Illness from a Shamanic Perspective
- Brainz Magazine
- Aug 6
- 10 min read
Updated: Aug 11
Ash Miner's passions for music and animals resulted in 2 bachelor's degrees and 3 master's degrees before she applied that knowledge to shamanic healing and teaching. A self-published author of the book The Answer to Everything: Earth Wisdom & Beauty, Ash hopes to one day found a healing sanctuary for people and animals who have survived trauma.
In my first article, I described the essentials of a shamanic practice and gave a framework for a common language going forward into the old ways of teaching stories. This article continues from that, so please feel free to read 'Honoring the Healing Path Through Shamanic Stories and Spirit Journeys' before continuing with this one.
Humans have taught through storytelling for millennia, it is one of our greatest skills as a species. In a world full of conflict, pain, disease, and dis-ease, this story will focus on the symptoms of illness at a soul level. These symptoms often manifest as mental and physical health crises, or at least chronic personal or interpersonal struggles. Crisis, of course, referring to a turning point, the moment the fever either broke or killed you. This is why being called to learn and offer shamanic healing is often seen as far more glamorous than it really is, it is born of being chosen by life through extreme pain and suffering, often while utterly alone.
This story will demonstrate two types of calling:
The soul demands its own healing through spirit connection.
A person is being called to become a shamanic practitioner.
It is important to note that these are very separate events and do not always combine. In fact, they very often do not go together. Just because you seek shamanic healing does not mean you are meant to become a shamanic practitioner. However, after several intense years of personal healing and training, I do believe that you can only become a true shamanic practitioner after undergoing your own rigorous shamanic healing path.
Teaching stories, Part 1
Raven sat alone by a great sequoia tree, pondering the many struggles she’d been facing lately. Despite all the tests the doctors ran, she did not find any answers or diagnoses for her intense symptoms. Her blood tests came back normal, her heart monitor revealed nothing out of the ordinary, and doctors were stumped. She remained exhausted, the kind that sleep cannot recover. She was burnt out on her life, losing passion for goals she used to aspire to achieve with every waking thought, friendships she used to treasure, and activities she used to find so invigorating. The one place she did feel better was out in nature. She could always count on finding the strength she needed to get through the day when she went walking among these ancient, massive trees and the soothing, musical river that flowed beneath them.
Raven wasn’t here by accident. She had an appointment with whom her parents referred to as a shaman. The shaman lived in this forest, a somewhat secluded cabin that smelled of delicious local white sage and other divine incense scents. She wasn’t sure if this meant they were desperate, she’d never heard of anyone else going to a shaman before, or if her parents knew she was hopeless and this was a last-ditch effort to help her. Either way, she was suspicious and dubious at best about what was about to happen. Supposedly, shamans miraculously heal people, whatever that means.
Finally, a woman emerged from the cabin, the wooden door creaking eerily as she stepped into the sunlight. She had long, shiny black hair, a beautiful tan, a white, flowy dress, and flowers on her head. It took a second for Raven to notice, but the shaman was barefoot as she walked out onto the ground to greet her and her parents.
“Hello, I’m Mel. You must be Raven?” The shaman introduced herself warmly, smiling from ear to ear.
“Yes, uh, I’m Raven,” Raven replied, inexplicably and suddenly tongue-tied in the presence of such a gently powerful person.
“Well, you folks can wait here,” Mel gestured to the benches outside her cabin, “Raven and I will be inside for the ceremony.”
Raven’s parents kissed her forehead, hugged her tight, and then passed her hand off to this shaman, Mel. Mel gripped Raven’s hand firmly and comfortingly, guiding her happily into the cabin before closing the door behind her. Raven noticed she did not lock it, and felt reassured by this somehow. She did not like being confined, especially not in unfamiliar places with someone she’d just met.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, Mel said, “Don’t worry, the door is never locked while I have clients here. You are always free to leave at any time, as well as return.”
Raven’s jaw dropped. She had to consciously close her mouth as she recovered from the psychic statement Mel had just made.
“How did you know that’s what I was thinking?” Raven asked, without being able to stop herself. “Your soul told me… in your eyes,” Mel replied, smiling as though she knew many secrets. “How did my soul tell you anything? Eyes don’t talk,” Raven blurted out, confused. She hoped she didn’t come across as insulting.
“That is a training for another day, if you feel the calling. Suffice it to say, I can listen with all of my senses, both in Life and in the Spirit World,” Mel answered, completely unphased and unconcerned by the near insult.
Raven felt as though having a conversation with Mel was leading to more questions than answered, and settled on remaining silent for now. Mel was grabbing a rattle, a drum, and an abalone shell with some burnt-black scraps of something inside it. When Raven saw Mel gesture for her to sit on a well-blanketed spot on the floor, she did so hesitantly. The blankets felt unlike anything she’d ever encountered before, as though they held stories of many lifetimes. The stories felt so close, and yet she could not hear any words.
Mel sat on a cushion beside Raven, her supplies encircling her like an armored orchestra. Raven couldn’t help but admire the painting on the rattle and the texture of the hide drum. She involuntarily reached to touch the drum’s surface, but found her hand intercepted by Mel’s, who explained, “You cannot touch without permission. They are a bit like children, who are the greatest teachers and most natural journeyers, and should not talk to strangers.”
Raven pulled her hand back immediately, guilt dropping her gut to the floor and smearing her face with a sullen expression. “Sorry,” she said, with a sincere apology.
Raven looked into Mel’s eyes for forgiveness, but was met with something else. She felt like she was being examined from the inside out when she met Mel’s gaze. She glanced from right to left eye, and back again, perplexed by this intimate feeling of being absolutely seen. It made her start to cry, though she didn’t understand why. It just felt really nice. No words were needed, it seemed. Mel just really saw her. It was a gift that made her feel more alive than she could remember in her short 10 years on Earth.
After what seemed like eternity, Mel said, “You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to. Sometimes, tears come to greet the healing in the beginning, the middle, and/or the end. In this house, they are always welcome helpers, and there is no such thing as shame. I do want to say that our words have power: too few, and there isn’t enough power; too many, and the power is spread too thin.”
“I am so tired all the time, and no one can see what’s wrong with me,” Raven said without pause, “I’ve lost interest in life most days, and the only time I feel even remotely ok is when I’m walking in nature where no humans can see me.”
Mel let Raven’s words enter the room like beings in and of themselves. She nodded in acknowledgement, and took a deep breath to give Raven’s words life with her exhale. She remained silent, letting Raven’s power grow.
“Ever since my dog died, I’ve been different. Like I’m somewhere else, unable to find my way back. I know it sounds crazy, and stupid, and wrong, but I don’t know how else to say it. I miss my dog, she was like my sister. Without her here, I’m lost. Every day drains me more and more, and I’m worried that soon, there won’t be anything of me left. I can’t tell if I’m dying, or if I wish I were dead, but I think about it all the time,” Raven’s words tumbled out like boulders in a landslide.
After a moment of held silence to ensure Raven was finished, Mel said, “We know exactly what’s wrong with you, we can see it in your soul, hear it in your words, and feel it in your grief. If you let us, my helping Spirits and I would very much like to begin some healing work for you. I can’t promise you’ll be cured, that’s not what healing is. But I always have the intention that our work helps improve life in whatever way is best for this time. You have perfectly described soul and power loss, both a slow leaking over time, and a traumatic event that could cause a piece to go off somewhere safe until it’s time to come home. I am trained to do a soul retrieval, to bring that piece back, to stop the leaking, and return the power for healing to take place. It is up to the Spirits to diagnose you and determine the appropriate healing, but those are my initial thoughts. Do I have your permission to do this work, Raven?”
“Yes, please… I can’t live like this,” Raven responded instantly, pleading now. All sense of doubt dissolved, and the truth rang so strongly in Mel’s words.
Story teachings
In the beginning of the story, we can see Raven having taken care of the western medical care portion of her symptoms already. This is a vital part of shamanic healing, ensuring that the mental and physical health aspects are addressed alongside the spiritual. “Spiritual bypass” is a phrase that often refers to those who attempt to skip the hard work in life by focusing exclusively on spiritual healing. This is an intolerably unethical way to work.
Raven finding strength and respite in nature is also a very common theme for clients who need and seek shamanic healing. Empowerment is the first aid of shamanism, one of my teachers in Sweden likes to say. You can read the disempowerment in how Raven feels. Without power, healing on any level is not likely to work. Empowering the soul helps heal not only itself, but also the body and mind, like a life battery.
The parents giving their permission, as well as Raven ultimately giving her permission, is essential in the ethics of this work. We do not do work for those who have not asked, who have not given their permission, period. No matter how well-intentioned, family members asking to have work done for loved ones is not enough. Anyone old enough and capable of giving consent must do so of their own free will.
It is fairly common, in my experience, for us to be affected physically by an encounter with loving power, as Mel does when she greets Raven. Raven is tongue-tied, not out of nerves, but by the stark contrast of her own disempowered state with Mel’s more radiant empowerment. This is diagnostically significant, though subtle.
Then we see Mel make sure to help Raven feel comfortable. In real life, this process can take 30-60 minutes or more, but the point is to see Mel listening more than speaking, prompting minimally to help Raven truly hear herself for the first time, and holding space in an honoring way. The feelings are welcome, their effects on the body are welcome, and the soul’s expressions are all welcome. There is no right or wrong in sharing deep truths.
There is some education about respecting the tools, the process, and the work when Raven breaks a boundary. It is not met with fear-inducing anger, but explanation and firmness. Animism states that the drum, rattle, and smudging tools are all their own beings, and should be treated as wise teachers, as precious children to be protected. The implication in the story is that Raven is too new, there is no relationship formed yet. In time, with careful introduction, this may change.
Obviously, Mel is very gifted in intuition and revealing meaningful truths. This is a life calling for her, doing this work. For Raven, so far, it is purely a desperate need to heal herself. There is no indication that she will become a shamanic practitioner yet.
Mel describes an important distinction between healing and curing. Curing is the removal of symptoms, which can be very healing. Healing is about improving quality of life, which curing doesn’t always entail. Sometimes, the next step in a healing process is to accept that your life is never going to be good in the ways it used to be, or that you are going to die. Healing is about loving what you have, not focusing on wishing you could take something bothersome away.
Raven also hears about a potential diagnosis that Mel can recognize from her experience, but that it is the helping Spirits who do the official diagnosing and prescription assigning. A shamanic practitioner who uses their mind to determine what course of action is appropriate is no shaman. No Spirits, no shaman. We also see that Mel is bestowed with the title of shaman by the people whom she helps, not from herself. This is how this always works, whatever the title may be. An egoic way of being in this work, touting a healer title with bragging and boasting, results in all the Spirit power being taken away from the practitioner, rendering them unable to do any work.
Read more from Ash Miner
Ash Miner, MS, MM, Shamanic Practitioner & Teacher
Ash Miner's personal journey of healing PTSD led her to shamanism. Despite being a total skeptic, she knew in 1 session this was her path, and had been since she was a very little girl. Ash has spent years studying extensively, completing US training by Sandra Ingerman, as well as with Jonathan Horwitz and Zara Waldebäck in Sweden. She has found her true calling in teaching and offering shamanic healing to human beings, animals, and the Earth. Her extensive background in music education and performance, as well as animal behavior, provides a scientific framework for her soul work. She specializes in healing song and healing story. Her mission is to demystify shamanism to make it an approachable healing modality for all of humanity.
