Names and titles are important. Some names are sacred, some forbidden. Perhaps the once sacred names have become forbidden, or the other way around. Some names and titles awaken great awe and respect, while others, fear and caution. In spiritual communities there are many titles people know and refer to themselves as. Witch, Shaman, Healer, Root Worker, Spirit Doctor, to name a few most people would recognize. Beyond those commonly known, hundreds of other names exist across various cultures and practices.
Above all, I am very grateful to live in a time when once considered taboo names and professions are now spoken about openly and with recognition. As a result also shared across social media and massively utilized as marketing tools. This part I am less excited about, as it seems to take the sacred element out of these names somehow. Even within the context of the importance of naming, some elements of spiritual practice and titles are meant to be kept secret, witnessed by Spirit eyes and ears only. To see these titles reached for so easily and without much understanding can distort their value and function. I also recognize the need we as human beings have to feel seen, heard, and understood by our community. If we are lucky, being in a place that is supported and accepted by those around us and appreciated for our contributions. Hence the naming of who we are is an important aspect of our experience. Many of these titles, like Shaman, Healer, Medicine Person, in the traditional and original form, had to be earned. It was the community that named and recognized these people and their contribution to society. The community understood the need and place for the negotiations between people and the Spirit world and who might be best equipped to do so among them. These recognized people were either born with this gift or ability or spent years if not decades of training and dedication. With the arrival of authoritarian religions and colonialism, a shift in who held the power of negotiations in all matters moved into the political arena and out of the hands of the common people. People were stripped of their right to choose their Spirit negotiators, and those who held these sacred roles previously were no longer accepted. Their practices and customs were ostracized and forbidden. The names once held in recognition and respect, banished and feared. I think of this often, when people refer to themselves by some of these names in current times. Do they know the history of this title? The responsibility that came with this role, the initiation and dedication one had to undergo to earn it? I hope the answer is yes.
So, how does all this translate into what we might experience as a person who works with Spirit, tends to the seen and unseen matters, looks into the realm between the living and the dead, and, whatever else it is we do, that we might not speak of. Perhaps, it might show up when somebody asks: “What are you, or what do you call yourself?, in reference to our role or profession. This can either be a question of beautiful curiosity and invitation to feel seen and validated, or a question of locking us into a category or box of whatever the definitions might be for the term. When asked I often want to say “well, that really depends on what your definition is of such a name.” And, depending on how the question is presented, I may be reluctant to answer, because in some cases, this invitation is a condemning one. Surely some of you reading this have learned, when it feels safe to answer such a question. Whenever possible I like to keep it simple. What I am is a reflection of what I believe and what I do. What I do is I work with Spirit. I am an animist. I believe everything is ensouled and connected. Within this understanding, many other names and roles exist and dance comfortably together. Each holding an attribute or remedy for what wants to be seen, remembered, acknowledged, liberated. It took me a long time to arrive at this part of the dance. For many years if not decades I longed for a name to call myself and to be recognized and accepted by my community. Slowly, over the years, my focus has shifted into doing over naming. Not that naming isn’t important, quite the opposite. I honor names and roles deeply, especially of those who came before me in this work, whose dedication and sacrifices were much greater than what I can even comprehend. With that in mind, I would like to be known by the results of my service and whether it created a beneficial change in my community and environment, because at the core, that is what truly matters.
These are my own reflections and feelings on this topic. This is what I have arrived at and this is what feels important and authentic in this moment. Perhaps, it will change in time, most likely so. Time and experiences do that to us; they inspire us to expand and grow. Thank you for reading my pondering. Perhaps you will feel inspired to think about the power of names and naming, as well as the name you call yourself that feels true to you.