I Am A Stag Of Seven Tines, I Am A Wide Flood On A Plain

Jensen who's never, as far as I know, studied any kind of witchcraft, provides a pretty good description of what happens to mystics, what happens at the beginning of shamanic experiences. The veils are now perceptibly thinner. What do you see when you open yourself?


I see Indians dancing. I see fires. I see days and nights and years of celebrations and mournings. I see people making love. I see the same for all kinds of animals, all kinds of plants. I see them living, dying, loving, hating. I see generation after generation of human, generation after generation of cedar, generation after generation of porcupine, generation after generation of ant, generation after generation of grasses, mosses, generation after generation of fire.

And suddenly I see even more. I see generation after generation of muse, dreamgiver, demon, walking back and forth between worlds. I see geese and martens and wrentits moving between worlds. I see fires moving between worlds. I see humans moving between worlds. I see the living and the dead.

I see all these worlds being renewed by this intercourse, this movement across borders porous and impenetrable and permeable and impermeable and breathing and alive as skin. I see these worlds winding and unwinding, tangling and untangling like the lovers they are, and I see moments in time, too, winding and unwinding, tangling and untangling like the lovers that they are, too. These worlds, moments, they are not one, they are not two. They are lovers, like any other.

Derrick Jensen in Songs of the Dead.

Picture found here.