 |
|
COYOTE ARCHIVE
Dick Prosapio aka, Coyote is a member of the TMC Advisory Council, ceremonialist, psycho-
therapist (ret.), author, leader of men's experiential workshops, & Co-founder of The Foundation for Common Sense. He lives with his wife and daughter in Stanley, NM
For more info about Dick Prosapio, visit his web-site:
Spirit/ Earth Path
E-mail:
|
|
by
Dick Prosapio
One of the things a traditional shaman must do is to "die to one world to enable entry into another". This is accomplished in various ways; hallucinogenic drugs, dance, chanting, drumming, breathing in a prescribed way, self induced trance, fasting, etc. The purpose for this kind of journey is to gain a new perspective on a given situation and/or to facilitate the healing of some wound, usually emotional/spiritual.
The broadest definition of a shaman I have seen is this; "One who can help others see the world differently." Researcher Joan Halifax came up with that in recognition that there are shaman in every culture, even in mechanized, media-fried America. Very few of these belong to a recognized tribe. This is the kind of work I do with intuitive readings, dance, sweat lodges, vision quests, my writing, workshops, counseling, ceremony.
Some time ago we had a huge upheaval in our family. Actually my old family as I must define it now. We, Elizabeth, our two kids and I, were visiting my middle daughter in San Antonio and the four of us were sitting in the living room with my daughters husband. He and Elizabeth were discussing our newest granddaughter and talking about how fearful she had become at age two. Elizabeth related that all her kids did the same thing around that age. I said; "Yeah, before that their brains are just kind of stupid about life."
KABOOM! (This was the sound of my daughters husband going ballistic.) "Don't you dare call my daughter stupid!" "I'm not saying she's stupid." I said, "I'm just saying it's like Selena (our youngest) here. Last year her brain was math stupid, this year it's all going to hook up. Right Selena?" "Right!" she said with assurance. "Don't EVER use that word with a child!" he continued, "And don't EVER use that word in this house!" and with that, he pounded out of the room.
To put it mildly, we were stunned. We looked at each other and decided it would be best to give him some space and time to cool off so we left the house and came back about three hours later to maybe get things cleared up, to apologize for using a word that obviously had a very big charge on it, etc.
We returned to find the God of Chaos reigning! Daughter was fleeing with granddaughter, son-in-law was stalking in and out of the house with "ATTITUDE!" writ large. While we had been gone what I had said had been changed to; "Your daughter is just stupid!" coupled with other embellishments. No amount of explaining on our part was allowed.
So, we packed our bags and left. Not much choice. What fueled the explosion? First of all, my son-in-law had a terrible childhood, emotionally abused in spades by his father and others. That's for starters. He has done no emotional healing work of any consequence on any of that. Add to the mix the several bottles of beer he had put away since breakfast prior to kaboom, plus those consumed the night before (it was his birthday) and top that with the stress, denied by everyone in the family, of living with a two year old who had undergone open heart surgery about ten months previously to correct a bad valve.
Why I didn't see the mine field was a product of my own "stupidity". My blindness was further enhanced by the fact that I trusted the guy.
The outcome of all of this is that I, and we, have been and are now persona non grata in San Antonio and in Chicago where my oldest daughter lives. I am, once again, cast in the role of "bad-dad". On the surface of this story is the word "stupid", selected randomly out of my own humor bank and used without pre-censoring thought. With friends, I don't usually pre screen everything I say with the idea in mind that it might be dangerous to use a wrong word.
But underneath this episode was another story, much more complex, subtle and destructive. And I didn't know that story. What it was all about is something I can only speculate about.
Three days passed, and feeling constantly upset and swinging from anger
to sadness, I called my oldest daughter and from her heard some of the same language and descriptions of me that my son-in-law had used in his
subsequent attack, one which took place when I made an attempt to set
things right just before we gave up and left for home. All these years, decades of time, I had thought everything was just fine between she and I. So much for fantasy.
As I awakened to the reality of how I was really perceived by my old family what I discovered was this; all of these years I have continued to hold on to my guilt about the way I destroyed my first marriage and injured my kids. This "holding on" was more subtle than mea culpa feelings and statements of deep regret. Because of my deep sense of having failed and betrayed them I was allowing my kids, in particular my oldest daughter, to continue to hook me into "games", the outcome of which always put me in a very one-down position. Bad dad then, bad dad
now, bad dad forever!
Never mind all the years of work on myself and the changes I had made to become a decent man, a good husband and a conscious father. The "Bad dad" I deeply believed myself to be, wouldn't die. Wouldn't die because I wouldn't let it. After all, and this is what dwelled somewhere beneath my awareness, I didn't deserve to be seen as anything else! With Elizabeth's help I finally realized that there was literally nothing I could do to influence this thinking in my old family. Anything I did, and everything I do, had been and is seen by them through the wounds of that earlier life...because none of the participants in this dance have ever been willing to be done with it.
Well, I'm done with it now so that I, at least, can move on. I have to die to my old family.
I realized it fully one day soon after the "kaboom" episode when my oldest daughter didn't respond to an email in which I had told her I was not going to play the usual game: the, obviously-I'm-wrong-because-you-believe-I-am. I felt in that moment that a deathing was happening inside of me. At the same time I knew I was moving more fully into a deeper emotional place with my new family. I hadn't even realized that I was holding back from them. Holding back hoping to somehow to suture up the old wounds with my original kids that we could be a family again. Problem is; I can't do that. Not alone and not in reality.
So; I am in another world now, and I see clearly for the first time. Now maybe everyone can take on the responsibility of their own healing. I know that this will be a long process for me, punctuated by my anger over feelings of betrayal, and deep sadness over the loss of my fantasy about how I thought things were. How I wished them to be. I am, more than ever, fully in my life as it is today...and I can be who I wanted to be all along; good dad.
So..I had just finished writing this piece and I get this card from my oldest daughter, "I don't know anyone else whose dad is a shaman, or has a tipi in the yard or a kiva for that matter. Their dads don't seem to have found the fountain of youth either, nor are they busy raising three young girl/women. Nope, you've never been a 'traditional dad'...but that's why I'm so special."
Through my teary eyes I tell you, miracles DO happen.
Dick Prosapio ©2001
ARCHIVE
|
|
 |
