Naturalistic Paganism

“Observing: The shape of the ritual” by Áine Órga

This article was first published at The Spinning of the Wheel.

One question that is often raised by those who are coming to Paganism for the first time – whether naturalistic or not – is that of ritual content and structure. And this is a question that also needs to be answered by those whose practices are changing; for example, from theistic Pagan practices to naturalistic or atheistic ones. When I initially returned to ritual, I was doing something similar to what I had done for years as a Wicca-influenced theistic Pagan. But a lot of it felt empty; there were elements that I just didn’t believe in, and which didn’t mean anything to me. So I began to address this problem, and went about gradually reconstructing the content of my rituals.

Although PaGaian Cosmology by Glenys Livingstone was probably the most influential book I’ve ever read in terms of sorting out my attitudes towards divinity and the philosophy behind my spiritual beliefs, and although I was influenced by the ritual scripts she shared in this book, I found them to be a little too traditionally Wiccan-based in their structure. This is not, of course, necessarily a problem for everyone who wants to follow a naturalistic path; but if the language or structure doesn’t resonate metaphorically, then there may be a need to step a little further away from neo-Pagan roots.

Others (for example, John Halstead at the Allergic Pagan) have shared rituals that are mostly divorced from Wiccan-type ceremonial ritual. But coming from the background I did, I was unwilling to throw the baby out with the bath water so to speak. This is not to say that I think others have done so; but it would have been counter-productive for me. There were aspects to the traditional circle casting that I liked, that resonated with me – after all, that was my primary reason for returning to Paganism in the first place.

For me, my problem was not with the actual structure or shape of things – in fact, I always found this to be very satisfying. My problem was more with the vernacular; with the words spoken, the imagery invoked, and the thought process behind those words.

The first thing to note is that I do not cast a circle anymore. And I do not call on elemental guardians. But you may note that despite the changes in concept and vernacular, the overall structure can still probably be fairly easily related to Wiccan circle casting.

The main steps run as follows:

  • Lighting the direction candles (East, South, West, North), situating myself at the centre of these four directions, and mentally drawing into my mind the whole of the Earth in these four directions. I have a simple sentence I say at each, associating each cardinal direction with their relationship with the sun and its perceived movement in our sky.
  • Grounding myself at the centre of the Earth, and affirming that I am at once everything, and everything is in me. This sets up the connectivity that I strive towards throughout the observance. This is where I first mention Gaia.
  • Observing the “Powers of the Earth”. I conceive of these as the three states of matter that we and the Earth are made of (gas, liquid, solid). I also conceive of them as the most basic ways in which we experience our world around us – ground, sky, and water (rain/sea) – and the energy that brings it all into being. I have representations of each on my altar, and I light a candle to represent this.
  • Celebrating life as part of the creativity of Gaia, through linking this sense of the Earth that I have evoked (through the cardinal directions and the states of matter) with our own coming to being.
  • Revering the ancestors: I say a few words about our current state as conscious humans, starting with recent relatives and moving back to the very first living being. I light candles to represent male and female human consciousness.This part of the ritual has only recently become more important to me, and I have added a few words to this effect.
  • Calling to Gaia. This is the main aspect of the ritual. I light a candle to represent the nothingness, or the somethingness, that came before everything – I see this as an aspect of Gaia, as I understand Gaia as existence, as the very fact of being. I light another candle to represent Gaia as mother, as the All. This, for me, is her primary guise; this candle represents the entire Cosmos, all of existence. I light two more paired candles to represent the dark and the light in Gaia, rebirth and annihilation, the Virgin and the Crone. I see these as yin and yang, and the two major pulling forces of Gaia.
  • Ritual dedication, meditation or other activity. On the full moon, this is usually meditation; on the dark moon, I have taken to doing a meditation on the ancestors or “Old Ones”; on the wheel of the year celebrations, I tend to have words to speak, some small action to perform, and a short (usually 10 minute) meditation.
  • Ending the observance. I extinguish the directional candles and say some simple words, where I “turn back to myself”. I often don’t extinguish the candles on the altar at this point, but I do say a few words to ground me back into myself and normal reality. I tend to leave the candles burning for another half hour or so on the altar – I never feel like extinguishing them as soon as the ritual is over. I sometimes will sit at the altar or my bigger work space and take the opportunity to do some divination (I’ll post about my naturalistic interpretation of that some time!) or journalling.

I am pretty happy with this outline at this point; the one thing I feel a difficulty with is not having enough activity. I would quite like to have actions or movements or such to be doing while I go through the motions of the ritual. But I imagine that as I become more familiar with the words and the shape of it, this will come more naturally.

I currently have a soundtrack of music I put together that I time things to. The idea is that the change of music triggers the next phase of the ritual. But I’m having difficulty where I’m feeling a little rushed, so I think I may have to change this habit; maybe just have one long piece of music on loop or something, or have the songs on loop for me to change when I feel ready.

I don’t currently feel happy to share more detail than this; for example, the words I use or the specific actions I do. I’m not exactly sure why, but it doesn’t feel quite right. But I hope that this outline will be of help to someone. I would also love to hear other people’s opinions and ritual shapes if you’re willing to share.

The author

Aine OrgaAine Orga

Áine Órga:  I practice a that spirituality is very much earth-based, and the wheel of the year I follow is for the most part the same as that of modern Paganism.  My self-identification as a Pagan has been gradually solidifying over the past year, and so too has an uneasy balance between my emotional pantheism and my rational atheism.I seek a connection with the divine Cosmos on an emotional level, but I am sceptical by nature, and have a tendency to believe only in what can be proved or at least somewhat backed up by modern science. My spiritual practices are therefore largely metaphorical. However, I feel that religious or ritual observance and meditation is an important aspect to human nature, and find it emotionally and psychologically beneficial.

You can read more of Áine’s writing at her blog, HearttStory.org.

See Áine other posts

“Pagan Crafting” by Crafter Yearly

This post originally appeared on CrafterYearly’s blog, Crafting the Wheel of the Year.

One of the things that has most drawn me to Paganism is the emphasis Pagans place on our interconnectedness with all life and the Earth. For Pagans, the cycles of the Earth, Sun, and Moon provide the occasions for celebration and reflection. Our high holidays mark the seasonal transitions that result from the interplay of the Earth and the Sun. The Moon’s monthly phases, likewise, offer an opportunity for regular reflection on one’s goals, blessings, and also those negative habits or forces that operate in one’s life. Sabbats and Esbats are regular occurrences throughout the year. However, together they only account for 21 days out of 365. This leaves a good number of days for expressing one’s relationship with the Earth through more mundane practices than the celebrations that occur on the Sabbats and Esbats.

As a solitary, pantheist Pagan, my daily spiritual practices can’t consist in praying to, offering to, or otherwise engaging with the Goddess or the God. Since I don’t believe in Goddesses or Gods like many other Pagans do, what are common daily occurrences for many cannot work for me. This has caused me to have to figure out different ways to experience my interconnectedness with the Earth throughout the year.

When I was younger I practiced with a Wiccan family and their coven. They were an eclectic bunch. B., my mentor, was heavily influenced by the Reclaiming tradition. She bought me a copy of the Spiral Dance. She guided me through meditations from the book. But she also incorporated practices from her Native American heritage and from various Wiccan traditions. Her friends in the coven brought even more diversity to the spiritual practices. Some studied Druidry. Some studied Jewish mystical traditions. Some were more traditional Wiccans. There was such a diversity of viewpoints present that at any given event, the most common denominator among the participants was a reverence for the Earth, the Universe, and our interconnection with one another and everything else in the Universe.

The other common denominator: everyone in the group was involved in some kind of homesteading and/or crafting. P. grew much of her own food and medicinal herbs and made the most beautifully scented and luxuriously lathering soaps. D. likewise grew food and made intricate metal cuts for selling at festivals and faire. B., my mentor, did a little of everything. She was an artist. She could draw and paint and create just about any sort of decoration one could want in their home. She could sew, and she made what was needed for her home, her kids, or for me when I worked for her and needed something to wear at her cart. Her home was full of personal touches and handmade objects, as was her garden. Everyone in the group was in some way or another (or in many ways) what one might refer to as “crafty.”

I’m not sure which happened first or which influenced the other: did I start crafting and then get back into Paganism, or did I return home to Paganism and then get more serious about crafting? I’m not sure. But what I am sure of is that somehow, for some reason, the two things are intimately related in my mind. Perhaps they’re related simply because of my experiences with B. and her eclectic coven members. But I think it’s actually something more than just that.

I think that the reason that Paganism and crafting seem so closely associated for me is because the crafting that I do (or, that I am aching to be able to start doing after we move across the country in about a month) is crafting that is related to sustaining one’s self and one’s family and is, therefore, intimately connected up to the cycles of the earth and the care of the body. I knit, and as a result, much of my crafting is focused on preparing for winter and providing warmth for myself or others in the absence of warmth from the sun. Knitting for me isn’t only linked up to the seasons, but also to the life cycle—as many of my knitting projects have been meant to comfort and warm the newborn children of my friends, or to provide warmth and comfort to older people who have fallen ill that I care about.

Likewise, other crafts I engage in are opportunities for me to bring my Paganism into my daily life. Over the past year, I have been making soaps, lotions, and various other body care products for myself and my loved ones. While this might immediately or on the face of it seem like it has nothing to do with Paganism, I experience this practice as centrally related to my Paganism. With every batch of soap or lotion or balm that I make, I use only 100% organic, natural, plant-based products. Everything that goes into my body care items is from the Earth. There are no synthetic chemicals, no detergents, no ingredients that come from a lab somewhere. Everything I use is of the Earth and this is very important to me. It matters not only when I am making the items, but also when I am using them. Each time I shower with my homemade, organic, plant-based soaps I am reminded of how good the Earth is, of how well she can care for us, of how completely she provides for us. As I slowly transition from purchased products to homemade products, I feel not only more appreciative of the Earth and everything she provides for all beings, but also more self-sufficient. I feel empowered each time I learn a new recipe and make a new product to care for my body or the bodies of those I care about.

Self-sufficiency may not seem like a particularly Pagan practice or value, and yet for me in my practice it is one of the most significant values. During another era of human history, almost everyone’s lives were intimately related to the cycles of the earth. The planting season was followed by the growing season which was followed by the harvesting season. After the harvest, food was put up and preserved to sustain the family throughout the winter. Likewise, people planned for warmth and comfort throughout the winter. Clothes were made or repaired, blankets made, wood chopped. Winter’s coming required preparation and planning. Aside from seasonal preparations, people were also responsible for making their own soaps, candles, and herbal medicines. In these processes, too, humans were linked to the Earth. Surviving and/or living well required a knowledge of the plants and animals with whom we share the Earth. Humans needed to know what could be harvested from the Earth and how it could best be used to sustain their families. This knowledge tied people to the Earth in a way that few of us experience today.

My goal is, over time, to become more self-sufficient and to live a more cyclical, seasonal life in balance with the Earth. As my husband and I move to a part of the country with real seasons, I look forward to getting back into the rhythm of the seasons. I look forward to living somewhere with land enough (even in the city) that I can garden and grow at least some of my own food and herbs for homemade medicines. I look forward to canning and otherwise preserving what I can for the winter. I am excited to begin sewing and quilting and making a home-made home for myself and my husband. It’s through these simple life-making acts that I most commonly experience my relationship with the Earth. And for that reason, Paganism and crafting, for me, are deeply intertwined.

The Author

Crafter Yearly earned a PhD in political philosophy and now works as a professor at a teaching institution in the midwest. Her research is in the areas of antiracism, feminism, and social constructivism. She was introduced to Paganism by Wiccans, but has come over time to adopt a purely naturalistic reverence for the Earth and the Universe. She lives her Paganism by celebrating the movements of the sun and the moon, connecting to the cycles of the earth through crafting handmade goods, and connecting to her body through yoga and dance. Crafter Yearly maintains a blog at: https://craftingthewheeloftheyear.wordpress.com

Call for submissions: Intellect in service to wonder

Our early summer theme here at HP is “Intellect”. Beginning with the summer solstice in June, we will discuss what role intellect played in our coming to Naturalistic Paganism, what role it continues to play, how we make intellect serve wonder, and what constructive role intellectual inquiry plays in our Naturalistic Paganism. Send your submissions to humanisticpaganism [at] gmail [dot] com.

“Caring for nature” by Annika Garratt

This essay original appeared on Annika Garratt’s blog.

Mother Earth, by Annika Garratt

Mother Earth, by Annika Garratt

“Caring for nature.”

This is a phrase I find a little odd, simply because people have strange concepts of what Nature is. I remember in Sweden people expressed respect and care for “the nature” and they would go out into “the nature”, so there is this concept of Nature as a place, somewhere beyond the cities and towns, Nature is a wild place outside of human civilization. I find this a very strange use of the word “Nature” because it implies that Nature is something outside of the human realm, something that can be held at arms length and kept out of our lives. Doesn’t this seem totally ridiculous? Why is there this idea that human civilization is not “natural”?

“Why cannot cities—themselves “natural” in a way—also be conducive to the practice of pantheism? Perhaps cities could be if they and many of their people were not as neglected and abused as much as some wilderness areas (if the comparison makes any sense). “God’s country” for the pantheist denotes urban as well as pastoral settings—indeed it extends to the suburbs. Given the existence of a divine Unity one should not regard all personal preferences (e.g., for a garden), as cosmically endorsed. If the goal of pantheism is a way of life and a kind of “state,” then any locale that is generally conducive to promoting those goals is acceptable.” (“Pantheism”, Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy)

In the Medieval mind, the wilderness was the devil’s land, populated by demonic spirits of the forest. God didn’t live out there. God lived in the man-made churches. The wilderness was an amoral chaotic place, whereas human civilization had the potential to be orderly and pious. Nature was something to be feared, reigned in, and controlled. As humans studied Nature, we came to understand that Nature is not chaotic, but orderly. Physicists studied Nature’s Laws and came to regard the Universe as an orderly place.

There is a growing idea that “natural” is more trustworthy than man-made things. We have a polarised view of “natural products” and “artificial products”. Humans can’t be trusted to tamper with Nature’s wisdom. Now we think of Nature as an elderly fragile thing that we need to protect from the big bad world of humanity.

Hold on a minute. Are humans not products of Nature? Is civilization not wholly natural? Isn’t it only natural that humans should develop technology? Why do we imagine that Nature is separate from us? Nature is not “out there”, Nature is everywhere! Nature is the sole God of the Universe, Nature is the sole creator of everything that exists. When humans procreate, that’s Nature at work. When children are born, that’s Nature at work. When children learn to speak and read and write, that’s Nature at work. When adult humans develop technology, that’s Nature at work. When humans build houses, that’s Nature at work. When humans create rockets and go into outer space, that’s Nature at work. There is no such thing as “unnatural”, because to believe in anything “unnatural” would imply a belief in the “supernatural”. There is no “supernature” for the pantheist, because Nature is All. There is no “above” or “beyond” the realm of Nature.

Rather than “caring for Nature” I would suggest “oneness with Nature”. I came across this helpful quote from the Metaphysics Research Lab, CSLI, Stanford University:

“A pantheistic ecological ethic will not be anthropocentric. This rules out the notion of man as a “steward of nature,” whether his own or God’s, who is responsible for nature. It also rules out utilitarian, contractarian, and Kantian approaches as providing an ultimate basis since they are anthropocentric. It does not, however, rule out contractarian etc. principles as useful guides to making and justifying environmental decisions. Applying anthropocentrically conceived principles to environmental issues would suffice in many cases, but not all, to sound reasoning about the environment. (The practical problem environmentally speaking has been that almost no principles have been applied until recently. Selfish economic “forces,” i.e. people, have ruled without restraint.)”

The author

Annika Garratt

Annika is an artist/illustrator from Bournemouth UK. She produces colourful mixed media artwork on canvas as well as fluid ink illustrations, often based on folklore and mythological themes. Annika sells original paintings on canvas as well as fine art prints. If you have any questions about Annika’s work, feel free to contact her by email. You can also find Annika here.

“The Amethyst Path: Shamanism, Dionysian Spirituality and Recovery from ‘Addiction'” by Wayne Martin Mellinger, Ph.D.

Today, we are joined by Wayne Martin Mellinger, Ph.D., who describes a Dionysian spirituality in the pursuit of a shamanic approach to addiction recovery. This essay was originally published at Mellinger’s blog, Doing Modernity: Using Cultural Interactionism to Study Everyday Life.

This paper advances a “shamanic approach to drug abuse and addiction”, what I will call the Amethyst Path. What our modern culture typically calls “addicts” are misguided shamans who, having had a “thirst for wholeness” and sacred ecstasy, ventured into the realm of substance use only to end up compulsively consuming their “drug of choice”. While their “Will to Party” might be an innate, natural and healthy urge, without the shamanic wisdom of “controlled use”, many end up in self-destructive cycles of misuse and over-consumption. But, thankfully, these misguided shamans can become “wounded healers” with the gift of bringing health and happiness to others who suffer. While ceasing to use totally or perhaps just ceasing to over-consume substances, it is imperative that they find healthy ways to “dance with Dionysus”, keeping sacred ecstasy as part of their lives.

Introduction

In the early 1980s, after graduating from college, I moved to San Francisco to begin the next phase in my life journey. Within a few months of being in California, I became deeply interested in exploring the possibility of finding a religion that was “non-patriarchal”, and that considered the Earth as a sacred and living organism.

This exploration led me to the fringes of contemporary American religions. Soon I was immersed in studying feminist spirituality, Wicca, and other non-traditional spiritualties. As someone with a Northern and Western European ancestry, I was particularly intrigued by Celtic Paganism and attempts to re-construct the “Old Religion” of many of my ancestors. Moreover, my studies were informed by anthropological research on shamanism. I learned that the polytheistic religions of agricultural societies emerged from earlier shamanic religions of pre-agricultural people and maintained essential shamanic elements.

Today I recognize both the problems of “white shamanism” and the problems of re-constructing long-lost European pre-Christian spiritual traditions. Back then I nonetheless craved for a spirituality that would fit my worldview as a politically radical, anarcho-feminist. Somehow, the Greek god Dionysus entered my life here in San Francisco and has accompanied me throughout my adult life in my quest for a spiritual approach to live. While I now attend a Unitarian-Universalist congregation in Santa Barbara, California, my deep intellectual encounters with shamanism, Dionysus and Earth-centered spiritualties continue to critically inform my spiritual development.

The Shamanic Use of Entheogens

Long ago across this glorious planet our ancient ancestors lived close to the Earth in small bands of nomadic foragers. Several thousands of years ago before the advent of agriculture this was the dominant form of social organization among humans. We often learn about these people as “hunters and gathers,” although scholars now debate how much hunting compared with foraging actually composed their everyday lives and food collection practices. Moreover, any notion that you might have had about primitive “cave men” having lives that were “nasty, brutish and short”, to cite Thomas Hobbes’s grim estimation, has been replaced by notions of these people occupying the “original affluent society” with lives of abundance, health, relative harmony and what I have called a “mass psychology of connectedness”.

While much diversity existed among these early humans, anthropologists agree that they often shared a spiritual worldview centered around shamanism. A shaman is a woman or man who “journeys to the Otherworld”, often through the use of psychotropic plants (“entheogens”), or through the use of trance, song and dance or other consciousness-shifting techniques (i.e. rhythmic drumming, fasting, etc.). What you might have heard called “witch doctors”, “medicine men”, or “primitive healers” were individuals employing a sophisticated set of practices that were central to healing, community integration, and spiritual life.

Shamans are often experts in plant and animal lore, the keepers of many vital cultural traditions, and very special community leaders. Some of them were probably what we might consider “deviants”: some lived as cross-dressers, some had periods of what we might consider to be “madness”, some choose to live at the edge of the community in other ways. The religions that they practiced and the type of medicine they employed often involved the consumption of mind-altering substances. In fact, many of the substances that in modern society are known as “drugs” had their original human use in shamanic rituals (i.e. opium plants, coca leaves). Of course, for the shaman, these were not recreational drugs with which to “party”; these were sacred “plant-gods”, were treated with the utmost respect, and allowed the shaman to have access to non-ordinary consciousness—a plane on which healing would take place.

Typically, the shaman would ingest the plant substance, which would induce a trance-like state. While in that state the shaman would have the experience of “journeying” to the “Otherworld” and have contact with plant and animal “allies” that would aid in the healing. The shaman would often bring back healing messages from this Otherworld. This brief summary grossly simplifies the complex range of behaviors found across the planet and employed in these ancient religions.

The Genealogy of Drug Abuse and Addiction

I have spent some time researching the link between the shamanic use of plant-gods and the modern compulsive use of “drugs”. My essay, “On the Genealogy of Drug Abuse and Addiction”, traces the history of substance use among humans, argues that a “Pharmacratic Inquisition”, which began in the fourth century of our era, and in which patriarchal church and state conspired, virtually destroyed the last remnants of shamanism in European “civilization”. European empires have continued their prohibitionist campaigns so that much of the wisdom of shamanism has been destroyed.

Specifically, the use of en-theo-gens (those psychotropic plants which “manifest the divine within”) was highly proscribed in these ancient shamanic cultures. How the plant was procured and consumed was highly controlled through time-honored traditions that ensured that sacred use did not become compulsive use. This “controlled use” was the wisdom of countless generations and was strongly enforced through various sanctions. Moreover, the “set and setting”, as Timothy Leary described them, in which these entheogens were consumed was also highly monitored and managed. Those who partook in the sacred ceremonies had the right “mind set” and did their activities in the right physical and cultural settings. Often, initiation involved years of training and was guided by seasoned experts.

Researching the anthropology and history of substance use among humans, it was clear that the substances themselves were not the problem. For tens of thousands of years, substances were used productively as sacraments in healing ceremonies. When the “set and setting” are conducive, the precursors of modern addictive drugs were employed without major problems. Thousands of years of these forms of substance use have perhaps shaped our urges to consume substances, so that now the our urges to consume mind-altering substances, our “Will to Party” (Mellinger, 2009), is innate, and perhaps hard-wired into our brains.

What I am calling, “critical drug use theory”, examines how the economic mode of production of any society impacts the use of mind-altering substances. For example, hunting and gathering, agricultural and industrial societies each might potentially have distinct forms of substance use which are shaped by their “economic base”. Compulsive “drug” use in modern societies is a complex social phenomenon that has no simple etiology. However, it is clear that the conditioning of our mind / bodies to consume substances over thousands of years combined with the modern destruction of the wisdom of “controlled use” is a lethal combination that has wrecked havoc upon contemporary societies.

Unfortunately, much scholarly research on substance use in modern societies is tainted by a pervasive “drug war ideology”—combinations of lies, misinformation and disinformation that smears all substance use as “evil” and lumps together diverse behaviors. A mythology of the “dope fiend” underlies these ideologies. In this myth, even a single use has brought someone to the point of addiction, because of the ever-present phenomena of “tolerance” and “craving”. Any notion of controlled use of substances has been erased from our collective memory. Of course, this is not to deny that for many people in contemporary societies, substance use has become highly problematic. Quite the opposite, I hope here to propose a rationale for sobriety from a shamanic perspective.

Modern societies have a far different social organization than pre-agricultural societies. Industrial capitalism and urbanization have created situations ripe for the emergence of substance misuse and abuse. Given the destruction of the wisdom of “controlled use”, we have Dionysian countercultures divorced from any knowledge of the ritualized restraints which are demanded for the sacred potential of substances to reach their potential. Moreover, a mass psychology of misery has replaced the connectedness that once was the zeitgeist of archaic human communities. Today, few in our societies live their lives free from the symptoms of mental health challenges, and alienation and anxiety are all pervasive. Many people I know are barely holding on! Within this context, drug use is not a ritualized sacrament, but is often used to self-medicate symptoms of psychological pain. As one who self-medicated for undiagnosed mental health challenges and eventually got tangled up with law enforcement agencies, I know well the problems to which substance use can lead.

Dionysian Spirituality

As stated, I first became intrigued by the Greek god Dionysus in San Francisco in the early 1980s, and have continued to explore facets of his myth throughout my life. At first, I embraced him as “the god of ecstasy”. Many people know Dionysus as the god of wine–Bacchus to the Romans–for whom intoxication is way to transgress the boundaries of conventional society. Later, reading Nietzsche, I explored other Dionysian aspects of our culture–celebrations of “unreason”. Here, I advance a Dionysian spirituality in the pursuit of a shamanic approach to recovery.

The Dionysian Mysteries were a complex set of religions found among the ancient Greeks, known for their use of intoxicants and other trance-inducing techniques, such as music and dance, to remove inhibitions and social constraints, liberating the individual to return to a more natural and primal state. Dionysian religion has been called “the voodoo cult of the Mediterrean”. Taking place four days every two years on Mount Parnassus, the ecstatic cult of Dionysus was centered on the sacramental use of wine and other intoxicants, possibly including the fly agaric mushroom (amanita muscaria). The rites were based on a death-rebirth theme and on spirit possession. Maenads and satyrs went wild. The constraints of civilization were tossed out. Oppressed outsiders, such as women, slaves and foreigners, were momentarily liberated and transgressively inverted in their roles. The activities of the devotees of Dionysus are interpreted as cathartic, liberating, invigorating and transformative. “Evoi!” they shouted.

Dionysian religion, as I imagine it today, invokes the spirit of these ancient revelers while adapting it to modern times. This means creating an approach to spirituality grounded in our “Will to Party”, that is, our innate urges to find ways of experiencing ecstatic frenzy, while acknowledging a context in which notion of “controlled use” are absent, where prohibition ideologies and practices are carried out by the State, and in which the mass psychology is quite different from our pre-modern ancestors.

While the controlled use of entheogens is certainly possible and desirable for many, for others it might not be possible or desirable. We must, of course, differentiate between substance use, substance abuse and compulsive use. “Drug war ideologies” have erased from our public understanding any notion of non-abusive or functional use. Moreover, the forms of use that might have worked for earlier societies might no longer work because both the “set and setting” have radically changed.

While responsible substance use was clearly a part of the ancient Dionysian religion and can continue to play a vital role in modern Dionysian spiritualities, alternative forms of ecstasy need to be embraced for those for whom substance abuse has been a problem. Substance abuse and compulsive use are failures to follow the guidance of Dionysus. The essence of Dionysian spirituality is the celebration of the whole self through ecstatic rituals. Modernity tends to identify with the rational self and to displace irrational elements–emotions, fantasies, sexual longings. These transgressive practices of sacred psychosis work to dissolve the ego.

Nietzschean Affirmations of Life

My understandings of Dionysian spirituality have been greatly enhanced by my studies of Friedrich Nietzsche. In his book, The Birth of Tragedy, Nietzsche proposes that the movement of humanity for survival has been guided by a sacred general economy. On the one side we have order, law and creation—represented by Greek god, Apollo. On the other side we have chaos, transgression and destruction-represented by Greek god, Dionysus. On the one side we have Apollo, who represents beauty, permanence and perfection. On the other side we have Dionysus, who represents tragedy, intoxication and reverie.

Modern humans have become debased by absolute adherence to order and stability. Through this Apollonian triumph we have lost our essential meaning and have become “things”. How we yearn to return to the immediacy of life at the edge of chaos. How we yearn to dance again with Dionysus! Nietzsche called for a return to the repressed side of the Dionysian, though he knew it was a Promethean task. “Are we up to it?”, he asked.

Nietzsche suggested that that which brings the greatest joy also brings the greatest pain, and that that which makes us suffer also keeps us going. This is the paradox of our drive for jouissance (ecstasy). You cannot close off all awareness of jouissance in a world based on the rational ego, capitalist production and bureaucratic efficiency. This is impossible. Jouissance will break out anyway.

Nietzsche’s concept of “Ur-eine” posits a Dionysian epistemology, or way of knowing, that treats the sacred ecstasy of sexuality and mind-altering substances as potential sources of truth. Our “Will to Party” leads us to transgressive acts in which boundaries are crossed, taboos are violated and mystical frenzies are achieved. These practices reveal of the flow of our desires. Nietzsche urged us to “Say yes to life!”. Our world is sacred, and humans, as part of this world, are thus also sacred. Nietzsche urged us to appreciate our earthly life and natures and to see our human natures as what is best in us and not as evil. Our bodies and instincts similarly are not base nor vile sources of “sin”, but are magnificient sources of meaning.

Rather than a focus on a future afterlife, Nietzsche suggests that the temporal focus should be on the present, for it is only in the present moment that we can assert our aliveness, take action, engage our projects or charge our directions. We need to find tremendous meaning and satisfaction in the finite endeavors in which we are engaged now and in this world. Nietzsche urges us to throw ourselves into life and take satisfaction with what we do. When we do things intensely and strive for advancement we grow and learn, even when we falling short of we goal. The meaning of life is to be found in the enchantment of this world.

Let me quote one section of Ecce Homo, in which Nietzsche discusses Dionysian philosophy:

“The affirmation of passing away and destroying, which is the decisive feature of a Dionysian philosophy; saying Yes to opposition and war; becoming, along with a radical repudiation of the very concept of being–all this is clearly more closely related to me than anything else through to date.”

Central to the Dionysian philosophy is the acceptance of suffering, amor fati (“love of fate”), saying yes to life, and remaining affirmative. I will leave it to the reader to ponder the above glorious passage which is filled in many deep insights.

The Amethyst Path

I am using the phrase, “The Amethyst Path”, to denote a shamanic approach to drug abuse and addiction centered around the principles of Dionysian spirituality. The classical Greek word, amethysts, can be translated as “not drunken.” The light purple crystal amethyst was 
considered by the Greeks to be a powerful antidote against drunkenness, which is why wine goblets were often
 carved from it. For many, the gemstone still symbolizes sobriety.

The legend of the origin of amethyst comes from Greek myths. Dionysus, the god of
 ecstasy and intoxication, was angered one day by an insult from a mortal who would not acknowledge his divinity and he swore revenge on the
 next mortal that crossed his path, creating fierce tigers to carry out his wish. Along came 
unsuspecting Amethyst, a beautiful young maiden on her way to pay tribute to the goddess Diana. When the tigers were about to devour her, Amethyst cried out to Diana, who then turned Amethyst into a stature of pure crystalline quartz to protect her from the brutal
 claws of the tigers. Dionysus wept tears of wine in remorse for his action at the sight of the beautiful statue.
 The god’s tears stained the quartz purple, creating the beautiful gem we know today. This is an often forgotten aspect of the Dionysian myths that we can draw upon in pursuit of a shamanic approach to drug abuse and addiction.

Using the Amethyst Path: Two Approaches

The “Amethyst Path” is my name for the shamanic approach to drug abuse and addiction I hope to articulate here. It might be used in conjunction with other approaches. It embraces a spiritual approach to recovery. I envision two “shamanic” approaches to recovery from what are often referred to as drug abuse and addiction.

(1) Traditional Shamanic Journeying

The first is a more traditional form of shamanism, such as found among ancient tribal people or among modern Earth-based spiritualities, employing “techniques of ecstasy” to alter consciousness. In this form the shaman-as-healer “journeys to the Otherworld” for the addict-as-client. Alternately, the shaman-addict might journey for themselves to the Otherworld. While a traditional shaman may choose to use entheogens as the “technique of ecstasy” employed to “journey” to the Otherworld to gain healing insights for the addict-client, alternative forms might also be used given our concern here. Rhythmic drumming has been found by many to be a safe and reliable form of trance inducement.

In 1981, while in San Francisco, I undertook a three-day intensive shamanic initiation with a medicine woman from the Bear Tribe. We worked exclusively with rhythmic drumming as a trance-inducement technique. As someone who has consumed plant-entheogens, I did not find the experience directly comparable. Basically, we achieved a yogic state of meditation while laying on the floor and then were guided by the instructor through what seemed like a visualization exercise. Emphasis was put on referring to this as a “different reality” and as a “journey to the Otherworld”. While in this state, we were led to encounter our “animal ally” and to ask them for a healing message to bring “back”. My understanding is that this conforms to the basic outline of the Harner Core Shamanism. Since that time I have done more training in shamanic counseling and extensive journeying.

From a Jungian perspective, the addict has a “thirst for wholeness”, but has lost touch with important parts of their self. Through various processes, including dreams, imagination and therapy, they can contact, reintegrate and celebrate their different parts, thus coming to know and express their true selves. When people do not deal with their unacknowledged inner challenges, what Jung called the “shadow”, symptoms can arise. In modern societies, we often find Dionysian countercultures divorced from the wisdom of shamanism. Dionysian spirituality embraces spirit possession and divine intoxication. When you subtract the divine from the Dionysian you are left with the Devil and addiction–the dark sides of the Dionysian archetype.

Taking these insights into the realm of shamanic counseling, we might see a parallel with the shaman’s use of “soul retrievals”. Soul retrieval refers to a shamanic practice that aims to reintegrate various aspects of the soul (let us say their self or identity) that might have become disconnected or lost through trauma. On the shamanic journey these fragments are gathered together in the Otherworld and then re-integrated with the client. The shaman might seek information from their animal ally on where to find the lost parts.

(2) Addict-as-Misguided Shaman

The second shamanic approach to recovery from substance problems that I am advancing is perhaps more metaphorical. Here I am arguing that many people who have pronounced problems with alcohol or other drugs are misguided shamans, who, if they had lived in earlier times, might have become the true shamans of their tribes with the expertise of techniques of ecstasy. But living in modernity, without the wisdom of “controlled use”, has led these people to enter Dionysian countercultures and become self-destructive in their substance use.

My understanding of substance abuse and addiction has not only been informed by my research on shamanism, but also by my studies as a substance abuse counselor and as a social psychologist. My experience as a substance abuse counselor has brought me into contact with numerous people for whom addiction is a “spiritual emergency”. Often these were people who were looking for something “more” in life—something deeper, more meaningful, something transcendent. And while the use of alcohol and drugs did not provide what they were looking for, we should not loose sight of their lofty goals, what they were looking for. Their quest is a thirst for wholeness.

As a social psychologist, I spent considerable time thinking through the processes by which people enter into and exit out of drug-using behavior. My model highlights our human capacity to learn from our environment, particularly how we learn to define the world around us and put meaning onto it. Moreover, my model highlights people’s self-concepts—their images and feeling about themselves.

People enter social worlds as “outsiders”, not yet identifying with other participants, nor necessarily defining their actions similarly. Through sustained interactions with others in the subculture, they learn to define their actions in ways similar to that of members of that social world. As the individual takes on the subculture’s perspective, the new subculture becomes a “reference group”. As the newcomer continues to interact with the group, its members become “significant others”, who will shape the newcomer’s self-concept or sense of identity. As time goes on, the individual acts in conformity with their new self-identity. This general outline is a learning model that explains both entry into drug-using and non-using subcultures.

I am suggesting that those who are addicts or drug abusers moving into recovery can come to define themselves as “misguided shamans” and as “wounded healers”. Defining themselves in these ways, I believe that they can connect to a universal truth about their affliction, come to place their behavior in a spiritual context, and enhance their potential to be of service to others. Entering into recovery, the former substance user needs to find his or her “tribe”. It is essential that this be a healthy non-using group of individuals with whom the person can be honest, get loving support, and who will hold the individual accountable. In my experiences counseling substance users, I have found that many have poor self-concepts and in early recovery they want to beat themselves up. The rebuilding of the person’s self-identity is key to the recovery process, and the role that the new tribe will play in this process is essential. As they say, recovery happens through our relationships with others. Our sense of who we are comes from how we imagine other people see us.

Conclusion

Recovery is a “turning point”—a social process in which an individual undergoes a massive transformation in identity. This is often accompanied by the introduction to new significant others (their new “tribe”), new daily rounds and routines, as well as new ways of defining the events of their life. In this brief paper, I have outlined a shamanic approach to recovery from substance abuse issues. This approach embraces spirituality as a tool in the rehabilitation process. Specifically, I have proposed two shamanic approaches. One is the traditional journeying of the shaman to the Otherworld to bring back a healing message for the client or to do soul retrieval.

Perhaps more pragmatic is the second approach, through which I have urged those going through the recovery process to consider themselves as “misguided shamans” and to embrace a notion of themselves as “wounded healers”. Substance users often have self-concepts that are wrought with negativity, and often beat themselves up over the whole process of getting heavily involved the consumption of alcohol or other drugs. By coming to see themselves as shamans, they can re-interpret their drug-using behavior in a spiritual context: they had noble intentions and valid purposes underlying the pursuit of intoxication to excess. Often, they can see their addictive life phase as a “spiritual emergency”.

Moreover, by defining themselves as “wounded healers”, they take on a time-honored role of the tribal shaman. Wounded healers serve a vital purpose for their tribe—using their own insight into the dark journey of the soul to bring light to others who still suffer. Similar to the service work connected with the twelfth step of AA and NA programs, the idea is to bring the insights of the journey through addiction to others out there who are still suffering.

The Amethyst Path treats the addictive experience as a “spiritual emergency”. Along the path to spiritual enlightenment, even the greatest mystics and sages have faced dark times, difficult struggles, and walks in the desert. I have called these “The Ordeal”, and have named the following poem with that phrase:

None of us wants to descend into the devil’s den,
to experience absolute terror and unbearable misery,
to sail across the River Styx and suffer horrible bodily pains,
nights of endless tears and days of lost wandering.
But this is an essential part of the sacred journey.
This is “the Ordeal”–and there is no way 
to know
the deepest spiritual truths if you have not come here.
There is no way to prepare for this.
There is no way to anticipate these hardships,
for the horrors that shall befall you,
and the sacrifices 
you shall have to make are unfathomable.
Can you imagine running all night screaming like a banshee
having some ghoulish demon chasing you into the dark forest
until you cower under some log shivering like a scared Chihuahua?
At dawn you wonder what was real
and quickly return to morning routines
lest some goblin not allow you to come back.
And then comes reflection, begs of forgiveness
and promises to never do it again.
If only we would pray like this every morning!
But no, it takes being frightened to death to hold the holy chalice
and recite these magical incantations.

Spiritual emergencies are more than just periods of soul searching, for they often are physical as well as psychological, and lead the person to momentarily step away from everyday life. I have stressed the importance of finding new ways to embrace ecstatic frenzy, for I believe that our yearning to “dance with Dionysus” leads to our addictive behavior. Yes, our “will to party” is an innate need and biological urge to transgress the boundaries of conventional society. As recovering addicts many of us have come to see that the Dionysian pursuit may be noble, but it must now be done without the use of mind-altering substances. While others perhaps can still use entheogens to journey to the Otherworld, our journey might rely on rhythmic drumming, or we might find that we need not journey anymore.

The Author

My name is Wayne Martin Mellinger, Ph.D. I am a Santa Barbara-based social justice educator, activist and writer. I teach in the BA Program in Liberal Studies at Antioch University Santa Barbara, a program which promotes “praxis for social justice” in every class. I am also a social worker with a passion for helping our neighbors on the streets transition into permanent housing and self-sufficiency, especially those beset by mental health challenges and addictions. I see this work as a ministry and I enjoy joining with others from diverse faiths and secular backgrounds in these efforts to build community locally and sustainability globally.