The best explanation I have found was written by Judith Seelig published on her website Women on Fire. Here it is:
The Shaman Explains . . .
Shaman
means 'the one who knows'. It comes from the name given to the traditional
healers of the Tungus people of the Russian steppes, but the role of the
shaman exists in many other cultures. He or she helps to regulate the
relationship between humans and their environment, including elements
like fire and water, birds, fish, animals, trees, plants, minerals and
all other resources that support human life. The shaman's job is to
maintain harmony in all realms: between humanity and it's environment, within humanity,
as in the relationship between people and between different parts of
society, and within the complex world of each individual. This last role
is recognisably that of the healer, but the shamanic principals are the
same: where one part dominates and causes weakness in another, or where
weakness occurs for lack of relationship with the whole, the shaman
re-balances.
This
re-balancing happens through introducing, or reintroducing, the
appropriate frequency. How does a shaman know what that is? Because she
or he has some experience of the sound of the whole, the harmonic
frequencies of life. It's that experience that forms the root of the knowing. No
one can come to that place through learning, yet everyone can learn to
undo some of the mental and emotional habits that might limit their own
field of experience.
There
are a raft of ways in which a person might encourage the state of
consciousness that is free of personality. Mind-altering drugs, fasting,
extreme fear (as in facing one's mortality) and trance-inducing rhythms
are all part of the shaman's toolkit. In this way anyone can be
apprenticed to a shaman, but learning how to be true to the
selfless whilst living as the self takes practice, self-awareness and
continuous self-discipline. The shaman bridges worlds and so must know
something of the finite and infinite at the same time. It is this knowing that is of huge value to society.
Is
it relevant to our society? I believe it is, if for no other reason than
the depth of our disregard for the whole and our profligate use, abuse
and neglect of other forms of life calls for the voice of the seer. Our
myopic selfishness is gargantuan. Mostly because the cruelty of
something like factory farming, the destruction of forests, the
polluting of air, soil and water through industrial processes and the
consequent suffering in others occur not in our neighbourhood but
unseen, elsewhere in the world. We buy something neatly and prettily
packaged. Imagine how it would be if you could feel the story in a piece
of meat, or see the fallout of mining and processing as you tug on an
aluminium ring-pull.
Because
the shaman works with the invisible, the shaman is easily dismissed or
derided by those who look for certainties. Sometimes the most
appropriate way of introducing a particular frequency is in its material
form, like a herb, or a drug made from a plant that is known to effect
change in a particular way. But where the quickest, simplest remedy is
the appropriate sound, the shaman is indefinable. That in itself makes
some people fearful. There is plenty of evidence to show that the
vibration of pitch or frequency affects matter, as in X-rays,
ultra-violet light or audible sound. So the shaman that uses the voice,
or an instrument that vibrates in a particular range of frequencies like
metal bowls, bells, gongs, a drum or a pipe, is working in a specific
section of the electro-magnetic spectrum. (That's the range of different
speeds at which energy radiates and moves out from something, including
us.)
So a
scientist can define the sounds and observe any palpable consequences,
but the reason why the shaman chooses a particular pitch is much more
difficult to pin down. Is this instinct, personal preference, intuition,
chance, guesswork or just mumbo-jumbo? Where the shaman uses her or his
voice, the variables are even greater. Cause and effect are more
difficult to define. The human voice has a huge range of modalities.
There's the actual note, the varying intensity of the sound, its shape,
its beginning and ending (consonant or vowel), the indefinable "colour"
in the individual's voice, and the intention behind the sound. To say
nothing of the shape that the shaman's body makes whilst using the
voice. All of those things make the sound or sounds unique.
If
the shaman lives in a community, others in that community will see how
the shaman conducts his or her life. There might be awareness of how he
or she treads softly on the earth, speaks rarely and with purpose, is
tender and respectful of other forms of life, and has a stillness that
can make the shaman seem HUGE.
By contrast, in our society
the experience of meeting a shaman is likely to highlight difference.
If you recognize elements that you appreciate and would like to live
yourself, such as deep stillness or sharp clarity, then you're likely to
be receptive. But if you feel unmet, uncomfortable and you compare, the shaman is not attractive.
Is
this alterable? Probably not. The shaman is in service to the whole. The
shaman does not change course so as to make people feel more
accompanied in their separated, very particular state. But that separate
condition, which is only a matter of perception, is a
part of the whole. So there is always the possibility that the
self-separated person can hear the song of inclusion all around them.
That feeling of being included, of being a part of something, can come
at any time. The shaman can function outside the framework of time and
space. The consequences of what the shaman brings are not limited to the
moment of action or interaction.
Just
as love is invisble yet touches us in endless different ways, so too
the shaman is hard to define. Attempts at analysis make the very concept
increasingly elusive. If the shaman truly plays a part in re-balancing
the whole, it will be in a way that defies definition. It will be beyond language. If we can describe it, then it is in the realm of the self.
The shaman is never
self-appointed. Rather the shaman comes to a point in her or his life
where the interests of the self cannot be met. Where the forceful power
of unconditional love has the individual melting, or so thoroughly
broken down that there is no starting place nor strength for resistance.
If the shaman is to remind us of what is available beyond our finite
minds, it will not be in language. That's why the shaman uses imagery, movement, sound and symbol to re-awaken awareness.
If you have a skill to pass
on, or something to communicate, you'll teach. A shaman who wants to
pass on learnt practices or to teach a way of perceiving creation will
have students. But the person for whom there came a moment of no choice,
save perhaps this way or death, has nothing to teach. The becoming a shaman was entirely personal. Unique. That person can only hope to enliven
in others a similar appreciation of the unique self hand-in-hand with
the Self that cares as much for the whole as it does for itself.
The drop in the ocean... no ocean complete without it. The drop... very little without the ocean.
When the shaman is singled out as
a significant drop, she or he disappears into the ocean. In that sense
the shaman has no followers, unless it is for the individual to follow
the lead and drown the pain of separation by returning to the ocean of
unconditional love.
