All posts by tasara

Pan – Cernunnos

I caught his eye, he smiled at me
and we both knew that everything had fallen apart.

He could no longer be my god
and when I was honest with myself,
he never really was.

I never really liked his version of the wild hunt
for I was only good at being hunted
and the grandmothers shut me down on that long ago
after they tired of watching me die.
Again and again,
only to wake up alone,
again and again.

So this god, he reeled on,
in his fancy way, twirling with the ladies
and spinning his magic through the trees.
So much fun,
so much stress leaving me as the melodies faded.

My fingers touched the pool.
Silence blossomed.
My every bone toned with the music of the night sky.

And through the near branches, the face of another came,
eyes of wisdom awaiting my reply.

I invited him into my camp
and we told each other stories.

He of his sons and me of my poetry.
He of the green-gold gleam deep in the forest
and me of my hollow bird’s bones
a secret channel into the light high, high above.

Together we laughed at the oddities of life
and cried with the beauty of the same.

He spoke of the dead and me of the very, very brave
while his horns climbed into the darkness like a spider web
melting into the trees above us.

We shared the drink of friendship
and he was no longer a god to me,
but a friend who brought me medicine when I needed it
and accepted mine with joy.

2009 Tasara Jen Stone

Image created with AI by Adobe Firefly


There in the night creeps a friendly panther. She knows where she is going and never speaks to anyone. She melts into the shadows like dark butter and when she is around usually you do not know it. She is a listener and she…she feels with her blood, which steams sometime when she is excited. What does she get excited about? The curve of things, the places between doorways where there is no one standing, the glint of light reflecting off the windows, or pouring out from the corner pub onto the alleyway.

Panther, she moves from place to place with private grace. She eats misfortune. What? She eats the debris of people’s troubles that she finds scattered across her path. She eats them up. And then she roars and heads back into the forest to contemplate what she has learned from the trouble she ate.

She is not a service. She doesn’t care. She is just curious and not interested in, in…well speaking. When she is content, she hums and her eyes sparkle green. And then the rest of the forest becomes more condensed in some way. More…tight and together with itself. Sleeping creatures smile with the welcome rush of comfort.

Go to the forest and find the panther in her nook on the low, long tree branch. She will take you to places that only you can find with her. She will lead you to your heart in the thick of wild branches, deep pools, muddy patches and under the ledges. Go there and lie where she leads. Your bones will condense. Your body will drink from the earth and your blood will steam.

She likes the sway in her journeys, the way to get there, the curling into dark crevices. She likes to remind you of your own. She’ll sniff you out and when you are looking for her, engage.

2008 Tasara Jen Stone

[image generated by AI in Adobe Firefly]

Faith. Joy. Hope.

JOY is something that rises from within, an inner fountain, clear, rushing upwards. It is our inherent response to our connection with oneness. A burst of joy can make us giddy.

When we HOPE, we prop a window open to a brighter place so that light streams into our dark world. It does not call to any specific outer force or being.

FAITH is opening oneself completely, to allow the Spirits of Kindness and their whole ecosystem to flood in and perform their loving work. An act of faith is taking a seemingly unreasonable action with the knowledge of forces in play.

DEVOTION is love fest of mutual devotion between oneself and the Spirits of Kindness. It is an event, a conscious practice.

These wonderful things may be a natural human experience but they don’t come easily for many of us when living in this world. What I mean is, you are not alone if you can’t relate.

Joy is something I knew nothing about until I was in my forties. No wonder I was so annoyed with the “fluffy bunny” spiritualists of the time. They drove me mad. I remember one time I confessed to a new friend over the phone that I was spiraling, and if I kept heading in that direction, that the spiral would lead me to suicidal ideation. She reacted severely. (This was the second time in my life I was yelled at for talking about suicide).

She angrily shouted, “Everyone is at the party, where there is a well of light and joy. Why can’t you join us there?”

When I finally cleared enough trauma to feel the natural phenomenon of joy, I experienced it as a fountain. It is a song. I know I am happy when I catch myself singing.

Hope is something I always had, but in a more tragic sort of way. Like someone lost in an endless landscape of despair just crying inside that things must get better some day.

Not like today when it feels more like a choice – a responsibility even. I take this action and it clears my metaphysical environment. Life must go on.

Devotion and faith? Well as an ex-Catholic, those two have been tough ones. After my particular fall from the church (and it was a fall) I vowed to never again swallow, hook line and sinker another philosophy. I would have my own thoughts. So it was ten years into my pagan and shamanic practices until the topic of faith and devotion started opening up for me.

It started with my shamanic teacher in the early 00s. I almost left Janine’s classes because she was really quite so fluffy bunny. She referred to her spirits as ‘her team ‘ and smiled a lot about it. But she also showed up to class in her sweatpants and T-shirt unlike other teachers who dressed like they were going out on the town. I thought that part was cool. I realized she was genuine and I watched her in quiet awe. I didn’t get it but I loved it. She really cared about me too.

After she died, I came across a musician who performed kirtan in the most sublime way. And her voice is gorgeous. The call and response, the heightened sense that came from the practice. I volunteered to perform my light projections for her shows for free so I could support her vocation.

I think of what a devotional practice looks like in shamanism. Journeying for the simple purpose of spending time with our friends on the other side. Mediumship, inviting the benevolent beings in for a moment of time. And of course, repetitive praise chanting in the traditional way.

There can be momentary devotion without faith in the day-to-day.

On Monday morning, I went to the  beach in this dark, dark season of wet. I went to clear my head after too much time in my cave applying for jobs and stressing over the fact that I have six weeks of unemployment left. Walking across the foot bridge over the railroad tracks, I saw a whacky woman coming towards me. She had a crazy colorful hat and she was carrying a little boom box that she was singing to.

She came closer and I recognized her. A few years ago I met her by the same water. She was singing and because I missed my music jam, I stopped. I had my flute, as always, and played for her. We sang together. She told me that she came every morning to sing to The Lord. I recognized beauty in her devotion and loved that about her even though I would never sing to The Lord.

She is a small, elderly woman from somewhere in Asia. As she walked towards me on the foot bridge, we exchanged greetings and I said, “I remember you. We sang together.”

She remembered and laughed and said in that loud joyful way that the Vietnamese women do when they greet you at the nail salon, “How are you? “

Without any warning I almost burst out crying. I said, “I am not doing good.”

“Not good. Not good why?”

“I cannot find a job.”

Well, this elder gave me a good, long lecture about faith. She told me about how when her husband died and she didn’t think she would make it. How things worked out.

She insisted. “You have to have faith! You have to have faith and the Lord will take care of you!”

And she said, literally three or four times, “But you have to believe it for it to happen. You have to believe!”

I thanked her and asked her name. Song. Of course. Song.

As soon as I turned away to walk down the hill, I was bawling. It felt so good to cry. So good. How do we make it through life without this delicious release?

This Imbolc morning, I went to the lake to play my flute. The crows were moving downtown, having left the Bothell roost. The sky was filled with their river of raucousness which appeared and faded, horizon to horizon. I played screechy sounds to them but then relaxed into a tune. I played both high and low flutes and when I was done, I saw a pattern in the clouds like two curved brush strokes with an opening in the middle, swooping down to the land. I turned to the water and look at the rafts of ducks in the distance. Two small groups fluttered into the air, outwards, landing on the water again. They left an area of clear water in the middle. The scene was like a door I could just glide through into a life that was easy, with fertile ground. 

I looked up to the sky again and I knew what faith was.

Tasara Jen Stone

Stay Awake in Times of Crisis

There is a cry going up in the world for humanity.
There is a cry for justice, for a cease fire, for accountability.
A cry for seeing each other as the precious gifts we all are.

This cry is a collective song being sung from every corner of the earth. Join in this song, this cry, to make it louder, to be nourished by the communion of it, to save the soul of humanity.

Do not hide from the news to preserve your sanity. Turn up the glorious song of freedom and let it fuel you. Sing it wherever you can, to your friends, your family and to your representatives. There is never a time to not shine. Let your shock, dismay and all your emotions about what is happening in the world fuel your next endeavor. Will it be prayer? Will it be art? Will it be conversation? A long-planned or unexpected life change?

We must be whole. We cannot allow ourselves to become compressed any longer. The world is insane, but that does not mean we have to be. It is best for Mother Earth when we are in rich relationship with her, when we allow the Spirits of Kindness to nurture us, to allow inspiration grow within us. It does not do anyone any good to not be well, even when others are devastated.

We must shine. Each of us has something different and unique to contribute to this song of the world. When we are in our personal song, others can hear it. They are lifted and in this, can hear their own song. We must shine for the world.

We must be big, not small. When we are in our true light, there is room for everyone. We cannot allow outside forces to dictate the psychic environment we live in. Instead of suffering, we can bring our own environment to the common space.

This is a form of spiritual activism.

For those of you who have been following me over the years, you may have noticed my own long struggle to get back to my service to you. I’ve suffered under oppressive work situations, oppressive situations of my own making, physical ailments, fatigue and I earned a master’s degree while working full time. Just like you, I can feel like I am underwater, but I continue.

Right now I am applying for jobs in a new career because the field I have been in has been toxic for me. Once I have made this shift, I will be able to devote my energies to my calling again, informed by my studies in Instructional Design. My soul does not turn away from my master plan even when I forget it myself.

My new offerings will be geared towards those who are on the sacred path for the long haul. The main banner will be spiritual activism. What is spiritual activism? How do you define it? For me, my spiritual activism is helping you find what you are called to do in this world and assist you in creating a manageable scope for it. Also, when we explore and understand our own creative process, it is much easier to allow it to happen without self-judgement. There will be some hybrid offerings, (online/in person).

Thank you for hanging in there with me. Holding circle is my happy place and I am so looking forward to being there again with you. Hopefully, in the meantime, I can provide a little bit of inspiration.

Much love,
Tasara Jen Stone

(Inspired by watching and listening to activists from all over the world on ‘Democracy Now!‘.)

A Shamanic Response to Atrocities in the Middle East

This list may have grown if you come back to it later.

Hello my friends. I’m sure you have been following the heartbreaking stories coming out of the Middle East. I will not repeat them here but it is clear that we are witnessing war crimes, millions displaced, families decimated and in it all, no mercy. Both Palestinians and Jews are calling for a stop to the violence.

As a shamanic person, there is much we can do. If you truly believe that we are all connected, that we are all one in some invisible way, your actions have certain impact, just as a person’s silence or non-doing allows forces of destruction to continue on undisturbed

Here are five things you can do:

Psychopomp Ceremony, Sunday, October 22nd at 2-3:30pm

I will be hosting an online ceremony to assist the souls of the dead who are ready and willing, in crossing over into the light.

Psychopomp is not a safe practice to do on your own without training.
In our ceremony, we will be inviting the psychopomp spirits to do all the work while we hold space and bear witness. Please register at this link.
– Virtual sacred space via Zoom will be open at 1:45.
– No one will be admitted after 2:05pm.
– The meeting will not be recorded.
– Please prepare sacred space before you sign in and be ready to work.

If you know me personally and have been to my home in the past, you are more than welcome to come in person. Let me know if you are. Bring some snacks and we can have community time afterwards.

It is my view that psychopomp also relieves pressure on the world at large. The more unrest souls we have in the physical plane, the more intrusions, overshadowing and possession we experience. This affects human motivations and actions, including some of our world leaders.

Personal/Group Shamanic Journey for Healing

There is a way to assist through your work with the spirits and still honor the ethical boundaries of the free will of all beings. The method was developed by a small group of shamanic practitioners who met in retreat and worked with the spirits over a long period of time. It is spelled out in a little book called Shamanism without Borders which can be found here in e-book or print:…/shamanism-without…/

The organization that hosts free, online shamanic ceremonies to aid global catastrophes is here:

Journey to Comfort Those Trapped Under the Rubble in Gaza

Here is another thing you can do immediately (10/17/2023).

Journey to your helping spirits and ask them to ask the helping spirits of the 1000 people trapped under rubble in the Gaza strip to comfort them, to lessen their terror, to give them some faith and hope. Whether they are about to perish or be rescued, they have a great journey in front of them. Lessening the trauma is greatly needed.

Using Music and Dance

You can use dance, repetitive rhythm, drumming, chanting, fluting, strumming to express your own feelings about the situation into the world. Any sort of healing involves getting energy to move and that includes energy in your own body.

Know that you are not alone. Hear the grief, anger frustration of the collective and join the song. Feel the togetherness. After expressing your own, perhaps bring your songs of comfort, kinship and love into the collective.

All shamanic cultures are very, very expressive in their practices, until of course, state sponsored persecution of shamans. Lying down still and silent to journey is not normal. We engage and invest our physical energy into our work and it comes to life in powerful ways.

Write to your Representatives

Many of us overlook or belittle the small act of writing to our representatives. What can an email do? A lot! Our representatives need backing from their constituents to make their voices stronger in legislature.

You can look up your representatives here:
And here:

“Never again” means “Never again” for all peoples. As I heard someone say, the hardest part of being human is staying human when under circumstances like these.

What Other Ways to Support Healing and Balance in Israel/Gaza Strip are You Practicing?

Please, put your ethical (not interfering with the free will of others) shamanic ways in the comments so others can benefit.

Thank you for all the work you do for healing in your own life, your family and your community.

Blessed Be,
Tasara Jen Stone

Listen to the Spirits of Kindness

Those whispers urging you to go for a walk, to eat better food, knock off the sugar, those nudges to call that person you’ve been neglecting, to turn off the screen and get up off the couch…

Do you see flashes of your favorite park sometimes?
Do you miss the rush of wind in the trees?
Do you truly believe in the spirits? Are you listening?

As a shamanic journeyer, do you ever feel a pull to journey?
I dreamed recently that a totem was asking me to let her in. She told me my life would be so, so-oo much easier if I did. So, the next day I found a candle molded in her form and placed it on my work-from-home desk. I invited her and thanked her presence into the stress of my life, and my whole outlook on life shifted like magic. I am so grateful. I will mark this. I will remember.

If you have been trained in shamanic journey and want your relationship with the Spirits if Kindness to deepen, you need to listen when they are trying to get your attention. Let them in. Engage. It takes very little time. This authentic communication will always spark something good. Change will ripple through your tapestry.

The spirits miss you. They don’t judge, and they are not mad. They just miss you.

The spirits are telling me to say to you,

And don’t skimp when you come to visit us! Creating the sacred space and tapping into your center is more important than anything else. Use repetitive rhythm, not music. Cover your eyes so you can go deep. Then draw out your journey into the mundane by journaling so you don’t miss the juicy parts. Take action as soon as possible if action is asked for in the journey.

The spirits say,

It doesn’t matter what you journey on, all the questions lead to the same answers.

They are saying,

It’s easy to get overwhelmed and caught up in the methods and spiritual books and tools. Keep it simple and your practice will be clear and strong.

So that’s my public service announcement. There is always help on the other side, even when we don’t feel like listening. Give it a shot and see what happens.

Blessed Be,

The Spirits of Kindness

Come to me and I will show you the shape of your question.

I will bring you to the landscape etched in the sand between us.
I will lead you into plunging water and through endless caves.
We will fly the wide sky together
and I will whisper upon you.

There may be a hut between the stars
or a burrow at the base of a tree.
You may slide down roots to ancient realms
or glisten alongside frogs under moonlight.

I will ask you hard questions.
I will draw your truth out of the depths.
I will apply salve to your wounds.
I will shelter you, kiss you, surround you in my embrace.
I will eat you and see you returned whole.

I will send you signals when it is time to come again.

I will do all these things.
I need to do all these things.

But you must come.


Learn to journey at an upcoming August 2023 workshop.


Hey there. Thought I’d add a link to my site of the few recordings I have of my storytelling.

Here it is as well. If you click on the “YouTube” words it will open it in a browser window so you can see on the right a list of all the stories.

If there no link in the email, click Comment and it will bring you to it.


Letting Go

It’s no great effort. It’s no effort at all.

It is letting other forces drift on, glide through if need be.
It is a sense of whisper movements, not sticking, as our gentle core,
more or less condensed, more or less whole,
remains in its own rhythmic movement,
the movement of life itself.

Melodies may pass near, around or in concert,
even altering our flow, but we always return.

We are made of our own song.