I’ve walked my spiritual path, consciously, for a decade or so now, and animal totems have always been a strong part of it. My fascination with animals predates even that, however, especially media and literature portraying them in a spiritual or mystical light. It was no surprise to me that when I started to strengthen my intuition, I saw people’s energies as archetypes of animals. I used it as a tool for guidance and healing, and it has helped me to evolve my own spiritual practice. In my years of study, however, I’ve found a rather large problem in how animal totemism is presented, and it stems from personal bias. I used to do readings for people, helping them to discover just who their totems were, but ever since I saw this elephant in the room, I’ve stopped doing that for the public.
As is often the case when you become knowledgeable about a topic in the metaphysical community, people try to put you into the role of “teacher” or “reader.” This was my experience at 18, as many of my friends wanted me to do “Animal Totem Readings” for them so that they could know their totem. I used the template outlined by Jamie Sams and David Carson in their deck/book combo “Medicine Cards: The Discovery of Power Through the Ways of Animals.” It had an outline for a system to use. I also frequented texts such as “Animal Speak” and “Animal Wise” by Ted Andrews for more information on the individual totems.
As a year or so went on, however, I found that their template didn’t work for me; I found it rigid and consistently conflicting with my spiritual growth. Some totems I worked with intensely over the course of a couple of months or a year. Some were fleeting messengers, while others seemed to be here for the long haul. So I tried to indulge in the notion that totems were a more fluid thing, that there was no system and to just take it as it comes. It was around this time, however, that my totems started trying to form into a system of their own. In both cases, it was my totems themselves that were trying to buck my system or lack thereof.
I took some time and asked my totems why I felt like there was no stability. Why even when I tried to remove templates, I couldn’t find a sense of stability with what I identified with as being my main form of spiritual practice. And they sat amused in silence for a while before answering, “It’s because you are trying so hard to find a way that works for everyone. To design the ‘perfect template.’ But it doesn’t exist. Everyone’s spiritual path is different, as you well know. Is it so surprising that that also applies to working with animal totems?”
It took me a long time to really accept this. I worked with a couple of friends on their totems, and what I realized is that when I chatted with people, we could easily identify the ways in which their own totems worked with them. Some people just intuitively understood their relationship with totems, some of them taking on archetypal roles, while others had correspondences or liked elaborate templates. Literally every system with which I was familiar, and those I wasn’t, had worked for someone I have chatted with over the years.
That’s when I realized I’d spent so much time worrying about other people’s totemic journey rather than becoming intimate with my own. That is when I stopped doing “Animal Totem Readings” for people, in which I would tell someone the guides to work with for the rest of this incarnation. Instead I shifted to telling someone if I saw a particular totem energy pop up for them, or I would do an “Animal Guidance Reading” (which is much like a tarot reading). Those are more situational and don’t force someone into a fixed dynamic. I had discovered it was important to let people find their own path to totems, and even with helping them, things have to be rather open-ended.
Though I’d always operated from this point, I hadn’t really understood why. I couldn’t quite put my finger on the root of the issue. And then last summer, I was hanging out with some friends when another woman who, “knows her stuff” was asking me what I thought her totem was. I told her. I gave my reasons why I thought that particular spirit was a part of her, and she said she could definitely see why. Though, I realized an issue with this the next day. I had told her of my perceptions of her via my own personal bias, which was formed from my general opinion of her, my personal gnosis, and of course the research I had under my belt. But it had barely any basis in her own spiritual path. Now, granted I told her that it was just my humble opinion and, again, it was based on only what I saw and on what my own intuition picked up, but it still bothered me.
For example, I had another friend who tried very hard to work with Wolf, because that’s one someone she respected told her. She’d meditate and try to connect, but she was always greeted by Lark or Lemur instead. It took a while before she realized the latter two were her totems and not Wolf. Now, this doesn’t mean that her friend was “wrong;” perhaps she needed Wolf energy, or someone she is close to has a lot of Wolf energy and it tends to be around her, or that’s how he saw her. The possibilities are truly limitless. It’s why I always caution people away from absolutes and definitives unless it’s based on personal gnosis. It’s nice to have external confirmation, but it shouldn’t be what you base your whole journey on.
Everyone has their own interpretations of what certain animals mean and help you with. Now, I do believe that there are some core concepts that are nearly universal (this is where archetypes come in), but individual relationships are as varied as the people who participate in them. I found this out when I started asking people I’d done readings for what they thought my own totems were. This wasn’t because I had no idea, even if I’d say I didn’t, because intuitively I know what kinds of energies I have within me. But mostly I did it because I was curious to see what kinds of energies people associate with me and what animal forms that they take. I’ve gotten so many varied answers, it only confirms for me that totems are a unique and malleable spiritual practice. Though we are working with real spirits and energies, how they speak to us varies from person to person.
Take Snake for example, which has one of the most diverse and expansive histories in culture and myth of any creature on this planet. It has been the embodiment of chaos, a cherished healer, and a scapegoat for temptation. This also translates over into the mundane world. Some find them fascinating while others flee in terror at even the mention of a slithering serpent. As someone who works closely with Snake, in various forms, I have found them to represent healing, cleansing, self-renewal, order, sexuality, and natural cycles among other things. So for me, this totem would be something very sacred and special. Someone who sees it as a sign of chaos and disruption, or as the totem of someone who is manipulative and untrustworthy, however, probably wouldn’t assign this totem to me (I hope!). And thus, if I relied on their personal bias, I’d be missing out on a lot of potential wisdom and spiritual development.
There are of course less extreme examples of this kind of bias, but just like the paths of totemism, the list would be limitless. We’re all shaped by our own knowledge of biology, culture, experience, and mysticism. There have been plenty of times I’ve picked a totem for someone and they said there was no way that it could be that. Then I tell them a story or interesting fact, and suddenly, they see it in a perspective that aligns with their own sense of identity. I’ve also been the person whose view was shaped on many occasions, for as much as I’d love to know everything about every animal, it’s simply not possible. I welcome the knowledge when it’s given to me, as I think it’s always good to be reminded that there’s more out there to learn.
By this point in this blog you’re probably thinking, “Well, good job, you’ve pointed out an inherent problem within spirituality. But what can we do about it?” If you’re not, that’s okay, but it’s what I was thinking, so I thought I’d share. My first suggestion is to work with your own totems and learn about them. Both through research and through working with them in meditation or dreamtime. This is a crucial part of working with these kinds of energies. You’ll start to understand your personal relationships with totems as well as how they interact with you as far as other people. It’d be nice, though, if there was a way to document your own personal opinions and experiences and make your own animal totem dictionary, wouldn’t it?
Oh wait! You can! It’s that simple. Just make your own. I had one of those ridiculous “Duh!” moments when I was re-reading a book by one of my favorite authors, Lupa. In DIY Totemism, she points out why it’s such a good idea to just make your own. It’s genius, and, really, after you hear it, it just sounds like common sense.
Now, keep in mind, this is a long term project. You don’t need to rush out to Michael’s and buy all of the craft supplies possible and crank out a dictionary by the end of the week. Instead, take your time and work with your own totems. Work on it as it comes to you, and you’ll start to build up your own personal reference guide to animal guides and totems. As well as being a tremendous resource, it’s also a documentation of your journey with them, a representation of the effort both sides have put into it. I recommend going out and buying a three ring binder, some page protectors, and some paper (computer, construction, lined, etc…) and going from there. In mine, I have printouts of articles which have stuck with me, pictures I’ve loved, art I’ve made, meditations I’ve experienced, and wisdom I’ve gained. Make the book personal; if you want to decorate the cover, or draw a picture for every creature, then do it. This is your journey, and only you can decide how to go about it.
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