Dogma, regardless of the school of thought or belief system, is still dogma.
I received this reminder in a very unexpected way over the weekend when I participated in a traditional Native American dance ceremony. The opportunity to dance came across my radar about a month and a half ago in that insistent, nudging way that Spirit so often uses to get our attention. I knew immediately that I needed to participate and experience connection with Source through the magic of this ceremony.
When I completed my registration and had all the introductory conversations with the leaders, I received a long list of specific items I would need in order to participate. I spent weeks assembling the ceremonial tools and attire, carefully following all the directions. That was the first sign of what I would take away from the weekend, but I didn’t see it at the time.
Fast forward to Saturday afternoon, when the group of dancers received instructions from Leadership regarding the extensive list of rules for the ceremony. Throughout the teaching, I heard a lot of “Never do _____,” “Make sure you always ______,” and “You are not ever allowed to ______.” The words “never” and “always” tend to be big red flags in my book, but I absorbed the teaching and took great care to memorize the protocols.
On Sunday, when we held ceremony and danced for about 12 hours, I made sure to follow all the instructions. I walked in the correct direction, I never turned my back a certain way, I always carried my specific items, I used the scripted language when offering prayer, I made sure never to cross certain lines in the space, and I didn’t sing. Out of respect for the privacy around this tradition, that is the only specific detail I will share: the dancers were not allowed to sing. I felt completely taken aback when they told us on Saturday that only certain people sang during the ceremony. For me, sharing my voice and channeling my heart song feels integral to my connection with Spirit. Not allowing me to do so felt like robbing me of one of the sacred tools of my own practice.
In fact, I spent so much time throughout the day making sure to follow directions that my moments of feeling a deep connection with Spirit were rare, and usually when I was not actively dancing. I experienced flares of anger at being instructed in such a rigid system how I was to go about connecting with Spirit, and at one point was completely dumbfounded at the hypocrisy when the Dance Chief called a dedication dance to “burn away all that which does not serve us: bigotry, ignorance, and (you guessed it) dogma.” Fully realizing the irony, I dedicated a dance to eradicating dogma while stifling the urge to blurt out, “Are you kidding me?”
Let me make it clear that I hold nothing against these people or against appreciating tradition for tradition’s sake. I feel so honored for the opportunity and I greatly enjoyed connecting with many welcoming members of the community. I also feel certain that these people understand that there are many paths of Spiritual practice and appreciate that everyone follows their own journey.
That being said, it is very hard for me to accept a tradition that utilizes mechanisms of control and exclusion to promote Spirituality as anything I would ever want to pursue. This holds true for any tradition/school of thought/religion, not just the one I experienced over the weekend. Again, I appreciate these traditions and ceremonies for their cultural value and their importance as precursors for the continually evolving energies we experience on Earth, but telling someone that they have to follow all these rules to connect with Spirit feels very “old paradigm.” (I absolutely loathe the terms “old paradigm” and “new paradigm,” but I feel called to use it here. Hopefully that indicates how strongly I feel about this issue.)
Imagine the case of art: there was a time when artistic dogma dictated that you were only supposed to work with certain media, that portraying people or items in ways other than the prescribed norm was “wrong,” that you were never supposed to mix certain colors or work outside the artistic ideals. Many artists throughout history were considered crazy or profane as they pushed the boundaries of what popular opinion considered “art,” but they were later recognized as revolutionary for their stylistic choices (sometimes during their lifetimes, sometimes not). Eventually, society honored them for breaking out of artistic dogma and creating their work intuitively. Today, artists who receive formal training learn certain techniques and skills, but their instructors encourage them to develop their own style and produce original work that comes from their own internal truth.
So why is Spiritual practice not taught or passed down in the same way? That’s probably the biggest thing that I emphasize with my Reiki students: there are certain techniques and procedures that I teach them, but ultimately I tell them that their practice will continue to evolve over time as they cultivate their own intuition. The only times I offer specific “must do it this way” directions are in health- or safety-related situations that require certain protocol. Otherwise, I am always delighted to hear stories from my students or clients as they share their excitement with me regarding a new development in their intuitive practice. I am always happy to offer mentorship and guidance, or suggest directions for further investigation, but I never tell anyone what their Spiritual practice should look like. In fact, my Spiritual Mentorship page looks like this: http://joyofenergy.com/reikiclasses.html In every class description, I emphasize the importance of cultivating one’s own intuition.
My biggest takeaway from the weekend feels like a very definite affirmation of the intuitive nature of my practice. I hold great appreciation for traditional ceremony and ritual, and now I feel like I can honor it in a different way for its own sake, rather than looking to it as a mechanism for Divine connection. After all, the “practice” part of Spiritual practice is only a means to achieve the goal of connection with Spirit. When practice itself becomes the main focus, the true intent is often lost. This is why, rather than following rigid protocols and dogma developed by humans, I prefer to receive my guidance directly from (the) Source. My practice will continue to evolve as my wealth of intuitive guidance grows, but I know that, as long as I hold the intention of living in service to Self and Spirit, my work will reflect this state of ease and harmony as I work directly with the Divine.
Eagle Song 