringing more of the soul back into the present.
So the answer, as I understand it through the teachings I have received and through my own direct experience, is that there is a distinction between mind and soul. The soul is pure and eternal. The thinking mind is one layer. The subconscious is another. The spirit mind is another. The soul is deeper still, as living essence and life-force.
Healing happens when these layers are brought back into right relationship with one another, which is the core essence of Shamanic Healing.
I was unexpectedly interviewed about Shamanic Healing by Jo Gray of Petersfield’s Shine Radio at the recent opening of The Centre of Complementary Medicine, in Petersfield.
In Shamanic tribal cultures, the Medicine Wheel represents the changing seasons and natural cycles of the year. Our ancient Celtic ancestors were deeply connected to the land, the seasons, and the natural world and honoured these times with rituals and ceremonies. By following this cyclical way of life we too can be aligned with the rhythms and patterns of nature that can offer us their wisdom and support our well-being.
In England, as the great wheel turns we now find nature slowly re-emerging from the deep hibernation of Winter. The 1st of February marks the Ancient Celtic festival of Imbolc (pronounced Im-molk), the first of eight celebrations held throughout the year to herald the change of the seasons.
Imbolc is a cross-quarter or mid-season festival halfway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. It marks the change in energy as the light starts to illuminate the end of the long, dark Winter to activate a new cycle of life, bringing the first stirrings of Spring.
Mother Earth is pregnant with the seeds of summerâs fruits, so Imbolc represents regeneration as the light returns to warm the land and nurture the new growth. As such it is linked with pregnancy and the Goddess Brigid in her role as a Maiden and fertility goddess. She rules the fire of the hearth as well as the fire of imagination through poetry and crafts. She also blessed other skills that required the use of fire, like blacksmithing.
Imbolc is symbolised by snowdrops and milk; the first plants and foods of early Spring. Ancient farmers used it to mark the start of Spring when the first baby lambs were born. They ensured lambs were born before the calves because they could survive better and provide much-needed milk after the long winter.
Over time, this day was absorbed by Christianity as the feast of St Brigid, Irelandâs Mother Saint, and one of Irelandâs three patron saints.
As nature starts to wake up, the new Spring energy invites us to celebrate a point of both seasonal and psychic transformation. We can use this phase to activate a new cycle on a personal level to bring in creative energy for new ideas and behaviours.
To clear the way for the new growth of our intentions we can start with purification, cleansing, and clearing away stagnation that built up over the winter months.
If you would like assistance with clearing out old patterns of behaviour and limiting beliefs, book a Shamanic Healing Session with Rose: https://www.roseautumn.com/shamanic-healing/
Some altar items for inspiration:
The other festivals are:
Spring Equinox, or Eostre, 21 March
Beltane, 1-2 May
Summer Solstice, or Litha, 21 June
Lughnasadh, or Lammas, 1-2 August
Autumn Equinox, or Mabon, 2 September
Samhain, 31 October-2 November
Winter Solstice, or Yule, 21 December
I feel saddened to be having to write this post, which is about men being triggered by women talking about the feminine in Shamanic culture. This sadness stems from the realisation that patriarchal energy is still alive and strong even in the spiritual community – and I have seen it flowing through women too.
When I read this post from a Shamanic group on my FaceBook newsfeed I felt my heart open with a really powerful resonance.
I received the realisation of looking back at a long linage of women who were in service to others and I felt fortified by that strong female heritage behind me. It felt empowering to be part of that history.
At no point did I consider that making a statement about the feminine in relation to Shamanism would be considered to be controversial by anyone. Surely my male friends would want to celebrate the feminine energy if they knew of its power?
Apparently not. It seems that some men read this post and became upset. But instead of walking away from it with the realisation that they need to go and work on their own stuff, they stopped to take the time to project their issues onto me.
The first man said âwhy not a man?â. Well my initial response was that I didnât say that a Shaman couldnât be a man. Indeed much of the history of Shamanism is written by men and is about men. As a female Shaman I often feel excluded by the strong masculine energy within the practice which is similar to how I felt twenty years ago as an art student walking the halls of big museums looking at the world through the male gaze.
The past 5,000 years of patriarchy have successfully edited the feminine influence from every aspect of social history so that as a female scholar one struggles to find books about women artists or Shamen written by women and focussing on feminine perspectives. The further back in history we go the stronger the male narrative becomes with misogynistic tendencies completely normalised and accepted.
I was listening to a podcast by Gene Decode last night. He is a former military man who had a spiritual awakening and is now an intuitive in the truther movement discerning what is true intelligence about current events by using his psychic abilities. A caller into Geneâs Q&A show asked why there were missing elements from both the Platonic Solids (Spheres and Toroids) and the Greek Elements (Aether, Wood, and Metal). Gene responded that the missing elements are feminine and that feminine has been disregarded by the control system because of its power. Hence we had witch hunts where it was acceptable to falsely accuse a woman, subject her to sexual abuse, and then kill her in the most horrific way as a sacrifice to Satan.
He said that if society knew the true power women hold then all the repression would stop.
Later on another post popped up on my newsfeed which again observed the role of the feminine in Shamanic practice and related it to creative force women hold. It was attributed to an article in Tom Tom magazine but the author was not mentioned.
The most interesting and least well-known aspect of shamanism is the traditional role of women, both as shamans and drummers. British scholar Geoffrey Ashe wrote that shamans were originally women, and that the oldest form of the word âshamanâ is gendered female. Across Asia, female shamans have been observed since the dawn of modern anthropology, and even male shamans in some native cultures around the world have worn womenâs clothes and striven for an androgynous persona in ritual to better connect with the spirit world. Some of the oldest known ritual burials were of female shamans or priestesses, in areas as far apart as Germany and Israel, dated from 8,000-12,000 years ago. How women came to embody this role so early in human history isnât known, though their ability to produce life is most likely the answer. Ritual drums were often painted red to depict menstrual blood, had symbols of the vulva, and rituals centered around fertility and fecundity.
Feminine power therefore stems from the womb and the unique female ability to create new life which in turn feeds into the healing role of the Matriarch in tribal culture. It is an older womanâs life experience and deep understanding of the body and its natural cycles and magical rites of passage from maiden, mother, to crone that brings her to the role of healer. By coming to terms with the rhythms and changes in her own body she can assist others who are experiencing the same issues. She can guide the younger woman through menstruration, pregnancy, birth, mothering, and the menopause helping her to find the lessons and gifts they bring.
This notion of feminine bodily experience as the root of healing others is echoed in the words of Jane Hardwicke Collings founder of the School of Shamanic Womancraft in Australia:
The shaman was the community healer, seer and gatekeeper between the worlds, the spiritual ceremonialist and often the midwife. She worked with herbs, dreams, symbols, ceremony, ritual, oracles and journeying in trance states to other realms for the purpose of healing and mediation for others. Nature was her guide; she understood the interconnectedness of all things.
https://schoolofshamanicwomancraft.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/05/Shamanism.pdf
It is likely that early tribal cultures would have found the process of gestation and birth a magical alchemical act. The ability to make another human from sperm inside the magical space of the womb would have revered the feminine in society. Men perhaps would have marvelled at the ability of their beloved to bring an heir of a blood lineage. This reverence is likely what first created the matriarchal cultures that came before patriarchy.
But I experienced anything but reverence for the feminine from a male Shaman friend of mine. When I read his response my heart shuddered with disgust for what he had written: that I was wrong. It is interesting that he was projecting his anger at me because the words I posted were not mine, they were written by a male writer. Therefore should it not be the writer who is wrong?
As a former admin on a natural health group I know how those who are Archontically controlled can deplete our energy with pointless arguing. As such I have learned to let others hold their own opinions without wasting my time giving the alternative view. If people try to argue with me now I just scroll past and feel confident in my ability to not allow others to intrude into my personal space. I hold my frequency high and am unaffected by the anger of others.
I deleted the comment and deleted the person as a friend as it isnât the first time I have felt this intense negative energy directed towards me from him. I wondered though, what evidence is there that I am wrong? Of course in his egoic state of anger at my audacity as a female to associate Shamanism with the feminine he did not cite any published works.
So I decided to do my own research into the notion of the feminine in Shamanism and Iâve been fascinated with the research I have found – expect more from me on this topic.