racism

Animism is not New Age

May 14, 2018

The New Age is “an eclectic group of cultural attitudes … that are adapted from those of a variety of ancient and modern cultures, that emphasize beliefs outside the mainstream“.*

It is rooted in the Western counter-culture movement of the 1960s, and began as a search for alternative approaches to spirituality and health. As such, it shares some features of animism and is often confused with animism by both animist practitioners and followers of the New Age.

The New Age has no universal rules, hierarchy or source texts, just like animism. It also recognises the value of nature and intuition, and it can’t be defined as a religion, philosophy or life style, again like animism.

But animism is not the New Age.

Animism is ancient and inherent to humanity. We know that our most ancient ancestors behaved in ways that we now call animistic, and that children will create animist practices of their own volition when given space to do so.

Whereas the New Age is modern, only a few decades old, and derived from Western European rejection of monotheistic laws and mores; not so much reclaimed as created.

Animism is practical and experiential.

It’s focus is on finding the methods and ideas that help in a specific situation, rather than on following a particular belief. It embraces experiences, even when they challenge previous ideas, and is therefore flexible.

The New Age is focused on belief or aesthetic over practicality, as can be seen in the anti-vaccine movement and the proliferation of New Age marketing. It also often requires ongoing access to teachers, equipment and events in order to engage with it’s practices, in contrast to animism which can be practiced in isolation without external teaching or certification.

And animism belongs to everyone, regardless of ancestry.

The New Age has been commodified into an exclusive product for a select few. Participation in the New Age movement is highly segregated by class, language and race, because of it’s roots within collonialism, racism, appropriation, capitalism and the romanticisation of non-Western cultures.

Animism, on the other hand, is far older than collonialism; and it requires that we examine our prejudices in order to be effective. It is available to all people, without needing them to appropriate from other cultures, because it’s ancient enough that everyone has their own, local heritage of animism. And because of how personal and inherent animism is, it has so far escaped commodification.

In a way, the New Age is a modern, Western approximation of animism.

Born of a yearning for spiritual sovereignty, nature and freedom, it speaks of our need for the methods and maps that help us navigate the web of our relationships. But animism goes far deeper, and is much more accessible, than the New Age movement. When we reclaim animism for ourselves, we can step beyond the need for it’s facsimile.

Intersections

May 13, 2018

Animism is all about relationships, and so the idea of intersectionality gels really well with my “thing” – because intersectionality is all about how various powers, priviledges and vulnerabilities intersect, ie: relate.

The hooha about Junot Diaz this week was a big thinking point for me that highlighted the complex relationships between victim and perpetuator, oppressed and oppressor.

From an animist perspective, duality is a con.

We’re tricked into believing that there’s this push and pull of extremes: right/wrong, him/her, black/white, coffee/tea. It’s a mindset that allows us to turn anything into a battle; if I’m here, there’s got to be a there, and we’ve got to be opposed.

Duality likes straight, obvious lines. It likes rigid definitions and identities. It likes certainty and solidity.

Whereas animism values change, chaos, muddiness, paradox and yes, intersections.

So, about Junot Diaz; he’s a beautiful example of how we carve the world up into these dual categories like oppressed and oppressor, and this carving up serves to disempower not just those we feel persecuted by, but also ourselves. If to be a victim, we have to have a perfect rap sheet; when to be infallible becomes the gatekeeper of who gets to be empathized with, who gets to be wounded, we all lose.

We exist within a web of power and pain.

We all exist within it, and we all have the oppressed and the oppressor within us. We all have the ability to oppress, to be violent, to be cruel and to de-humanise others.

But when we refuse to acknowledge this, we begin the cycle of blame and shame which silences all victims and survivors, not just those we think aren’t sympathetic.

We are all losers.

I’m mixed race; within my body intertwines the DNA of collonisers and the collonised. My process of coming to terms with this has been long, and it’s been a process of exploring relationships and intersectionality. I cannot claim the identity of either, so I must embrace my ambiguity and paradox.

To do this, I’ve had to look deeply into my own violence, selfishness, greed and banal obliviousness. I’m both oppressor and oppressed; I participate in the culture that denigrates me, while attempting to undermine it. I am a paradox, and so are we all.

Before you exempt yourself – do you have no bigotry at all within you?

White women are some of the most dangerous racists. Black men oppress black women on a regular basis. People of colour are some of the most vitriolic against the LGBT+ community worldwide. Disabled people can be racist, misogynistic homophobes. How do you feel about Muslims? Jews? Immigrants?

Can you honestly say you don’t have problematic beliefs about someone?

Can you truthfully say you’ve never excused a fellow white/black/queer/disabled/etc person of their bigotry, violence or assholery?

We are none of us excused from the cruelty of being human.

Recognising this is the basis of compassion, but also of change. Because until we can relate honestly to our own perpetuation of the web of oppression that keeps us all down, that web will continue to inform and damage us.

Nothing makes the violence of Junot Diaz ok, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a victim.

People can be both – I think we’re all both.

As a society, we have to become comfortable with the paradox of that and figure out a way of dealing with it. We also have to recognise that this is hard, hard work, and that it’s harder for the most damaged and vulnerable.

It’s an asshole move to demand kindness from people getting their teeth kicked in on a daily basis; it’s cruel to refuse relief to those at the bottom of the heap until everyone gets it. We have to keep inching forward; and we have to recognise that some of us have more capacity for the work than others.

But the work has to recognise this complex paradox of intersections, not just of oppression but of perpetuation.

As a society, we have to keep a space for people to be complex and paradoxical.

As for Junot Diaz, who might he have been if he hadn’t been doubly victimised? We can’t know; many, many people are abused as children and don’t grow up to be abusers, just as many, many people aren’t abused but become abusers. Abuse doesn’t excuse abuse, ever.

But I have compassion for Junot Diaz, because I know that could have been me; there is no fundamental difference between us. We aren’t different species.

He’s one more victim of the cruel web we are all caught in, and my wish for him is the same as my wish for all of us – to be free.

Animism is not a religion

May 7, 2018

Religion is defined as “the belief in and worship of a superhuman controlling power, especially a personal God or gods” or “a particular system of faith and worship”.*

The word religion is relatively modern. It was first used by the Romans, with the meaning of an obligation or duty to the gods and the strict observance of Roman religious laws. It came to mean the life led under Christian monastic vows in Middle English, being inherited by Roman Christianity from the earlier, pagan, Roman belief system.

As we all know, Roman Christianity spread throughout Europe, decimating and appropriating indigenous European beliefs and animism, before replicating itself around the world like a virus through Roman-romanticising empire building, collonialism and economic conquest.

As such, it’s not appropriate to apply the word religion to practices and concepts outside of modern Western experience, and most certainly not appropriate to backdate it’s use into our ancient past, to the practices and spiritual experiences of our distant European ancestors.

To apply religion in this way is a function of collonialism.

The idea that we can define and restrict the language around practices, beliefs, experiences and thoughts of other peoples, other cultures – even our own ancestors. This colonial attitude stems from an arrogance and racism that believes modern Western culture is more important or better, historically, than those of other places and times.

Our ancestors didn’t share this same concept of religion, and neither do many other cultures around the world today, particularly endangered, indigenous cultures like the Aboriginals of Australia and the remaining Native American tribes. To force the spiritual and world-views of these non-Western cultures into a Western concept and language is another way that oppression is perpetuated. In a way, it is also an oppression of ourselves; an oppression that has been perpetuated for millennia, beginning initially with our own ancestors.

Animism, therefore, doesn’t fit the definition of the word religion.

Practicing animists don’t have to believe in or honour, worship or acknowledge any God or Gods; practice can be humanistic, pagan, monotheistic or change depending on the situation. Many animists the world over experience some form of great spiritual being or awareness, but just as many others do not. There are no rules in animism.

And because there are no rules, there is no overarching system of animist practice. There are no universal animist laws, practices, beliefs, authorities, sources, organisations or experiences; animism changes over time and within space, and even within an individual depending on need. This fluidity and openness means that animism cannot be called a system: “a set of principles or procedures according to which something is done; an organized scheme or method“.*

But if it’s not a religion, what is animism?

Animism is fluid, personal and contextual; it’s practice and experience is dependent on the people, time, place and intent of it’s use. It can appear similiar to Western religions, or folk magic, or philosophy, or mysticism, or art, or any number of other ways that people make sense of the world.

Where it is universal is it’s adaptability. Animism is consistently open to change and need. Like other fundamental expressions of humanity, it’s power is in it’s personal and direct usage. Animism is a fundamental facet of human nature, unlike any other, larger than any language, culture or category.