This is an ongoing story about a mermaid.

I’m just a mermaid from a barrier island with Medicine and Wyrd people in the family tree branches, royalty on a few of the others (not lying), and a famous preacher somewhere in the middle (that is also truthful). I didn’t want to turn to sea foam without rescuing the family lore. I also had been very wounded spiritually, emotionally, psychologically throughout my life. That was how this blog and podcast began. I needed to talk it out to heal, and there was no one to listen but empty air.

I have been diving into family and ethnic lore, supernatural hijackings, and remembering more and more as I do this. I’ve come to realize that all was not as it was made to seem growing up. There were lies. I prefer the truth.

I walk a shaman‘s path, the way of the pawwaw. This means that I work with spirits.

Why pawwaw…?

Because the Midewiwin (the formal Medicine Society) and those under the shamanic umbrella aren’t necessarily the same thing. No matter what those not in the know try to tell you, the shamanic arts were alive and well in the Northeast and other parts of America when the settlers came. We were divided into two types: dreamer and sorcerer—or horizontal and vertical, to use Stephen Hugh-Jones’s terminology.

I’m a tribal member, but the truth is I can’t be the only one who found the usual doors closed to me because I was the wrong tribe. I’m Norse, German and Anglo-Saxon as well. Their words have been lost for all time, although the fact that they did have some practices is evident in what little remains for us to learn from. I hope I’m not the only one who realizes that core shamanism, or neo-shamanism, is good for a start, but our roots call for something more.

I don’t believe in gatekeeping. I poked, prodded, looked into Proto-Algonquian theory, and chose it from pa·wa·wa, the old root word for the dreamer, and metew-, the old root word for the sorcerer who actively works with spirits. You can be one. You can be the other. Or you can be both. I stepped backwards through language theory and chose mete-pawwaw… but pawwaw for short. It’s a term from the old ways that I hope will give the spirits and our visions an anchor to come back home.

However, the word shaman still forms on my lips because for all the old ways are under the so-called shamanic umbrella, the debate over the use of the word “shaman” has not convinced me to drop the word my father used frequently. “Shaman” has been in our language for 900 years. It’s changed meaning as words do. It’s a loan word, not a cultural appropriation, and for many the concept remains alive and well. But also, as I am learning the Ulcha way of traditional shamanism, it’s the word most apt from time to time. Whatever the name, the spirits get involved.

To me, the spirits are just like you, me, and your dog. They’re people and animals. They come from their own eco-system. I don’t *see* them as separate from you and me just because they’re made differently. I have my prejudices. That isn’t one of them.

I encourage hobgoblins under my stove and honor the ancestors. I have a famous (or infamous, depending on who you are) spirit-spouse. I have worked with mountain rock spirits, Odin, Thor, Freya, Frigg, House Mengloth, Archangel Michael, Tlazolteotl, Apollo, celestial dragons, a certain salmon, a gigantic frog spirit, and others. I have no kindred to do ritual work with, and my direct way of meeting the spirits unsettles people anyway. When I choose to take on something, I approach as I hope best suits to the matter. I’m interested in getting the work done, not staying inside a metaphysical gated community.

Through my journey I came to understand that the gods are not “gods” in the way we’ve been taught. There are no aspects of gods. There are only people and parasites who pretend. We’ll encounter a small spirit or a parasite before we’ll encounter the ones called gods. Woe be unto you if you can’t tell them apart. I have become the most ironic of atheists.

I live in the Sun, and I stand on the Moon.

I have followed the soul of my mate through all of history’s suns. I’m not saying I’m a goddess, nor am I saying I’m special. I’m saying this is my spiritual truth. It has been an incredible joy when, stepping back into academia as a way to learn more about my path and family history, I found steps like mine across history. However…

I firmly believe that academic study and personal spirituality are separate journeys. One can be a tour guide, but the other walks the territory.

It’s possible to have a spiritual or religious path while writing material that can further mankind’s place and understanding – but only if you set aside your rose-colored glasses. It’s a must to separate your belief from the facts. Too often scholars did not do that in the past, and the damage has been nearly irreparable.

I also find it extremely hypocritical that a devout Christian (example only) can approach a scholarly topic that may or may not be related to their spiritual practice, but someone like myself who touches the unseen world is labelled unreliable. That to be taken seriously, we must hide our personal approach to the cosmos. That others like me have lost their academic standing when their proven finds were, in fact, inspired by their gifts. (Case in point: the woman who found a hidden Bible in monastery ruins but was ruined herself when it came out that a ghost told her where to look. Who cares, if the item was legit?!?)

My spirit partner has never “taught” me academic information. He knows that I have to find the academic answers for myself, that I have a drive to back up my data with references and evidence. I’m not playing fantasy role-play here. What research work I do is serious, for all I’m crafty with the way I tell it.

I can’t say I’m going to make a difference, but in all things that I have hands to lend to I aim to try. I will pitch pull your ills if I can. I will write about that issue if it’s productive. I will write that poem, I will sing that song, and I will continue to put out pages for my comic books.¹

I’m also an ordained minister, which means I could officiate a wedding. I suppose. I mean, there’s a list of things I’m legally allowed to do: Officiate weddings, vow renewals, commitment ceremonies, baptisms, baby blessings, funerals, memorial services, provide spiritual counseling, prayer, and guidance for individuals… Lead a congregation, start a house church, or run a non-profit religious organization. And I can offer my services to hospitals, hospices, or workplaces.