Healing - The Shaman

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Healing - The Shaman's Way 
(Norman W. Wilson)

Healing - The Shaman's Way

I will respect the privacy of my clients, for their problems are not disclosed to me that the world may know. Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and death. Above all, I must not play at God.

From a modern version of the Hippocratic Oath




The intent of this book is not to make you a healing practitioner, but rather, to provide you fundamental information that will help you better understand what it is that a shaman does.  I feel this becomes especially important in today’s setting with the increase in the number of persons claiming to be shamans, shamanic practitioners, and shamanic weavers. Second, I fell there are things that one may do to help heal him or herself. These should not be kept secret.

My advice, as always, is to communicate your intent to try a complimentary or supportive healing approach with your medical doctor. Real integrative medicine is in a watershed moment.

If herbs and herbals are suggested for your use, make sure you have no allergies that might be negatively impacted by such medicinal herbal treatment. Know your blood pressure because some suggested shamanic treatments might be an impediment. The herbs I have suggested are quite common, but still, prudence is the best policy to follow.




I do not guarantee that any of the suggestions presented in this book will work, cure any physical or psychological issues, or enhance anyone’s living conditions. Each person must make that choice for her or himself.









Age has no reality except in the physical world. The essence of a human being is resistant to the passage of time. Our inner lives are eternal, which is to say that our spirits remain as

as when we were in full bloom. Think of love as a state of grace, not the means to anything but the alpha and omega. An end in itself.

Gabriel Garcia Marques

Love in the Time of Cholera








I. Origins

II. On the Baskatong

III. On Becoming a Shamanic Healer

IV. The Shaman’s Tools

V. Smudging

VI. The Shamanic Trance

VII. The Realms

VIII. Protocol

IX. Intention

X. The Journey

XI. Crystals and Healing

XII. Essential Oils and Healing

XIII. Vibration

XIII. The Healing: Background

XIV. The Healing: Setting

XV. The Healing: Procedures

XVI. Healing Yourself-The Shaman’s Way

XVII. Dealing with Negativity-The Shaman’s Way


Appendix 1

Appendix 2

Appendix 3

Appendix 4





What is the origin of the word shaman (pronounced SHAY-man or SHA-man)? There is some disagreement over the actual origin of the word. Some scholars claim the word shamanism is so indiscriminately used, it no longer has meaning. And there are those who claim a complete definition is impossible. Two Dutch diplomats who accompanied Peter the Great's emissaries to China during the late Seventeenth Century are credited with first using the term, shaman.

In 1875, the Encyclopedia Britannica published an article by A.H. Sayee, which used the word shaman. Opinion indicates the word is of Tungas origin. More specifically, it appears that the term came from the Manchu-tangu dialect of Siberia, from where we derive our most common usage.

However, even this is not without challenge. Some ethnolinguists claim the word derives from the Chinese scha-man, while others claim it's from the Pali schamana, a term used for a Buddhist monk. There does appear to be common agreement that the word shaman came into modern language from the Sanskrit, sramana.

The word shamanism, which has been around since the 1600s has now become a universally recognized term in Western Culture and refers to a man or woman who fills several roles within the culture. Specifically, two aspects of shamanism have gained popularity: physical and psychological healing. [1]

Because the word shaman has become a part of our popular vocabulary and is understood to be someone who is a healer, I choose to use it. However, it needs to be said that not all Native Americans like the term. It is not a part of the languages of the many Native American tribes.  My use of the word shaman is not intended to be an insult.

In my book Shamanism What It’s All About I briefly talk about my initiation and in my novels, I reveal more of those details. Even though I have been hesitant to claim I am a shaman I suppose now that I am nearing my senior years of life in this dimension, I no longer feel the need to concern myself with the stigma of being “different.” As it says in the Hebrew Bible, “ehyeh asher ehyeh,” which when translated in the King James Version as “I am that I am.”

My initiation into the world of shamanic healing was by a group of the Mi’kmaq. The Mi’kmaq live in Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick, the Gaspe Peninsula of Quebec Province and the state of Maine. And especially by my beloved Elisapie. In English her name is Elizabeth.

The Mi’kmaq are a fascinating indigenous people. Strange as it may seem, these native people gave the French the name nikmaq, meaning “my kind friends.” The early French explorers and settlers, in turn, gave these natives the very name they had been called.  The Mi’kmaq are a part of the larger group called Algonquian.

It is said the Mi’kmaq lived in the forested areas of Canada for over 2,000 years. Some say it is more likely 10,000 years. Even though they were decimated by the Indian Wars and disease during the 18th Century, there are those who did survive and their descendants continue to provide us important linkage in our world today.


Originally, the Mi’kmaq were a society that lived in small villages of about one hundred families. They were a patrilineal group, that is, the son inherited from the father.

The number seven is very important in the Mi’kmaq culture.  They divided their living area into seven distinct areas. A male member of the group represented each area, giving the governing council seven members. Their most powerful “spirit medicine” was made of seven barks and roots.

Admirably, the Mi’kmaq respected and feared the natural world, believing they were dependent upon the good will of their prey, and further, that all animals once held human form. Consequently, the animals were given supernatural powers and created a world of spirits. They believed that the spirit of a dead animal killed during the hunt watched the hunter, making sure that its bones were well treated. The bones of a fish, for example, had to be put back into the stream or lake from which it was taken.

A rare few of the Mi’kmaq developed certain innate abilities that allowed them to surpass all others in their perceptions, skills, and talents. They had special powers. I suspect that they had fine-tuned their ability to tie into what is now called the Non-local mind [2].  Additionally, I believe they were adept at reading auras, thus giving them indications of a person’s health. Such persons often had to pay a high price for being different. These few gifted were often separated from the rest of the tribe, frequently living in deep forested areas, isolated and sometimes feared; coming into the village to seek a mate, or for a sacred ritual they were called upon to preform, to use their magical powers to heal the sick, or to make predictions.

If I recall correctly, my parents met some Mi’kmaqs during their first visit to the Baskatong in 1939. They had gone into the “bush” with another couple for a two-week fishing trip.  I stayed home. We had a “hired girl” who took care of me.  She was never referred to as a servant and never treated in a way other than as part of our family.  I made my first trip into the Canadian bush the spring of 1940. That summer I would turn seven years old. I would spend every summer there for the next fourteen years of my life.

The Baskatong, located in western Quebec Province, Canada, is a man-made lake formed by the construction of Mercier Dam in 1927. The lake has an area of 268 miles. The word wild is a good word to describe the area.

 Sometimes we arrived in the middle of May or early June.  I preferred later in June because there were fewer mosquitoes.  But then, I had nothing to say about the matter.


May was definitely a time for those pesky and nasty insects. They seemed especially attracted to me. An Indian woman named Elisapie who lived in one of the three wigwams gave me a flowering plant to rub on my skin. When I asked where I could find such a plant she pointed to the large field between her wigwam and our log cabin. It was, as I learned later, called horsemint (See photo below). I picked a lot of that plant over the years. I would crush the leaves and flowers in my hand and rub it on my skin. It smelled like Greek Oregano. The mosquitoes did not like its smell and left me alone, for which I was eternally grateful.








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