The small, shy, African man, clad in a simple but colorful full-length robe, spoke with soft intensity through both his voice and his eyes to the chicken that stood before him. Suddenly, without body spasm or flapping wings, the chicken toppled on its side, dead. At the command of the 39-year-old African shaman it had given up its life voluntarily for use in the healing of a woman who had come hundreds of miles to secure relief from an eleven-year-long ailment The event was observed by a dozen members of an American group that had come to Africa to learn of its traditional spirituality and its powers of healing.

We came away with the clear impression that West Africa's animistic traditions have much to give to a Western culture that has become impoverished in its understanding of and ability to use spiritual power. Akuétè is one of West Africa's better-known healers. He lives in a small, unpretentious compound about ten miles from downtown Lome, the capital city of the minuscule country of Togo.

Born of Christian parents, but surrounded by an animistic culture, Akuétè had been sent to Germany to study as a medical doctor and to learn the scientific ways of the West. His wife and parents longed to see him join the upper levels of Togolaise society and gain the affluence which a Western education could provide.

But the spirits Akuétè had known as a child would not leave him alone. Powerful visions and dreams assailed him in medical school and called him back to the animism of his grandparents. Disowned by his parents and deserted by his wife, he followed his inner spiritual guidance and returned to a grueling and expensive apprenticeship in the sacred animistic forest of Togo. He has now emerged as an acknowledged master of fire and a partial master of water. His control of the spiritual forces behind these basic elements under girds his power as a healer. Evidence of his fame is expressed in the willingness of Air Afrique to soon begin flying charter planes from Europe outfitted with stretchers for patients too sick to make the flight in normal airline seats.

This shy little man, humble, but confident in his ability, is a symbol of the spiritual power that still exists in the traditional animistic religions and the healing techniques of West Africa. This spiritual power is available to anyone who will open their mind to the unexpected. This power lies buried within the genetic pool of black Americans, many of whom share the same ancestors with Akuétè. It lies dormant within the rhythms and wail of great "soul" music, within the images of black art and poetic expression. This is power that could yet be brought as a great gift to the rest of the world if we, and particularly black America which has access to the communicative genius of the West, could but reconnect to the African heritage that resonates in our very heartbeat.


CONCEPT OF SPIRITUALITY

In the West Africa I was privileged to experience, spirituality is the measure of the quality of one's relationship to the ultimate vitalizing life force. All forms of life are understood to be animated by an in flowing of divine power, known in other parts of the world as manu, prana, or gone, but here given a name incredibly misunderstood by the West— voodoo. Voodoo is not the popularized black magic of Hollywood's distortion. Rather, it equals God-force: divine, animating energy that enters every form (human, animal, bird, fish, plant or mineral) in some unique way to manifest some aspect of the divine character. Akuétè and his brethren would deeply understand the poetic expression that "every bush is aflame with the glory of God."

Focusing attention on the unique manifestation of God that appears in a flaming bush, a soaring eagle, a cluster of boulders, or a gliding snake, the animistic student penetrates beyond the visible manifestation of God to the very essence behind that form. By immersing himself in the essence of an eagle, he gains the power to use the eagle's clarity of perspective (a manifestation of God's insight) to solve problems in his life that require profound awareness. Or by learning the essence of a snake he discovers how to divest himself of old ways that no longer serve him, in the same way a snake sheds its skin when it is time for a new one. Learning to relate to the essential nature of God comes in small, comprehensible steps when each piece of creation is believed to manifest some separate quality of God and may be studied one at a time.

Focusing on the multiplicity of God-invested forms is a natural consequence of living in an environment of relatively luxuriant foliage, rich in animal, fish and bird forms and marked by striking rock formations. A single tree may be home to a thousand different varieties of insects! A religion that recognizes a different aspect of God to be manifested in each of those forms must create innumerable patterns of sacrifice and propitiation to adequately worship and praise all it

In contrast, Christianity, Judaism and Islam are religions that originated in the stark realities of the desert. In place of multiplicity of God-invested forms, our desert ancestors were dominated by one burning reality-the Sun. All of life had to be organized in response to its wrathful power. There was little in the environment to soften its harsh effect. The ability of Mother Earth to provide watering holes, cool shade or even food was limited. The divine essence behind the Sun was the power that gave and took life away. Little wonder that desert people tended toward monotheism and simple, direct expression of devotion, and decreed against the making of graven images since no finite forms could adequately express that overwhelming Reality before which they stood in awe and fear.

The desert people saw the transcendent oneness of God. The jungle people saw the immanent multiplicity of God. The One and the Many, that which is Out There and that which is Right Here—two sides of the same coin. The resulting spiritualities are quite different, however.


MEASURED IN TWO DIRECTIONS


By defining spirituality as a measure of the quality of ones relationship to the ultimate vitalizing life force, it is possible to apply this measure in two directions. First, the level of ones spirituality can be measured as the ability to control, manipulate and direct the life force. Secondly, it can be measured by ones ability to do the opposite: to yield, to be taken over and directed by the life force.

In monotheistic religions the life force-God-is so overwhelmingly immense, so infinitely beyond the capacity of the human mind to conceive, that any attempt to control, manipulate and direct it must be understood as impossible. Within a moralistic framework that fact means it is not only inappropriate but downright sinful to try. If, however, a strict line is drawn between God and His creation, then the creation can be deserialize and shorn of any divine essence, thus becoming the legitimate arena for the expression of man's egotistic need to dominate and control. That, of course, is exactly what a secular, scientific age has done. It has deserialize nature in order to dissect its creatures, denude its forests, pollute its waters, asphalt its fields, and atomize its atmosphere—all without guilt, On the other hand, this desacralization makes the experience of the life force so abstract as to make it all but impossible to know what behavior demonstrates a genuine yielding to the divine power.

The result since measurement is so abstract and subjective, Western man is effectively protected from any judgment about his degree of spiritual attainment, In a society like that of traditional West Africa, where not only the One but the Many is effectively recognized and acknowledged, these measures of spirituality can be applied. Here it is not inappropriate to learn to control, manipulate and direct the life force. Indeed, observation of the many manifestations of the life force in nature will reveal that different elements of the life force are in a constant struggle to manipulate one another: the royal palm tree struggles to develop termite resistant bark, while the termites learn to build great clay defenses against the birds that would devour them. Why should not man learn also to control, manipulate and direct the life force, while retaining a recognition of its divine reality? Such ability is demonstrable. Spiritual awareness equates directly to spiritual prowess.


SPIRITUAL POWER DEMONSTRATED


The Togolaise masters are clear about the progress of their students because "by their works they will know them." Thus, Akuétè, the Togolaise healer returned to his traditional heritage, entered the sacred forests set aside for the training in spiritual disciplines, and learned the age-old secrets of handling fire. For seven years, Akuétè forsook the comforts of the Western world and subjected himself to becoming a friend and master of fire. That he had learned his lessons well was evident. Before our eyes, he aided a group of fire dancers in calling forth the fire spirit to consume a pile of green wood cut that day for this demonstration. He stood in the fire and neither his body nor his clothes were harmed. Before our eyes, Akuétè reenacted the Biblical stories of Elijah calling down Jehovah to consume the wet wood before the priests of Baal and of the three Hebrews who were cast into the fiery furnace and who came out unscathed. One could not help but wonder how many Christian bishops would come out looking like the priests of Baal if sent into confrontation with Akuétè. Fire, water and earth are the basic forms for divine manifestation.

Akuétè is a master of fire. Others in West Africa are masters of water. They would not be surprised to learn that Jesus stilled the waves and walked upon their surface. They would embrace him as one of their own and would wonder why the missionaries demanded that they give up what they already knew about how to act like Jesus. Still others have mastered control of the earth and can request the spirit of the sand to change its nature and cool a fevered body like fresh water, or ask granite and marble to become fluid and flow into the perfect wave patterns that baffle archaeologists studying the lintels of certain Egyptian temple doors. No one in West Africa at present can claim mastery over all three basic elements: fire, water and earth. There are many, however, who can control lesser manifestations of the divine life force as it appears in a snake, a wild animal or a bird, or who can call fish to the nets by conversing with the spirit that enlivens their form.


POWER USED DESTRUCTIVELY


When through spiritual discipline one gains power over the life force, it becomes tempting to use the power destructively. Only the intent of the practitioner separates the black magician and sorcerer from the shaman and healer. Once one gains power over snakes, for example, it is not difficult to succumb to a request from a spiteful person to direct snakes into the house and garden of a third party they are angry with, especially if the request is accompanied with a sufficiently large payment. Thereby is a sorcerer born, and the spiritual power over one aspect of the life force is turned to a destructive end. Fortunately, life seems to have a bias toward the constructive use of its power. As one shaman said, "You seldom see an old sorcerer. They all grow to look old very quickly and die very young." Others confirmed that spiritual power used with loving intent is indomitable. "No evil can undo perfect love for love cast out all fear—which is the only enemy."

For this reason, whether in Togo's voodoo compounds or a modem Western medical center, it is wise to look for a healer with a great capacity to love. With this criterion in mind, it was not difficult to yield to the ministrations of Mamaissi, a second healer we visited in Togo. This great woman exuded warmth and caring from her two-hundred pound earth-mother frame, her warm smile and her soothing manner. Mamaissi works with a great water spirit called Densu.

Her treatments usually involved bathing in a variety of liquids. I complained to her of a dislocated sacroiliac joint for which, before leaving for Africa, I had taken a month of chiropractic treatments—with only moderate relief. She said I had an evil serpent invading my spine. By way of exorcism I submitted to having her son administer successive showers of conch oil, milk, beer, egg, and soda water interspersed with dousing of herb water, soap and plain water, ending in talcum powder and considerable amounts of perfume. Mamaissi prayed. I traveled thousands of miles in the next ten days on crowded buses, bouncing Land Rovers, and transatlantic airlines, sleeping in different beds almost nightly, with no pain. Evidently the serpent was gone.

The shamanic healer assumes the responsibility to control, manipulate and direct the life force. Inability to do so is representative of allow level of spiritual development. Since the purpose of being born is to enter an earthly classroom in spiritual development, it is wise for everyone to get on with their lessons quickly. Most men begin their pilgrimage to the sacred forests where the training is conducted as soon as possible. Women await the end of their childbearing years and then begin to redirect their procreative energies towards gaining specific spiritual powers. Death at a low level of spiritual growth will only result in the necessity to be reincarnated and start again where the lessons were left off. Death at a mastery level will permit one to move on to live with ancestors who no longer need a physical body to exist.


YIELDING—THE SECOND MEASURE

The second measure of spiritual development is the ability to yield, to be taken over and directed by the life force. Life is a cooperative ebb and flow. Not only must a spiritually adept person be able to direct the flow outward, but he or she must be willing to allow the inward flow of the spirit for his/her own guidance. The shamanic healer must be in harmony with the rhythms of the universe. He must be in tune with the primeval vibrations that reverberate from the heart of the Eternal. Hence the constant presence of the drums, the chant, and the dance in all traditional ritual.

The drums are the master tools of the spirit expressing its primal heal. They are the hypnotic means by which the life force takes control of the human being. Thousands of years of drumming on a variety of percussion instruments have developed an incredibly beautiful and evocative series of rhythms. So complex is the rhythm that it defies complete transcription by Western means of musical notation. Yet hints of these age old rhythms live on in the music we call "soul." The effect on the mind is hypnotic. The drumming is accompanied by repetitive, wailing chants presented in delicate harmonies. Frequently the men drum and the women sing and dance. The dances involve movements that any good body therapist would recognize, which have the intent of opening the body to greater movement of air and to relaxation of tense muscles. An uptight body is no temple for the spirit.

As the dance goes on, a subtle shift begins to occur. Instead of the drummer beating his drum, the drum begins to move the drummer. Instead of the dancer moving through the steps, the music begins to move through the dancer. The chant literally begins to sing the singer. Drummer, dancer, singer—all begin to be moved by that which is not them. Something begins to enter from the outside. No longer do bodies move by internal muscle power. Normal energy could not sustain the hours-long constant movement. A new energy is pouring in. Aches and tiredness disappear. Even observers feel light and vitalized.

As the new energy spirit rushes in, the dancing, drumming, singing bodies respond in unfettered actions abnormal to the Western eye but still expressing an incredible harmony and perfect rhythm. The dancers in particular are drawn into tune, into oneness with the deeper vibrations of the universe. Every tissue and cell in their body is realigned to harmonious resonance with the music of the spheres. There is a yielding, a letting go, to the tuning, harmonizing force of Life itself.


THE SPIRIT ENTERS

One of our group members, a well-educated and sophisticated black woman serving in a high municipal administrative position in a large northern city, received a personal experience of what it means to yield to the spirit. In her consultation with Akuétè she had asked for help in recovering her African roots, deepening the sense of her own being. Akuétè prepared for her a dance of the spirit. After proper bathing by the women of the compound, Betty was wrapped in a white gown and brought to a small circle marked on the ground about 20 feet from one of the many little spirit houses built inside the walls of the compound. Among other ritual acts, a wreath woven of small branches was laid on her head and a pot of herb water placed atop that for Betty to hold with her up stretched arms. The drums, led by the shakers, picked up their all- encompassing beat, driving all other sound out of the compound. The women began to dance and chant their high-pitched wail.

Betty stood with closed eyes. Several of the native women went into trance. Individuals from our own party were also caught up in the hypnotic pace. Members of the tribe tenderly cared for those in trance, seeing that they did not injure themselves while being allowed to experience the full power of the spirits over looking. For forty-five minutes, Betty stood swaying within her circle. Later she reported that after the first ten minutes, she lost all sense of her physical environment.

I will swear that at one point I saw ectoplasmic forms shudder their way from the spirit house toward Betty's shaking body. Then she fell to the ground, her body giving way to a rhythmic spasming that was not random but had the appearance of careful orchestration. These spasms lasted for another twenty minutes. As they subsided Betty was gently carried to a place of rest. Throughout the next ten days we spent together, Betty commented frequently in wonder over some new change taking place in her psyche and her body. A relaxation of tension, a new welling up of self-confidence, a gratefulness for the goodness of life and all who supported her, were all externally evident. Transformation is not a cliche word for her experience.

It was frightening to some in our group to watch friends being taken over by these powerful forces, even more frightening to experience the force rising up within our own loins. Those of us raised in the temperate zones of this world seldom realize how steeped we are in the world to keep all aspects of our lives temperate and to not allow extremes in behavior. I was forty years old when I realized that most of the things which my parents and teachers had inveighed against as evil—sex, alcohol, sensuous music, religious frenzy, etc. were things that encouraged people to transcend limits, to risk loss of self-control. Self-control was tine highly valued criterion in my home. The paradox is that as long as one is under self-control there can be no experience of ecstasy, no experience of the longed-for communion with God who demands a total yielding to his flow.

Science has sought in the past to reduce life to physically measurable phenomena. Western religion has succumbed to defining any other reality in terms of psychological states. Traditional African religion would not want to be so impoverished. To the West African shaman and his people, life also involves innumerable interlocking rites equally valid to our physical and psychological ones. Spirits exist, can be contacted and asked to do one's bidding, have conscious intentions of their own, and may appear in our normal world as inexplicable forces that seem to work for our good or ill. Denial that they exist does not destroy them; it only makes us unaware of their operation, leaving them a world where they can roam freely, unrecognized. No such false belief exists in traditional African religion. The physical, the psychological and the spiritual worlds all exist, interpenetrate, and interrelate. The shaman seeks to understand all possibilities, manipulate all possibilities and yield to all possibilities.

Past centuries' characterization of Africa as the "dark" and "lost" continent is the flip side of the arrogance of those who could also talk of the "white man's burden." It is the projection of those who have focused too much attention on material superiority or on pride in being able to destroy all life in a twenty-minute war, or who would claim man's right to subjugate the plant, animal and mineral kingdoms to his will. West African culture knows a great deal more about the yielding side of life, letting go, allowing. I loving yielded, the people earn the right to use in constructive ways the power to which they have given themselves. In that process, West African culture has a unique gift for all other peoples. We become less human to the degree that we reject that gift. *