Morphic Fields I

Juno was the Patron Goddess Ancient Rome. Most of us steeped in mythology know her as the jealous and wrathful wife of philandering Jupiter. But to the Ancient Romans, she was a living Being full of sharp and seemingly conflicting facets that mark so many of the supra-human gods of the day—gods embodying multiple burgeoning energies, untouched by the monotheism that tends to force-distill most modern folks into ever-simpler images of ourselves and our deities. 

Juno’s complexity still foxes most scholars today. She guarded over marriages, mothers and childbirth, families, love, youth and fertility. But she also protected soldiers manifesting their full vital powers. She is credited with defending Rome (and the sovereignty of all people) while leaders increasingly sought her tutelary guidance in matters of politics and war—even stepping in when the real king, whether human or divine, fled. In short she was more than human (perhaps even more than human understanding), and she was a major player in the Morphic Field of Ancient Rome. 

What are Morphic Fields? (I’ll give you my take here, but there is no way I’m going to cover this sprawling topic, so pull up your browser windows and do some Googling. It’s a term coined by scientist Rupert Sheldrake.) They are fields of energy that are habituated into certain patterns, understandings, and modes of behavior. They can control the growth of a seed into a plant, an embryo into a human or a fish or a rabbit (these biological ones are specifically called Morphogenetic Fields). They are why family members maintain semblance in looks and behavior. It’s what makes Paris feel romantic or Jerusalem sacred. And we can only connect to them through our Inner Senses—whether we use these senses consciously or not.  

Everyone both contributes to and are affected by the various fields that they are in (or are connected to). Every time someone breaks a new record in running a mile, it gets easier for others to do the same. At a party, you’re more prone to drink each time someone else decides to imbibe…and if you drink, it makes it that much easier for others to do so as well. Visiting your family home, you’re more apt to re-enliven the old childhood grudges against your parents than when you’re hundreds of miles away in your apartment. 

The term “Morphic Fields” has many siblings:  quantum fields, Genius Loci, strings, trances (as Adam Crabtree describes them in Trance Zero), Archetypes, Sacred Space, etc. 

In fact, Morphic Fields closely follow the way each of our own neuropathways develop—the more we do an activity (rollerskating, playing the piano, learning a new language, etc.), the more we myelinate those neuropathways, and the faster/easier/more-proficient we are at that activity.

What does all this mean? The implications are immense. It means that when you visit a place, you connect with all the habituations (and therefore the history) of the locale or a group. If you’re psychically sensitive, you may start acting out in uncharacteristic ways. Visitors to Jerusalem are prone to a religious mania called the Jerusalem Syndrome. It means that habits, or “thoughtforms” in shamanic-speak, in your family will either get reinforced by your behavior or you will introduce new patterns that offer alternate avenues to rechannel the energy. It means that we, indeed, co-create our reality and that we all share responsibility for everything “out there.” 

So, I’ll let this sit with you all. I feel myself wanting to go in a bunch of different directions regarding Morphic Fields and their significance—which means I have to take my hands off the keyboard now. More later…

Sacred Space and the Archeology of Motives

As with surgery, in shamanism we want to maintain clean workable spaces when we roll up our sleeves and get elbow deep into Soul. We want to create Sacred Space. It’s such a basic principle of most indigenous shamanic practices, and yet not something often talked about in trainings.

For many of us, we have routines—perhaps setting up our altars, honoring our spirits, maintaining power objects, smudging the room, and calling in the Spirits. But even in situations when such elaborate routine is not possible (ICUs, for instance) the one sine qua non for setting space (besides the presence of the Spirits) is our intention. Our intentions provide the “rules” or “guidelines” of the playing field in which energy runs. (The actual mechanics is provided by our cosmologies, but that’s another post.)

A practitioner is the main power object in a healing session. S/He is the power object for the Spirits. We anchor spiritual realities into the physical world. Being a power object is a capacity everyone has to varying degrees, but shamans are born (by agreement) and beaten into serviceable shape for the Spirit by initiatory experiences. They are therefore effective power objects for the Spirits.

Human beings are in a privileged position—we are Spirit but we are also players in this physical realm. While the Spirits affect us, they don't grease all the squeaky wheels of this world without our help because the human sphere of the Middle World was set up for us to learn through Free Will, Choice and Awareness. This is why, in most cases, only the living can help the dead if they haven’t crossed over after a time…because we are the ones responsible for setting the space in the human portion of the Middle World. 

A practitioner is a power object, but a power object with history. Power objects with histories are mixed bags. Some have gathered much healing power over the years, but in most shamanic cultures they often are considered dangerous enough to outsiders that they must be buried with the owner. Those who attempt to use these artifacts usually need to purge enough of the original owner’s energy from the object before they can use it.

In our case what we need to purge are our motives, and our motives are tied to the artifacts of our history and psyche: our wounds and insecurities, our needs and the world’s inability to meet them. We’re matryoshka dolls, and we can’t assume that what’s within us is a mirror to our conscious intentions. Our motives to heal and do right may carry deeper personal needs (feeling power or wanting attention) or ulterior motives (proving that I am a good person or that I’m worthy). And unless we’re aware or have mechanisms to deal with these surprise-centers in our chocolate box, they can end up messing with our space setting in small (or not-so-small) ways. Intention is tied to motive.

Consider the above issues seriously, but don’t freak. The reality is that intentionality is a skill that we all need to hone and re-hone, and we’re always going to find surprise-centers. Being a responsible practitioner doesn’t mean being perfect or “pure,” it means taking responsibility for what you know and don’t know about yourself. Meanwhile you can make an agreement with your Helpers to face and work with your hidden motives, provided that they keep them clear of the space during a shamanic session. Learning this skill can be bitter medicine, but if we’re not afraid of the passing discomfort we can come out much better practitioners.