Shamanism is an ancient system of healing from which many modern forms of soul care, from priesthood to psychotherapy, have drawn their roots. A shaman is a multifaceted figure—a healer, seer, and artist—whose fundamental role is to restore a person's inner balance. At some point, many of us feel a call that disrupts the comfortable security of our world, often emerging during a crisis, be it spiritual, physical, or existential. This path suggests a profound truth: to be truly healed, one must learn to become a healer.

This isn't about abstract theory; it's about practical knowledge that can be integrated into a modern life, whether you're in a corporate meeting or simply walking through the city. The psychiatrist Carl Jung once noted that a therapist who has not navigated their own "dark night of the soul" would struggle to guide a patient through theirs. One may know the theory, but without the experience, the application is hollow. It is the wounded physician who truly heals. The shaman is the archetypal wounded healer.

The Call and the Transformation

The recruitment of a shaman often begins with an initiatory illness—one that cannot be diagnosed or cured by ordinary means. It might manifest as a high fever, a loss of appetite, or an inability to sleep. Beyond physical ailments, signs of an awakening can include an inexplicable sadness, a cascade of strange coincidences and synchronicities, or powerful, unusual dreams. This isn't just a career choice; it's a deep-seated calling to heal human souls, a calling that can express itself in many forms. Some become priests, others psychologists, and still others artists. All are variations of the shamanic archetype.

But the call is only the beginning. The journey to becoming can take years of trials. A central element of this transformation is a symbolic death and resurrection. Emerging from this experience, the initiate often gains a new perception, an ability to understand the subtle languages of nature and spirit. A primary task then becomes the recovery of the lost parts of the soul, both for themselves and for their community.

How does one save the soul? By remembering who you are. We are often caught between two identities: the one who is needed and the one who was born. The "one who is needed" is the self shaped by our upbringing and environment—the person molded by the chorus of "shoulds" and "should nots" from parents, teachers, and society. This self lives in a world of competition, aggression, and the endless pursuit of success.

In contrast, the one who was born is our free, authentic self. This is the part of us that chose to incarnate, the part that knows how to love, create, and desire. It is the bearer of our life's true purpose. Its world is one of love and freedom. A healthy life is like breathing; it requires both the inhale of action and ambition and the exhale of rest and being. Difficulties arise when we live only on the inhale—focused solely on conquest—or only on the exhale, avoiding all challenge in eternal relaxation.

Recognizing and Working with Karmic Tasks

The conflict between these two selves often gives rise to what can be called karmic tasks. You can recognize such a task by a few key signs:

• A recurring, problematic scenario. This could be an inability to find a fulfilling job, repeatedly choosing the same type of unhealthy partner, or always ending up with terrible neighbors no matter where you move.
• A disproportionately painful reaction. If a certain type of person or situation triggers a persistent and intense anger, disgust, or fear in you, it's a strong hint of a deeper lesson.
• An intolerance for certain life conditions.

This process is deeply reminiscent of psychological shadow work. For a person on a path of self-awareness, finding a karmic task is a breakthrough. It means you've found something vital—something difficult, frightening, or repulsive that you must move toward to work through. A past traumatic event can leave an imprint that becomes the core of a life strategy, a filter through which all people and events are perceived.

How do you know when a task is resolved? It simply loses its emotional charge. The memory remains, but it feels as emotionally significant as recalling yesterday's breakfast. The energy that tied you to the situation is gone because you've learned the lesson and gained the insight. You've outgrown the problem. But the reward for a job well done is always the next job.

Navigating the Three Worlds of the Psyche

Shamanic practice divides reality into three interconnected worlds: the Lower World, the Upper World, and the Middle World. This map applies to both the external cosmos and our internal psyche.

The Lower World: The Roots of Our Power

The Lower World is the realm of our animal power and primal instincts. This energy is neutral—neither good nor evil. Here, we connect with the wild, untamed aspect of the soul that is so often hidden in the unconscious. A journey here begins with a clear intention. Most of our core desires can be traced to four basic instincts:

• Sex (Water): The instinct to procreate.
• Money (Earth): The instinct to possess resources.
• Power (Air): The instinct to find our place in the social hierarchy.
• Health (Fire): The instinct for survival.

It's vital to ground ourselves by addressing these foundational needs. When spiritual pursuits are prioritized before material stability, our unmet needs will continue to clamor for attention, which is why some spiritual paths are unfortunately shadowed by greed and ambition.

The journey involves visualizing a place in nature with an opening into the earth—a cave, a well, a burrow—and entering it. The goal is to go as deep as possible, moving through any obstacles. The destination feels undeniably wild, untouched by civilization. Here, you must rely on all your senses, not just sight. What you perceive is a reflection of your unconscious relationship with your own primal energy. If you see a sanitized, perfect world where predators don't hunt, it may indicate that you're closing yourself off from the true nature of life, spending immense energy to deny its messy reality.

There's an old parable about two wolves fighting inside us: one is evil, the other is good. The one that wins is the one you feed. But if you feed only the light wolf, the shadow wolf grows starved and vicious, ready to attack when you least expect it. If you feed both, the internal conflict transforms into inner peace. Enlightenment comes not from imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.

The Upper World: The Realm of High Perspective

The Upper World is where we can get answers to metaphysical questions and gain a higher perspective. It's like climbing a tall tree to see the entirety of a situation that troubles you. A common source of suffering is the clash between our ideas about how life should be and how life is. When a loved one's behavior doesn't match our expectations, we feel anger and resentment. We aren't seeing the person in front of us; we're comparing them to a rigid idea in our head.

The Upper World teaches us that our discomfort often comes not from a flawed world, but from our own limiting beliefs. When our reaction to something is stronger than we are—when we cannot choose how we respond—we are dealing with an obsession. Our behavior is being guided by something other than our true self. The goal of this practice is to reclaim our freedom of thought and action. For instance, the beautiful idea of achieving spiritual "liberation" can itself become a trap. A person can become so obsessed with performing practices to clear their baggage that they stop living in the present moment. The idea of Freedom becomes a stone statue in the mind—worshipped but lifeless, occupying the space where life itself should be.

The Middle World: Sacred Reality

The Middle World is our everyday physical reality, but viewed with shamanic awareness. Any being or phenomenon exists in all three worlds at once, but we can choose which angle to view it from to solve a problem. It's in the Middle World that we often experience what is called a "loss of soul parts," which psychology might term trauma or neurosis. This happens when we couldn't cope with an intense situation, positive or negative. The un-processed energy remains in that time and place, binding us to the past.

This can happen not only in negative events but also in joyful ones. If we attach too much importance to a person, a job, or a national identity, we become unfree. Our identity becomes so fused with the external thing that its loss would feel like death. The practice of urban shamanism is about bringing awareness back into our automated daily routines. The commute you take every day, the one your brain has switched off to, is a perfect place to practice. Look at your route with fresh eyes. Notice the places that feel charged with positive, negative, or neutral energy. Parks and gardens are often universal places of power, while construction sites or places of tragedy are places of anti-power. But you also have your own unique spots—a specific tree, a favorite cafe.

By viewing the world this way, you stand with one foot in material reality and the other in the subtle reality. Shamanism is, at its core, the ability to see the world as alive. It's this very ability that fills our lives with meaning, beauty, and adventure.

References

• Mircea Eliade, Shamanism: Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy (Princeton University Press, 1964). This is the seminal academic work on the history and practice of shamanism across cultures. It provides a comprehensive foundation for understanding the concepts discussed in the article, such as the shaman's calling through illness, the initiation process (symbolic death and rebirth), and the cosmology of the three worlds. (See Part II, "Initiatory Sicknesses and Dreams" and Part III, "The Symbolism of the Center and Cosmological Maps").
• Carl G. Jung, The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious (Collected Works, Vol. 9, Part 1, Princeton University Press, 1969). Jung's work is essential for understanding the psychological underpinnings of the shamanic journey. This volume details concepts like the archetype of the "wounded healer" and the "shadow." It explains how confronting the dark, repressed aspects of our psyche is crucial for achieving wholeness, a process that directly parallels the shamanic task of integrating all parts of the soul. (The chapters on "The Concept of the Collective Unconscious" and "The Shadow" are particularly relevant).
• Michael Harner, The Way of the Shaman (Harper & Row, 1980). This book was instrumental in bringing shamanic practices to a Western audience and is highly practical. Harner details methods for undertaking shamanic journeys, including the use of drumming, and explains how to connect with power animals and spirit guides in the Lower and Upper worlds. It serves as a practical guide that complements the theoretical and historical context provided by Eliade and Jung, showing how these ancient techniques can be applied today. (See Chapters 3-5 for detailed instructions on journeying).