Brother Coyote loved to play tricks, but now he felt that Chief Buffalo and the rest of the People were playing a trick on him. He felt the disbelief rising in his heart, and said, “You wish me to go on a quest? Are you mocking me? Surely this must be some sort of jest! Brother Eagle, I do not have your keen eyes and ability to fly high in the sky, so I could not escape danger, nor could I see it coming ahead of time. Sister Cougar, I am no great hunter like you. If I were to go on such a journey, I would surely starve!”

Why not send Sister Doe, who has the ability to sniff out predators and run away quickly? Or send Brother Bear, who has great strength, so he could fight an enemy should one overtake him?

“Sister Doe is much too timid for such a journey,” said Chief Buffalo.

“And Brother Bear is sleeping, and has been for many weeks. Nobody knows if he shall ever wake again.”

But Brother Coyote was not convinced. One by one he named all of the creatures of the People; but one by one Chief Buffalo gave him reasons why they could not go. He explained that if Brother Coyote could not go, it could be nobody else.

“I am not a warrior!” cried Coyote, “I am not a hero! I spend my days running through the forest, playing and joking with the People! I am not clever enough, or strong enough, or fast enough, or smart enough for such a journey! I cannot go!”

Chief Buffalo, Brother Eagle and Sister Cougar looked upon Brother Coyote with sadness. They thought about pointing out all the ways that he was wrong about what he had said. They thought about listing all the strengths that Brother Coyote could bring to their quest, such as his ability to track, and to hide, and to deceive a predator on the trail. But they had been down this road with Coyote too many times before. They knew that it would only lead to more arguments and more hurt feelings if they tried to talk him out of his decision. So instead they walked away with pity in their hearts.

As Chief Buffalo turned to leave, he said to Coyote, “I am disappointed in you. I thought you would be happy to help out the People, who have been victims of many of your cruel jests. I would think that you would like to make amends for your pranks. I can see now that I was wrong.”

And with that, Chief Buffalo walked away.

Of all the things Coyote had heard from the People this afternoon, the words of Chief Buffalo stung him the most. He had always admired and respected his Grandfather Buffalo, and it hurt Coyote deeply to see him so disappointed. But Coyote did not see what others could see in him. In his own eyes, he was just a trickster and a fool, incapable of great deeds.

With a sad and heavy heart, he walked away from the Chief’s lodge to return to his own den.

2.0 A Change of Context

Change can be scary. The comforting thing about the familiar is its familiarity; we know what to expect. This can even be true if the familiar situation is grim. Quite often we’ll stay stuck in a bad situation because the fear of the unknown can be worse than the current (known) situation. Such a sentiment is often expressed in the phrase, “Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t know.”

The familiar, however uncomfortable it may be, is at least familiar. We often choose to stay in a familiar, yet miserable, situation rather than to fly off to ills we know not of. When faced with the possibility of change in such a situation, there is an element of the unknown that must be dealt with. We don’t know what to expect. What if, by acting, we make things worse? What can we expect to happen if we leave the familiar for unknown, unexplored territory? Sure, things might get better, but they might get worse too. When we let our fears of the unknown overwhelm us, it is easy to, like Coyote, refuse the Call to Adventure. It’s simply easier to stay in misery than to set sail on uncharted waters.

I was once traveling to a workshop on shamanism. This particular seminar was being held in a hidden-away corner of the Southern Appalachians. This was before the days of GPS, and I was having difficulty finding my way, so I stopped at a little country store to ask for directions. When I told the clerk where I was going, he jokingly replied, “You can’t get there from here. You have to go someplace else and start over.”

Of course he was being facetious, but his answer was a great metaphor for the journey into the world of shamanism. If you plan to journey to the Otherworld that is the realm of the shaman, you can’t get there from here. This is one of the reasons for the metaphorical death and rebirth experiences so common to shamanistic paths throughout the world. The shaman must die to his old way of living and being in the world and be reborn into the life of the shaman. Sometimes the rites required to complete this task may seem odd or downright silly to modern eyes. Celtic shamans were required to stand on one foot like a crane, with one eye covered, while seeking visions or pronouncing prophecies. Some Native Americans stood for days with pebbles between their toes to keep them awake while seeking visions. Some shamans painted their naked bodies, lay down in boats at sea, ate special foods, slept wrapped in a buffalo hide, or engaged in drumming, singing, chanting and a variety of other behaviors all designed to put the shaman’s consciousness in touch with the Otherworld.

So it’s pretty obvious that some of the rites, rituals and tools of shamanism will feel weird at first. That’s okay. If they didn’t feel strange, you’d already be doing them. Given time you will become accustomed to these new ways of being and new ways of doing as part of your spiritual practice. If you cannot get past the unfamiliarity with drumming and chanting, or creating your own reality and taking responsibility for it, or performing rites, then you “can’t get there from here.” In such a case, you are not ready to enter the Belly of the Whale, and you are still in the Refusal of the Call. Answering the Call of the Coyote means setting forth with purpose, with determination, and with will. There’s no, “I guess so” on the Path of the Coyote. If you are not certain that you are ready, then you are in the Refusal of the Call stage of the Hero’s Journey, and are not ready for ecospirituality.

The way out of this Refusal of the Call is to trust the process. Trust your own instinct, and trust your own Supernatural Aid. Trust in your connections to others, to nature, and to self. Meditate on what your own inner voice may be trying to tell you. The way to know if you are ready to take the call is to know with certainty that it can be no other way.

When you achieved this sense of certainty, you will be ready to die to your old way of being and to be reborn as a follower of the Way of the Coyote.

2.1 Choosing to Answer the Call

Like Coyote in the story, a person who refuses the Call to Adventure has no confidence in himself/herself. When you have received the call, you stand at a crossroads. You have a choice. You can take the red pill or the blue pill. You are free to choose to continue to refuse the Call to Adventure. Such a refusal means staying in the familiar, but it also means accepting the status quo. It means surrendering to life as it is without considering possibilities of future growth.

If you find yourself stuck here but wishing to answer the Call to Adventure, the first step is to ask yourself, “If nothing changed from now on, could I live the rest of my life this way?”

If the answer to that question is, “No,” then obviously something has to change.

To begin making this change is to begin trusting yourself. Out of the billions of people on this planet, the only person who is a true expert on you is you. You already have within you everything you need to know to begin the quest. All you have to do is to learn to trust your inner wisdom.

The path of ecospirituality involves following the Way of the Coyote. It is a spiritual journey…a hero’s journey with many signposts and crossings. Each one of these crossings represents a phase along the way to becoming a seeker and a seer of visions. When you have arrived at the end of this journey you will have discovered a new way of being in the world. The first crossing is to answer the Call to Adventure.

At this first crossing we have to forge our will to commit to the path. When a vision seeker sets out on the path such a decision requires a firm and resolute will. The life of a shaman is not to be approached with an attitude of “I guess so,” or “I’ll do it when I have the time,” or “this looks like fun if nothing else is going on.” Such a path requires a complete commitment to the quest. Once you cross the threshold there is no turning back. The journey of the vision seeker is one of lifetime dedication. If you’re saying to yourself, “I don’t have the time or the energy,” what you’re really saying is, “It’s not a priority for me.” If it’s not a priority, then you’re not going to put forth your best efforts, so it’s probably not the right path…or the right choice…for you at this time in your life. If that is the case, it’s better to set aside the path and return to it with a firm resolve when you are ready to commit to do the work.

2.2 Conquering Your Fears

In many indigenous traditions throughout the world, the path of the shaman begins with a rebirthing ceremony in which the initiate is given a new spiritual name. This renaming signifies a person’s birth to the spirit world.   The naming ceremony is the vision seeker’s announcement to the world that he or she has taken up the quest. Such a commitment is a death to the former way of being, and rebirth as a seer and a seeker of visions.

This rebirth depends upon conquering your own fears. Conquering fear doesn’t mean never being afraid. It means rising to meet the challenges of the Way of the Coyote in spite of the fear.  It is the first landmark in the decision to become the person you were meant to be by embracing your True Self.  To overcome your own Refusal of the Call, complete the worksheet below to help you determine what fears might be standing in your way as you prepare to undertake your own journey of discovery.