Thursday, February 21, 2013

Olympic Coast 1995 shamanic switch of primary assumptions


10/4/95 Ozette River, Olympic National Park

Earlier this summer, as I was leaving Tucson for my Wilderness First Responder course in Ojai and ultimately heading for the Yolla Bolly-Middle Eel Wilderness and another SCA program, I started to get the feeling that I was in need of something new in life. The thought was unformed, the impetus, however, had emerged and it would resurface every now and then with greater intensity. I heard a number of people who I really respect say that they did not believe in life after death and that opened up the question to me, “why am I believing that?”, “what am I believing?”. Then, up at George’s in Sonoma, after SCA and after a ten day North Cascades trip, we got to talking on the way to work about shamans and how I was going to look for some sort of spiritual sign on my upcoming beach solo in Olympic National Park. George encouraged me and my resolve to get out there in the wilderness and do some sort of inner pilgrimage was set. We then went into Starbuck’s down in San Rafael and proceeded to give our daily dose of jive to the wait persons.

Prior to going out to the Olympic Coastal Strip, was Steve and Kirsten’s wedding up on Vashon Island. What an amazing party that was! It was great to see all those old friends and with much gusto and reckless abandon, we stayed up late and indulged in many excesses. It was a page from the book of youth, lots of fun but hard on the brain cells. Right towards the end of this grueling weekend, Joe, Nino and myself took the ferry across to Seattle and went over to Pike Place Market. We found a fancy restaurant serving seafood and had oysters, crab and fish, next to the water. The atmosphere was just great, the sounds of water lapping up, gulls crying, people walking by with colorful fall clothing, it was cosmopolitan with nice shades of nature on the side. After a leisurely meal, we packed into my little car and I took them to the airport.

After a day of recovery, I took the ferry to Ballard and picked up my custom remodeled pack bag, which looked very sharp, with six different colors, everything new and which dug $280.00 deeper into my VISA debt. Then, I went to REI in Seattle and racked up $380.00 more, on clothes to protect me from the cold and infernal rain. The final preparations found another $160.00 being removed from my wallet at the Vashon Thriftway, all the future fruits of my labor being converted and transformed into backpacking stuff, food and supplies, magically transformed from a plastic card into a rather large debt.

Then came the ferry across to Southworth. The ride through the Olympic Peninsula is at once a vision of ancient, natural splendor and modern political flux. There are the mountains, the ice and snow, water running down through dark green pathways to the ocean. Volcanoes and huge islands come through the distance. Nature constantly beckons and graces the eye with drama and power. The economic and ideological struggle to define a proper use of natural resources is everywhere apparent, with billboards, posters and signs proclaiming opinions disguised as truth. There is a siege mentality out on the west peninsula, and in the Forks area, a sense of real danger and explosive intolerance from the locals. I arrived at the campground and proceeded to gear up for an early departure the following morning.

To get to the beach is around a three mile walk over a slippery boardwalk through the woods. After a short while, you begin to hear the ocean in the distance. Eventually, you emerge from the forest and onto the beach, the destination is reached, the power place now manifested, the quest for that elusive quality of something more in life is now at hand. Now, relaxing in the driftwood by the river and ocean, it is time to focus on something new and different. The plan is to take a good look inside. This journey has been calling me, beckoning me for some time now and here I am, at the official beginning! The questions are ancient and more often than not answered with easy faith and spiritual complacency. The plan is to stir the waters of the soul, find the wellsprings of faith, creativity, meaning, and pour some new inspiration into the container of this life. After so many years of running on faith alone, there has come a strong desire for a primary experience. The faith becomes stale, old, the perceived truths crackle around the edges, turn brown and begin to flake off. The shining brilliance of yesterday’s truth cuts not through today. What was once cutting edge has now become dogma.  

In many ways, modern life tends to blot out and obscure the value of seeking along an interior, non-material path. The emphasis is on so many exterior things. The set-in patterns of society and economy, of accumulation, status, prestige, power,  seem to have no heart. There may be material security in these things, but at what cost to the soul? I get swept along by tides of import that are not of my making. Away from the center of my life lead these paths and avenues, unexamined societal hubris, and it is easy enough to remain numb and just coast along. Organized religion does not speak to me, industry and economy seem bound up in the frenzied creation of unecessary commodities. Where is the nourishment for the soul and the heart? That is why I am here, in the wilds, to find those connections, find that nourishment.

Here, the forces of nature rule. Here, on the edge of the Pacific, on the edge of the world, a sense of global force can be entertained. Connections can be made with real power and mystery. Here, there may be deconstruction of the stale and new inspiration gained. To be personally inspired doesn’t necessarily have to take place outside of society and in the wilderness. An inner pilgrimage does, however, seem to go along nicely with an exterior journey into places wild and unknown. Modern freight can be off-loaded and tossed into the wind and something new invited to come and take its place. The fresh air and the sounds of the ocean invite the spirit to open up and divest itself of all those inland things.

The old faith was facile and easy, to believe in a universe with larger meaning. The belief was projected outward onto exterior experience and circumstance and I somehow expected that the answers would be magically revealed and delivered to my doorstep. They were not. The old faith was mostly intellectual and based on a negative elimination of those things that did not fit my primary assumptions. I could argue why others were wrong but did not do so well in establishing any basis for the ultimate truth of my own stuff. I felt that there were higher beings behind the scenes, somehow running the show and providing support, forgiveness and cushioning. How could I ever provide any proof of that?

With faith it is easy to line up the straw dogs with the color of choice and eliminate the rest as
irrelevant and illusion. What it ends up being is a closed in path of staleness and intolerance. The old faith sensed a sort of battle of ultimate truths and the necessity of being on the right side. And, while I professed an allegiance to the relativity of belief systems in general, I held onto my own as the top truth.

The result of this trip? There was no hand of God coming down to show me anything. I saw a marvelous sunset, clouds floating brilliantly across the horizon, but no dice from the supernatural. The sign was clear, I had to admit to my inner shaman: this path of faith in things unseen would have to be dropped. This marked the beginning of a complete switch to a more practical world-view, no less fascination; I just changed the operating assumptions at a basic level. My first project from this new place was to study and be able to name all of life, very fun, and exciting, to break open a whole new ballpark and feel the surge of energy come on as my soul energies sought to fill this whole new space. It was great to change the rules of the game, invigorating, just what I needed, as a world of faith was just not interest9ng enough for me, not enough meat on the bone. 

No comments:

Post a Comment