Cosmic Traveling: The Shamanic Journey
We must close our eyes and invoke a new manner of seeing…
a wakefulness that is the birthright of us all, though few put it to use.
—Plotinus 269
At the heart of shamanism lies the journey. It is this that helps to distinguish shamans from other ecstatics, healers, and mystics. “Any ecstatic cannot be considered a shaman,” wrote Eliade, because “the shaman specializes in a trance during which his soul is believed to leave his body and ascend to the sky or descend to the underworld.”83 Eliade’s focus on the journey as the defining feature of shamanism has been much debated, but it is certainly a distinctive feature of the tradition. Others may enter altered states, minister, or heal, but it is shamans who primarily engage in soul flight.
During this flight the shaman’s soul seems to leave the body and roam at will through the upper, middle, and lower worlds. The shaman is a cosmic traveler because, according to Eliade:
he commands the techniques of ecstasy—that is, because his soul can safely abandon his body and roam at vast distances, can penetrate the underworld and rise to the sky. Through his own ecstatic experience he knows the roads of the extraterrestrial regions. He can go below and above because he has already been there. The danger of losing his way in these forbidden regions is still great; but sanctified by his initiation and furnished with his guardian spirit, a shaman is the only human being able to challenge the danger and venture into a mystical geography.83
The precise experiences—the worlds visited, the spirits met, the dangers faced—depend on the journey’s purpose. However, the general principles are similar.
THE NATURE OF THE JOURNEY
The shamanic journey involves three phases: preparation, induction of an ASC, and the actual journey.
The initial phase is one of preparation and purification. It may involve a period of isolation, fasting, and celibacy, perhaps alone in the wilderness or in a solitary hut. The journey is usually begun at night when visions are clearer. The shaman begins the appropriate rituals and then uses a variety of techniques—such as singing, dancing, drumming, or drugs—to induce an altered state.
The journey may traverse numerous worlds and can be dramatic and dangerous, ecstatic or horrendous. Emotions may range from terror to bliss, yet, in Michael Harner’s words, often there is “an ineffable joy in what he sees, an awe of the beautiful and mysterious worlds that open before him. His experiences are like dreams, but waking ones that feel real and in which he can control his actions and direct his adventures.”146
Lower World Journeys
For these journeys the shaman usually visualizes an entrance into the earth. Common entrances include caves, a hollow tree stump, or a water hole. The shaman sees himself entering this hole and diving deep into the earth until he eventually emerges into another world. Michael Harner describes the experience as follows:
Entrances into the Lowerworld commonly lead down into a tunnel or tube that conveys the shaman to an exit, which opens out upon bright and marvelous landscapes. From there the shaman travels wherever he desires for minutes or even hours, finally returning back up through the tube...to emerge at the surface, where he entered.146
Once in the lower world the shaman begins the next phase of his mission. This may range from acquiring knowledge and power to recovering lost souls or placating angry spirits. Rasmussen gave a classic example of placation, namely the Eskimo shaman’s journey to the depths of the sea to placate the spirit Takánakapsâluk. It is this stern goddess of fate who controls the sea animals on which Eskimos depend for food. When she becomes angry—most often because of breeches of taboo—she withholds these animals. Then the Eskimos hunt in vain, and hunger haunts the tribe.
At this time their fate rests on the shaman. It is he alone who can journey to the bottom of the sea, the dwelling place of Takánakapsâluk, brave the barriers and beasts with which she protects herself, and beg her forgiveness. Rasmussen299 described the sea spirit and the shaman’s journey to her as follows:
A shaman about to make this journey is said to be nak’a’: one who drops down to the bottom of the sea. This remarkable expression is due perhaps in some degree to the fact that no one can rightly explain how the journey is made. Some assert that it is only his soul or his spirit which makes the journey; others declare that it is the shaman himself who actually, in the flesh, drops down into the underworld....
The shaman sits for a while in silence, breathing deeply, and then, after some time has elapsed, he begins to call upon his helping spirits, repeating over and over again:...“the way is made ready for me; the way opens before me!”
Where at all present must answer in chorus:...“let it be so!”
And when the helping spirits have arrived, the earth opens under the shaman, but often only to close up again; he has to struggle for a longtime with hidden forces, ere he can cry at last: “Now the way is open.” And then all present must answer: “Let the way be open before him; let there be way for him.”
And now one hears, at first under the sleeping place: “Halala—he—he— he, halala—he—he—he!” and afterwards under the passage, below the ground, the same cry: “Halele—he!” And the sound can be distinctly heard to recede farther and farther until it is lost altogether. Then all know that he is on his way to the ruler of the sea beasts....
An ordinary shaman will, even though skillful, encounter many dangers in his flight down to the bottom of the sea; the most dreaded are three large rolling stones which he meets as soon as he has reached the seafloor. There is no way round; he has to pass between them, and take great care not to be crushed by these stones, which churn about, hardly leaving room for a human being to pass. Once he has passed beyond them, he comes to a broad, trodden path, the shamans’ path; he follows a coastline resembling that which he knows from on earth, and entering a bay, finds himself on a great plain, and here lies the house of Takánakapsâluk, built of stone, with a short passage way, just like the houses of the Tunit. Outside the house one can hear the animals puffing and blowing, but he does not see them; in the passage leading to the house lies Takánakapsâluk’s dog stretched across the passage taking up all the room; it lies there gnawing at a bone and snarling. It is dangerous to all who fear it, and only the courageous shaman can pass by it, stepping straight over it as it lies; the dog then knows that the bold visitor is a great shaman, and does him no harm.
These difficulties and dangers attend the journey of an ordinary shaman. But for the very greatest, a way opens right from the house whence they invoke their helping spirits; a road down through the earth, if they are in a tent on shore, or down through the sea, if it is in a snow hut on the sea ice, and by this route the shaman is led down without encountering any obstacle. He almost glides as if falling through a tube so fitted to his body that he can check his progress by pressing against the sides, and need not actually fall down with a rush. This tube is kept open for him by all the souls of his namesakes, until he returns on his way back to earth.
Should a great shelter wall be built outside the house of Takánakapsâluk, it means that she is very angry and implacable in her feelings towards mankind, but the shaman must fling himself upon the wall, kick it down and level it to the ground. There are some who declare that her house has no roof, and is open at the top, so that she can better watch, from her place by the lamp, the doings of mankind. All the different kinds of game: seal, bearded seal, walrus and whale, are collected in a great pool on the right of her lamp, and there they lie puffing and blowing. When the shaman enters the house, he at once sees Takánakapsâluk, who, as a sign of anger, is sitting with her back to the lamp and with her back to all the animals in the pool. Her hair hangs down loose all over one side of her face, a tangled, untidy mass hiding her eyes, so that she cannot see. It is the misdeeds and offenses committed by men which gather in dirt and impurity over her body. All the foul emanations from the sins of mankind nearly suffocate her. As the shaman moves towards her, Isarrataitsoq, her father, tries to grasp hold of him. He thinks it is a dead person come to expiate offenses before passing on to the Land of the Dead, but the shaman must then at once cry out: “I am flesh and blood” and then he will not be hurt. And he must now grasp Takánakapsâluk by one shoulder and turn her face towards the lamp and towards the animals, and stroke her hair, the hair she has been unable to comb out herself, because she has no fingers; and he must smooth it and comb it, and as soon as she is calmer, he must say:
“pik’ua qilusinEq ajulErmata”: “those up above can no longer help the seals up by grasping their foreflippers.”
Then Takánakapsâluk answers in the spirit language: “The secret miscarriages of the women and breaches of taboo in eating boiled meat bar the way for the animals.”
The shaman must now use all his efforts to appease her anger, and at last, when she is in a kindlier mood, she takes the animals one by one and drops them on the floor, and then it is as if a whirlpool arises in the passage, the water pours out from the pool and the animals disappear in the sea. This means rich hunting and abundance for mankind.
It is then time for the shaman to return to his fellows up above, who are waiting for him. They can hear him coming a long way off; the rush of his passage through the tube kept open for him by the spirits comes nearer and nearer, and with a mighty “Plu—a—he—he,” he shoots up into his place behind the curtain: “Plu-plu,” like some creature of the sea, shooting up from the deep to take breath under the pressure of mighty lungs.
Then there is silence for a moment. No one may break this silence until the shaman says: “I have something to say.”
Then all present answer: “Let us hear, let us hear.”
But the shaman does not answer immediately. Rather, he uses this dramatic moment to force the audience to confess their breaches of taboo. All must acknowledge their sins, a process which produces a powerful group confession and cohesion. Only when this is complete does the shaman sigh with relief. Then at last “the cause of Takánakapsâluk’s anger is explained, and all are filled with joy at having escaped disaster....This then was what happened when shamans went down and propitiated the great Spirit of the Sea.”299
Middle and Upper World Journeys
Middle or upper world journeys have the same general features as those of the lower world. However, there are some differences in purpose and in the types of entities likely to be encountered. The lower world is often a place of tests and challenges. However, it is also a place where power animals are acquired and the shaman is guided and empowered to victory. The upper world is more likely to be where teachers and guides can be found, and journeys here may be particularly ecstatic.12
The middle world is this world. In their visions, shamans journey over it at will, unimpeded by barriers or distance, and returning with information about hunting, weather, or warfare. Middle world journeys are particularly common in the near artic areas of North America and Siberia where food supplies are precarious and migrating animal herds must be located.151
The journey to the upper world usually begins from a raised area such as a mountain, tree top or cliff, from which the shaman ascends into the sky. At some stage a membrane may temporarily impede the ascent. When this is pierced the shaman finds himself in a different realm: the upper world, populated with strange animals, plants, and people. Like the lower one, the upper world may have several levels that the shaman can usually move between at will, perhaps assisted by a helping spirit.
The ascent may also occur in other ways. In some variations the shaman may be transformed into a bird soaring to the upper world. At other times the ascent may involve climbing the world axis, which runs between upper, middle, and lower worlds. Sometimes this axis takes the form of a tree, the “world tree.” Alternately, the shaman may ascend a mountain, rainbow, or ladder. But whatever the specifics, the common theme is an ascent into a world above where spirits abide.
Only the shamans can master this journey to other worlds, and there placate or even overpower the spirits, win knowledge and power, retrieve the souls of the sick, or act as a “psychopomp”: one who guides the souls of the dead to their resting place. The ability to journey therefore gives the shaman a measure of power over the mysterious forces and spirits that rule the lives of ordinary mortals.