A Master Shaman
(We felt it was not appropriate to use our cameras during the master shaman’s ceremony. This photo shows Morley’s shaman ring. Photo by Haydock)
About 2 a.m. Morley and I made a trip to the “long drop” at the back of the yard, and returned thinking we would be leaving soon. But Tulga told us to sit tight while the shaman finished with his petitioners. After he had sent the last one from the room along with his interpreter, he surprised me by calling me to come forward.
I knelt and greeted the shaman and his spirits the way I learned from Shaman Gambat of the reindeer herders: you kneel and bow your head almost to the shaman’s lap, with your hands extended, palm up, but you aren’t supposed to actually touch him. Then he may put his hands to your head and feel around your scalp, as if exploring your state of mind.
Before I knew it, I was kneeling with my back to the shaman while he gave me a thorough back massage accompanied by some excellent counsel about my personal situation. By the time he was done, my back felt great but my knees were completely crushed, and I could only crawl back to my spot on the carpet.
Next, it was Pacey’s turn. We probably made a mistake in telling the shaman she’s a doctor. He seemed to be alarmed at first, and a little wary. I suppose that as an energy healer he must come in for criticism from people who feel his clients should be seeing medical doctors instead. But he seemed to relax when we explained that Pacey works with children who are sick and/or handicapped. Still, when he massaged her back and her bum knee, he was little overzealous and actually left a few marks the next day.
The shaman was at his best with Morley. When she told him her wish for success in training as a clinical psychologist, he understood right away that she wanted to help people to find mental, emotional, and spiritual healing. He urged her to choose one thing at his altar that she desired to keep. When she hesitated, he decided it should be a ring, but he said that really it was Ayush, an old woman healing spirit, who should give it to her.
He invoked Ayush, and then spoke to Morley in her persona, a cackling, bossy, hilarious old hag. Ayush poked Morley’s nose stud repeatedly and shrieked, “What’s this thing?!” She felt Morley’s face all over as if she had never before seen a foreigner. She squawked, “So different!” and then added, “—but we’re all the same!” She heard us laughing and talking, and broke into an old lady’s version of what English sounded like to her—something like “Blah blah blah!” in Mongolian. At last, she gave the ring to Morley and made her promise to honor it and use it in her healing work, as the master shaman himself had used it before her.
The ring is plain, like a silver mirror the size of a dime. Shamans often wear metal mirrors on their costumes, and use mirrors in their ceremonies as a way to see clearly into the heart of things. Mirrors are also a protection from evil, because if an evil spirit comes along and encounters a mirror, it will see its own terrifying face, and run away. Morley’s been wearing the ring ever since, and considers it a symbol of her commitment to her new work.
I felt we were privileged to be welcomed into the ceremony that night, to see a powerful shaman at work. Most of us westerners are educated to look at things like this with skepticism, but I know a true shaman’s work can have a profound effect on people and deserves my respect. I try to accept what I see at face value, and learn what I can from it.
