The Shamanism Conference - long
Had been feeling weird & anxious before going, and the feeling persisted. The bus was late getting out of Bristol and took another 20 min longer than expected to Wells. Had to wait at Wells for about 15 min, then got the bus for the last 5 mi or so to Glastonbury. I arrived around 1430, having left Bristol at 1240 instead of the 1218 on the timetable.
I got there and, after putting down my stuff at the hotel, caught the bus up to the Tor. It was very windy and cold, though thankfully not raining. I didn’t feel much of anything there, but it could be because there were so many other people there. I spoke to a Spanish couple for a bit - they were from Barcelona and were visiting a friend in Southampton, then doing a whirlwind tour of the rest of Britain in the week they were here.
I walked back down the tor, finding that the trail deposited me right at the Chalice Well, as I’d suspected. I went into the grounds of the Well, since I’d never been there before and I was unlikely to have any time to do so once the conference started. I relaxed for the first time in what seemed like a long time. I wandered around the grounds, sitting in the little arbors and generally chilling out. I took off my socks and shoes and waded in the healing pool, nearly freezing my feet solid in the process. They say the water is a constant 10C, but you couldn’t prove it by me. It felt good, though, especially after hiking up and down the Tor. I could have stayed there all day, but it was already 1630 and I wanted to see if I could find replacements for the glass mugs we got when we were in town in 2006.
I walked back into the centre and I was struck by how small Glastonbury really is. It’s got one main street, and that’s all. There’s plenty of outlying area, but it was residential as far as I could see (which admittedly wasn’t very). My hotel, which I’d chosen because it was close to the conference venue, was in fact so close to it that I got absolutely no exercise on the conference days. It’s a good thing the hotel had stairs or my legs might have seized up completely.
I had no luck finding mugs, but then I felt very rushed about looking in the shops because everything closed at 1730. I walked around a bit more, then started trying to find somewhere to eat dinner. This was problematic. Most of the cafes are there to cater to day trippers and close at 1700 or so. There may be good food to be had at some of the pubs, but I didn’t know which ones and I tend to be wary of pub food in general.
I ended up at a café that had great atmosphere, but indifferent food. Actually, it might have been quite nice if they’d listened to me when I asked for my food plain. To me, plain = no sauce or butter or anything. To them, it meant “Just butter, then.” I was blotting my food with napkins, trying to degrease it. I’ve really been here too long, I guess, because sending it back didn’t occur to me. It was roasted haddock, too, probably very good, with fresh spinach. Too bad the spinach was wilted in butter (after I’d asked if there was any dairy involved, and the waitress had said no).
After that, I walked around a bit more but everything looked closed except the pubs. I decided to call it a night and went back to my room, where I was regaled with the sounds of people carrying on in the hotel bar. I closed the window and ended up watching an hour of Futurama on the TV before showering and going to bed. I think it was the first time I’ve watched a hotel TV in about ten years.
The conference started bright and early at 0930 on Saturday morning, so I got up at 0730 and listened to my meditation music before doing anything else. There wasn’t enough room to do t’ai ch’i, so I puttered around for a while and went down to breakfast. They served me scrambled eggs and tomato - with butter. I also reminded myself why I don’t eat Rice Krispies - wheat-free they may be, but they’re incredibly artificial-tasting. Be that as it may, I finished up and went back upstairs to get my stuff together for the day (though it’s not like I couldn’t have gone back to the hotel room in one of the breaks, I realised much later).
This was probably the smallest conference I’ve ever attended - only about 45 people total. There were 4 speakers, each of whom had a 3-hour slot. I had expected there to be some minor speakers as well, with maybe hour-long slots. There wasn’t a dealer’s room either, just the speakers’ books and CDs arranged on tables at the back of the lecture room. At least there wasn’t a dilemma about which lecture to go listen to! There weren’t even name badges - we had to keep our tickets and show them every time we went into the room. I would have liked at least a little plastic holder for the ticket so it didn’t get mangled by the end of the conference. For £130, it seemed like a bit of a raw deal.
Paul Devereux, who’s been investigating the effects of sound in ceremonies and the places used to hold them, was the first speaker. He talked about sacred geographies of the Americas, starting with the Nazca lines and going through similar things all the way up to Manitoba. It was interesting, but I think he could have made his point in half the time quite well. I was more intrigued with the discussion of the corpse roads and fairy roads in Britain and Ireland, respectively - I hadn’t heard of either before. The final section of his talk was called, “So you want to be a shaman?”, which made me laugh. Hell, I don’t want to be a shaman, my teacher didn’t want to be a shaman, nobody with any sense wants to be a shaman. You get drafted! And Devereux rightly pointed out that we can’t be shamen anyway, at least not in the traditional - that is, tribal - sense. We can develop our shamanic senses and try to take a shamanic viewpoint, but that’s about it. Devereux is a good speaker and an impressive scholar. He’s not noticeably shamanic, though.
Next up was Leo Rutherford, founder of the Eagle’s Wing Centre for Contemporary Shamanism. I liked the look of him from the conference flyer, and in person he did not disappoint. He’s an older guy, did a very short stint as a standup comedian, and is refreshingly unpretentious about his practice. He led us in two drumming circles, one for about 5 min and the other for 10. The second one we prepared for in pairs; we all crowded into the center of the circle and milled around with our eyes closed, then worked with whoever was on our right. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the woman I ended up with was working on similar issues to mine - dependency, me on sugar and her on her family. We both had an intense experience, with some good releasing work being done. We talked about it afterward, and when we were all asked what it was like for us, my partner volunteered us. I didn’t really mind. Anyone buying the DVD of that part of the conference gets to hear all about it.
Rutherford has a noticeably fine aura. I kept finding myself sitting next to or near him for the rest of the conference - and I was arranging myself pretty randomly. I wonder if he was worried about me - I must have looked pretty scary while I was bringing up the emotional gunk. It was my partner who was more shaken up, though, even the next day.
Then it was dinner time, before reconvening for another couple of hours of Native American flute music, drumming and a gong bath. The flutes were very beautiful, both to see and hear. The drumming and singing were fun, but I was a bit disappointed as I had hoped for dancing. That made the gong bath not as relaxing as it could have been (as did my lack of anything to lie on or under - I didn’t think the hotel would be too happy if I removed anything from the room). It was nice enough, though. I was grateful to shower and go to bed after that, though it was only about 2200.
Sunday was the day I’d been waiting for, as I’d decided to come to the conference mostly to hear Ross Heaven. I’ve read two of his books - Vodou Shaman and Plant Spirit Medicine - and at one time thought about doing some of his workshops. I really wanted to talk to him about combining vodou and curanderismo.
Well, his talk was kind of boring for me, as it covered stuff I already knew for the most part - and he made some totally avoidable mistakes. He played us an arcana icaro of the curandero he works with and told us that it gave us a permanent shield (I hope it doesn’t interfere with anything my teacher’s done!). He’s also into the use of darkness to induce altered states - he does workshops where people spend 5 days in the dark with blindfolds on. We did a short exercise where we closed our eyes and tried to reach out to someone else in the room. I tried to reach out to a friend of a friend who was at the conference, but we never really connected.
I caught up with him at the break and asked him my questions, but the impression I got was that he didn’t really know much more than I did. I stuck to my story that I’d been in Peru just for healing and had picked up bits of info here and there just because I’d been down there so long. He didn’t seem to have much in the way of knowledge or power, but he does have charisma and is a good speaker. He lacks the pragmatism that he was describing in the curanderos he works with - all a bit precious. I talked to some of the other folks there and they confirmed my impression that he’s basically still on his own quest and financing it by bringing other people along. That’s fair enough on one hand, but on the other it seems like whoever comes along with him is going to get what he is currently into rather that what’s best for them, necessarily. A bit of a letdown, really, but I’m glad I met him before committing to spending any significant amount of time under his supervision
The last speaker was Brian Bates, another academic who specialises in the almost completely lost British shamanic tradition. Bates is a great speaker with lots of funny anecdotes. He talked about his work in trying to preserve indigenous shamanic traditions in Africa and the Americas, and about a shaman in Siberia that he arranged to come look at unknown artefacts at Sutton Hoo. Apparently they wanted to give him some kind of title, and when he refused to be called a shaman, they ended up calling him “Wizard”. So it was , “What do you think of this, Professor Wizard Bates?” It was all fascinating and funny, but I was forcibly reminded of Rincewind from the Terry Pratchett books.
There were 30-min breaks every 90 min, and a 90-min break for lunch each day. I spend most of these running around shops trying to find mugs and/or other paraphernalia. I was unable to stay in any shop more than about 5 minutes before feeling like I had to leave. I bought books and a small crystal, but that was all. I failed utterly to find any clothing, which I actually need.
The conference had been remarkably on time up until the end, when it overran by about 15 minutes. This was enough for me to miss the 1655 bus back to Bristol and I had to wait for the next one an hour later. Fortunately, a café near the bus stop was open and I was able to refuge there out of the pouring rain. The run back to Bristol was much quicker, and I was home by about 1920.
I got there and, after putting down my stuff at the hotel, caught the bus up to the Tor. It was very windy and cold, though thankfully not raining. I didn’t feel much of anything there, but it could be because there were so many other people there. I spoke to a Spanish couple for a bit - they were from Barcelona and were visiting a friend in Southampton, then doing a whirlwind tour of the rest of Britain in the week they were here.
I walked back down the tor, finding that the trail deposited me right at the Chalice Well, as I’d suspected. I went into the grounds of the Well, since I’d never been there before and I was unlikely to have any time to do so once the conference started. I relaxed for the first time in what seemed like a long time. I wandered around the grounds, sitting in the little arbors and generally chilling out. I took off my socks and shoes and waded in the healing pool, nearly freezing my feet solid in the process. They say the water is a constant 10C, but you couldn’t prove it by me. It felt good, though, especially after hiking up and down the Tor. I could have stayed there all day, but it was already 1630 and I wanted to see if I could find replacements for the glass mugs we got when we were in town in 2006.
I walked back into the centre and I was struck by how small Glastonbury really is. It’s got one main street, and that’s all. There’s plenty of outlying area, but it was residential as far as I could see (which admittedly wasn’t very). My hotel, which I’d chosen because it was close to the conference venue, was in fact so close to it that I got absolutely no exercise on the conference days. It’s a good thing the hotel had stairs or my legs might have seized up completely.
I had no luck finding mugs, but then I felt very rushed about looking in the shops because everything closed at 1730. I walked around a bit more, then started trying to find somewhere to eat dinner. This was problematic. Most of the cafes are there to cater to day trippers and close at 1700 or so. There may be good food to be had at some of the pubs, but I didn’t know which ones and I tend to be wary of pub food in general.
I ended up at a café that had great atmosphere, but indifferent food. Actually, it might have been quite nice if they’d listened to me when I asked for my food plain. To me, plain = no sauce or butter or anything. To them, it meant “Just butter, then.” I was blotting my food with napkins, trying to degrease it. I’ve really been here too long, I guess, because sending it back didn’t occur to me. It was roasted haddock, too, probably very good, with fresh spinach. Too bad the spinach was wilted in butter (after I’d asked if there was any dairy involved, and the waitress had said no).
After that, I walked around a bit more but everything looked closed except the pubs. I decided to call it a night and went back to my room, where I was regaled with the sounds of people carrying on in the hotel bar. I closed the window and ended up watching an hour of Futurama on the TV before showering and going to bed. I think it was the first time I’ve watched a hotel TV in about ten years.
The conference started bright and early at 0930 on Saturday morning, so I got up at 0730 and listened to my meditation music before doing anything else. There wasn’t enough room to do t’ai ch’i, so I puttered around for a while and went down to breakfast. They served me scrambled eggs and tomato - with butter. I also reminded myself why I don’t eat Rice Krispies - wheat-free they may be, but they’re incredibly artificial-tasting. Be that as it may, I finished up and went back upstairs to get my stuff together for the day (though it’s not like I couldn’t have gone back to the hotel room in one of the breaks, I realised much later).
This was probably the smallest conference I’ve ever attended - only about 45 people total. There were 4 speakers, each of whom had a 3-hour slot. I had expected there to be some minor speakers as well, with maybe hour-long slots. There wasn’t a dealer’s room either, just the speakers’ books and CDs arranged on tables at the back of the lecture room. At least there wasn’t a dilemma about which lecture to go listen to! There weren’t even name badges - we had to keep our tickets and show them every time we went into the room. I would have liked at least a little plastic holder for the ticket so it didn’t get mangled by the end of the conference. For £130, it seemed like a bit of a raw deal.
Paul Devereux, who’s been investigating the effects of sound in ceremonies and the places used to hold them, was the first speaker. He talked about sacred geographies of the Americas, starting with the Nazca lines and going through similar things all the way up to Manitoba. It was interesting, but I think he could have made his point in half the time quite well. I was more intrigued with the discussion of the corpse roads and fairy roads in Britain and Ireland, respectively - I hadn’t heard of either before. The final section of his talk was called, “So you want to be a shaman?”, which made me laugh. Hell, I don’t want to be a shaman, my teacher didn’t want to be a shaman, nobody with any sense wants to be a shaman. You get drafted! And Devereux rightly pointed out that we can’t be shamen anyway, at least not in the traditional - that is, tribal - sense. We can develop our shamanic senses and try to take a shamanic viewpoint, but that’s about it. Devereux is a good speaker and an impressive scholar. He’s not noticeably shamanic, though.
Next up was Leo Rutherford, founder of the Eagle’s Wing Centre for Contemporary Shamanism. I liked the look of him from the conference flyer, and in person he did not disappoint. He’s an older guy, did a very short stint as a standup comedian, and is refreshingly unpretentious about his practice. He led us in two drumming circles, one for about 5 min and the other for 10. The second one we prepared for in pairs; we all crowded into the center of the circle and milled around with our eyes closed, then worked with whoever was on our right. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the woman I ended up with was working on similar issues to mine - dependency, me on sugar and her on her family. We both had an intense experience, with some good releasing work being done. We talked about it afterward, and when we were all asked what it was like for us, my partner volunteered us. I didn’t really mind. Anyone buying the DVD of that part of the conference gets to hear all about it.
Rutherford has a noticeably fine aura. I kept finding myself sitting next to or near him for the rest of the conference - and I was arranging myself pretty randomly. I wonder if he was worried about me - I must have looked pretty scary while I was bringing up the emotional gunk. It was my partner who was more shaken up, though, even the next day.
Then it was dinner time, before reconvening for another couple of hours of Native American flute music, drumming and a gong bath. The flutes were very beautiful, both to see and hear. The drumming and singing were fun, but I was a bit disappointed as I had hoped for dancing. That made the gong bath not as relaxing as it could have been (as did my lack of anything to lie on or under - I didn’t think the hotel would be too happy if I removed anything from the room). It was nice enough, though. I was grateful to shower and go to bed after that, though it was only about 2200.
Sunday was the day I’d been waiting for, as I’d decided to come to the conference mostly to hear Ross Heaven. I’ve read two of his books - Vodou Shaman and Plant Spirit Medicine - and at one time thought about doing some of his workshops. I really wanted to talk to him about combining vodou and curanderismo.
Well, his talk was kind of boring for me, as it covered stuff I already knew for the most part - and he made some totally avoidable mistakes. He played us an arcana icaro of the curandero he works with and told us that it gave us a permanent shield (I hope it doesn’t interfere with anything my teacher’s done!). He’s also into the use of darkness to induce altered states - he does workshops where people spend 5 days in the dark with blindfolds on. We did a short exercise where we closed our eyes and tried to reach out to someone else in the room. I tried to reach out to a friend of a friend who was at the conference, but we never really connected.
I caught up with him at the break and asked him my questions, but the impression I got was that he didn’t really know much more than I did. I stuck to my story that I’d been in Peru just for healing and had picked up bits of info here and there just because I’d been down there so long. He didn’t seem to have much in the way of knowledge or power, but he does have charisma and is a good speaker. He lacks the pragmatism that he was describing in the curanderos he works with - all a bit precious. I talked to some of the other folks there and they confirmed my impression that he’s basically still on his own quest and financing it by bringing other people along. That’s fair enough on one hand, but on the other it seems like whoever comes along with him is going to get what he is currently into rather that what’s best for them, necessarily. A bit of a letdown, really, but I’m glad I met him before committing to spending any significant amount of time under his supervision
The last speaker was Brian Bates, another academic who specialises in the almost completely lost British shamanic tradition. Bates is a great speaker with lots of funny anecdotes. He talked about his work in trying to preserve indigenous shamanic traditions in Africa and the Americas, and about a shaman in Siberia that he arranged to come look at unknown artefacts at Sutton Hoo. Apparently they wanted to give him some kind of title, and when he refused to be called a shaman, they ended up calling him “Wizard”. So it was , “What do you think of this, Professor Wizard Bates?” It was all fascinating and funny, but I was forcibly reminded of Rincewind from the Terry Pratchett books.
There were 30-min breaks every 90 min, and a 90-min break for lunch each day. I spend most of these running around shops trying to find mugs and/or other paraphernalia. I was unable to stay in any shop more than about 5 minutes before feeling like I had to leave. I bought books and a small crystal, but that was all. I failed utterly to find any clothing, which I actually need.
The conference had been remarkably on time up until the end, when it overran by about 15 minutes. This was enough for me to miss the 1655 bus back to Bristol and I had to wait for the next one an hour later. Fortunately, a café near the bus stop was open and I was able to refuge there out of the pouring rain. The run back to Bristol was much quicker, and I was home by about 1920.