The accounts David Abram (one of whose appellations is ‘geophilosopher’) tells of his experiences with a Nepalese shaman who shape-shifted into a raven, are intriguing, to say the least. In listening to him (online), my impression is that of a deeply thoughtful and grounded man. First impressions, particularly virtual ones, can be somewhat fraught however, so I’ll hold this story in mind, and in abeyance, for the time being. Abram's reflections around these experiences include a philosophical observation I found fascinating, compelling and mind-opening, however. Referring to the idea that the biosphere and the earth in its entirety, is a living organism (the Gaia hypothesis - once thought of as hippie nonsense, now a mainstream scientific idea), he suggests that divergent modes of perceiving and knowing that are common to animistic traditions, allow for a direct perception of self as a participant within the greater living sphere. This awareness and experience is that of a holon - 'something that is simultaneously a whole in and of itself, as well as a part of a larger whole’.[1]
'One of the oldest questions in anthropology' is, as religious scholar Tanya Luhrmann puts it, 'whether “our” schizophrenia is “their” shamanism’.[2] In many traditional shamanic cultures, shamans were initiated through ritual processes and experiences that resemble what we would call psychosis. Within these cultures, there was an understanding that if an initiate was not trained and properly cared for, 'they would become lost in the spirit realms.'[3] A collection of articles entitled Mysticism: Spiritual Quest or Psychic Disorder? was published by a group of psychiatrists some years ago. Rooted in the Christian mystical tradition as I am, I’m not sure how to react to this title, and at 825 pages I’m not about to read through it. I suppose it could be both though, and while neurological outliers may have had the makings of shamans and spiritual intuitives in times and cultures past, questions regarding the role imagination plays in the genesis of creative and spiritual states of consciousness, remain deeply mysterious and unanswered. When imagination in turn, assumes an energy of its own, additional questions, as to whether an emergent phenomenon can shape objective reality, come into view. Put another way, ‘is it possible to use the imagination to access something that is not imaginary?’[4]
In his book ‘Forgotten Truths’, the great religious scholar Huston Smith conjectures that it is not just the interpretation of reality, but reality itself that is configured by human consciousness, and the belief systems within which it is embedded. In other words, the shape of things is observer dependent. I hesitate to invoke insights into quantum reality (of which I understand nothing), as they've become cliched spiritual metaphors, but this is what current scientific understanding tells us to be true - that the forms in which reality manifests, are inextricably bound up with the act of observation.
Many ancient spiritual practices that involve imaginative visualization techniques, have been devised with the objective of facilitating access to minds bigger than our own. (i.e. God) In the Catholic tradition, Ignatian prayer harnesses the richness of sensory imagination in order to immerse oneself in the narratives of the Bible. The ultimate purpose is in cultivating the sense of a living relationship with God. The mandalas of Eastern spiritual traditions require similarly complex levels of sensorial engagement. Imaginary forces also animate the domains of creativity, as when the muse arrives with a momentum of her own, or when rumination yields novelty of thought from somewhere beyond consciousness. Whether in the arts or in scientific fields of inquiry, the processes that allow psychic doorways to swing open and information to rush in, remain mysteries of human experience.
A psychiatrist once told me that my own struggles originated in the permeability between the unconscious realms, and everyday awareness. This, he said, could make for difficulties in distinguishing the real from the fantastical. As when a horror movie has me looking around dark corners to see if anything sinister is lurking in the shadows. As a result, I find myself as the occasional occupant of an assortment of liminal states. This permeability has both advantages and liabilities; it can be cultivated or curtailed, for better or for worse. At times, my liminal liabilities have me imagining that in another time and place, I might have found my place in shamanic circles.
That I would entertain truth claims about shapeshifting, automatically raises questions about my footing in reality. In looking back at my own brushes with animistic mysticism I'm aware of the ontological weight these experiences have continued to carry over time. Are these events to be considered as peak experiences, or as the artifacts of a neurodivergent mind? In the modern world I lack any context or comprehension within which to situate and make sense of their import for my life.
One such occurrence, in Monument Valley, AZ is memorable for the stunning vista it offered on what is already a place of great natural beauty. Alone amidst this panoramic landscape of red rock mesas and spires, this ancient land seemed to intersect with my consciousness, in an experience of Deja vu stretching back over millennia. Momentarily, I had stepped into geological time, the organism of the earth revealing itself in its living stillness. It was a welcome intrusion, looking out on this primeval landscape through eyes other than my own.
Remembrance, like imagination, is a creative act of mind. Memory itself is a shapeshifter, erupting at times, into the present with uncanny power, recreating worlds that once were. A flashback I once had, carried the fierceness with which I had loved my mother as a little boy. It was like an artifact that rose unexpectedly and overwhelmingly from deep in my neurological archives. It had travelled a great distance from the emotional aliveness of that child’s mind.
When my cat Claudius was young, a perceptive neighbor observed that his wide-eyed gaze expressed a look of surprise at the world. Children seem to have a natural aptitude to enter into this same sense of amazement and appreciation of the world around them. The mechanistic view of the world that has spawned disenchantment from it, has only been dominant over the last few hundred years, whereas an intuitive grasp of reality as inherently animate, had been a characteristic of human consciousness since time immemorial.[5] From this intuitive vantage, a person looks out on a universe that is populated by subjects, not just objects.
In the process philosophy of A.N. Whitehead the world is seen as a vast field of consciousness (panpsychism). This perspective, of an inherently conscious universe, has been described as essentially "a refined and attenuated form of animism”.[6] It's a modern, theoretical construct that correlates to an ancient sense and perception of the world. Religious historian Thomas Berry considered the recovery and integration of such ecological insight as necessary to the health and revitalization of our own religions and of the planet. Traditions that had evolved in intimate proximity with the natural world, were in his view, the invaluable assets available to us in this all-important undertaking.
The mystic and philosopher Simone Weil often emphasized the value of attention, in its importance to spiritual well-being. With God, she thought, this is what counts. I think she understood that paying close attention to the world, creates channels that flow naturally into wonder. In our world, crowded as it is with digital information and entertaining distraction, there is scant collective headspace for notions of shapeshifting and animism. The landscapes of the imagination in which such fantastical experiences are within the range of the possible, have all but disappeared. The reigning worldview is the interface that embeds us in reality. It is also a self-fulfilling prophecy that determines the boundaries of the real. David Abram’s visionary accounts tell of a possibility that allows us to peer into the heart of Gaia, the planetary organism that spun us out of its core.
[1] “Holon (Philosophy),” in Wikipedia, February 11, 2024, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Holon_(philosophy)&oldid=1206343926.
[2] Tanya Marie Luhrmann, John Dulin, and Vivian Dzokoto, “The Shaman and Schizophrenia, Revisited,” Culture, Medicine, and Psychiatry, November 30, 2023, https://doi.org/10.1007/s11013-023-09840-6.
[3] “Dabney Alix on Spirituality, Shamanism and Mental Health | Psychology Today,” accessed May 28, 2024, https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/rethinking-mental-health/201604/dabney-alix-spirituality-shamanism-and-mental-health.
[4] Luhrmann, Dulin, and Dzokoto, “The Shaman and Schizophrenia, Revisited.”
[5] “Who Is Alfred North Whitehead & What Is Process Philosophy?,” Footnotes2Plato (blog), February 7, 2019, https://footnotes2plato.com/2019/02/07/who-is-alfred-north-whitehead-what-is-process-philosophy/.
[6] “Who Is Alfred North Whitehead & What Is Process Philosophy?”
These days, I walk around NY with a sense of amazement and appreciation of the city around me. Much as we did as children.