CUYA INSTITUTE, CUYAINSTITUTE.COM

Embodied Animism: Reclaiming the Sacred
by Paul Robear

Most ancestral and Indigenous societies view all aspects of the natural world—including animals, plants, rocks, rivers, and weather systems—as alive, each possessing its own spirit or essence. This worldview, often referred to as animism, is less a belief system and more a way of relating to the world. It is a perspective grounded in relationship, connection, and reverence.

This makes deep sense to me, and I love developing a more mytho-poetic relationship with the world around me. I’ve come to experience it as an invitation—a call to remember something our modern culture has largely forgotten: that we are not separate from the rest of life, but part of a vast, interconnected web.

It shouldn’t be such a leap for us, as humans, to engage with the world as kin—with a sense of mutual respect and dialogue. I find it brings about a profound shift, especially in contrast to the dominant worldview that treats the Earth as inert—something to be controlled or extracted from. Let’s face it, that mindset has led to many of the crises we now face.

For me, this sense of connection deepens through the practice of Ritual Body Postures. These postures—derived from ancient Indigenous art and linked to visionary trance states—allow for a direct experience of animist reality. During these embodied rituals, something shifts. The veil between self and world grows thin, and the boundaries between “me” and “tree,” or “rock,” or “animal” begin to dissolve. It’s not merely imagination—it feels like a remembered knowing, a return to a more original way of being.

I have had sessions where I felt surrounded by the presence of Bear—not just as a symbolic figure, but as a real being whose awareness became my own. The gaze wasn’t metaphorical; it was relational. I was being seen—and at moments, I could see the world through the eyes of being Bear. The forest wasn’t just a place I had entered—it was a living presence that had welcomed me in.

Experiences like this are not unique to me or to our community of practitioners. Many people report similar encounters—moments of being guided, embraced, or even instructed by non-human intelligences. Some describe becoming the animals themselves. While some in the scientific community might dismiss such moments as hallucination, we recognize them as instances of direct communion. It’s not about belief—it’s about lived relationship.

In a time of ecological crisis and spiritual disconnection, animistic experience offers a path toward healing—of ourselves, our communities, and the Earth. By restoring reverence for the living world, we begin to live more ethically, more attentively, more lovingly. And perhaps that is what we need most—not more information, but deeper intimacy with the Earth and all her beings.

Through Ritual Body Postures, I feel as though I’m remembering something ancient—something that was once common knowledge. It’s a journey back to belonging—not just to humanity, but to the whole circle of life.