The Council of All Beings

Soon we will enter one of the central practices of this work together: the Council of All Beings.

In our ordinary lives, we humans speak almost endlessly. We explain, debate, argue, analyse, persuade. We have become very practiced at occupying the centre of the conversation. In the Council, however, we experiment with something different. We step quietly to one side and make room for the voices of the more-than-human world.

For a little while, we allow ourselves to become a mouthpiece for another life-form — an animal, a tree, a mountain, a river, a fungus, a cloud, a stone, perhaps even a whole ecosystem. Any being from the wider Earth community may come forward.

This way of allowing wisdom to speak through us may seem unusual in our culture, yet it is often much easier than we imagine.

Why are humans not included in the Council?

Not because humans are bad, nor because we are separate from life, but simply because our species has spoken for so long, and so loudly, that the others have had little chance to be heard. For this brief time, we ask humans to listen.

Some people have experiences during the Council that feel deeply mysterious — moments when their ordinary human identity softens and the voice of another being seems to move through them with startling clarity. Others experience it more as imagination, role-play, or an exercise in empathy or moral imagination: a chance to wonder what it might feel like to inhabit another way of being in the world.

Both are completely welcome.

There is no right way to do this. You may move in and out of your human self. At times you may feel deeply connected to your ally, and at other times simply curious. Nothing has gone wrong. This is not a performance, nor a test of spiritual sensitivity. It is simply an invitation to listen differently. And always we hear things spoken that we have never heard before.

Finding Your Ally

There are many ways an ally may find us.

Sometimes it happens quietly and unexpectedly. A bird catches your attention and will not leave your awareness. A tree seems to ask you to stop. A stone, a creek, an insect, the wind — something calls.

Often, I invite people simply to wander.

Walk slowly through the forest, the garden, the hillside — whatever landscape surrounds us. Wander without destination. Be playful. Try not to think too much about who you should choose. Instead, let yourself be chosen.

Perhaps sit somewhere for a while. Be still. Ask inwardly:

Who would like to speak through me in the Council?

And then listen.

Nothing dramatic needs to happen. You need not have visions or revelations. Sometimes the relationship arrives quietly, almost shyly.

At other times, drumming, dancing, chanting, or silent sitting may help us loosen our ordinary habits of perception and enter a more receptive state. Through movement or rhythm, people sometimes discover their ally in surprising ways — through an image, a feeling, a memory, or a sudden knowing.

And if nothing chooses you, that too is perfectly fine. You are welcome simply to choose an ally yourself. Trust your intuition.

Making the Mask

Once we have found our allies, we create a simple mask to represent them.

These masks are not meant to be works of art, nor clever performances. They are offerings — playful, imperfect doorways into relationship.

Using cardboard, crayons, paint, natural materials, string, glue, leaves, feathers, bark — whatever is available — allow yourself to enter the spirit of your ally through making.

This can be a lovely time of quietness and delight. Something childlike often awakens here: the pleasure of creating without self-consciousness.

If possible, remain mostly in silence as you work, allowing the making itself to become part of your conversation with your ally.

Practical note: make the mouth opening large enough that others will be able to hear you speak in the Council.

Entering the Council

When we gather, we will enter not as humans speaking about the Earth, but as beings of the Earth speaking for ourselves.

When you speak, use the first person.

Not: “The snake feels…”

But:

“I am Snake. I move close to the Earth. I feel the trembling of footsteps above me…”

Speak as your ally.

Refer to humans as they, or the two-leggeds, or whatever language feels natural to your being. This helps us stay rooted in the perspective of the creature whose life we are momentarily inhabiting.

Allow your ally to express itself freely. Sounds, gestures, silences, movements — all are welcome.

There is no script.

Every Council is different.

Sometimes there is grief. Sometimes laughter. Sometimes anger. Sometimes astonishing tenderness. Sometimes confusion, stillness, or wildness. Nothing particular needs to happen except that the voices of the Earth are given room to speak.

As facilitators, our task is not to control the Council but to trust it.

The Threshold

Because we are moving between worlds — from human identity into the wider Earth community and back again — ritual matters.

We will enter through a threshold: perhaps smoke, drumming, rattles, song, or silence. One by one, as you cross this threshold, invite your ally to come close and put your mask on. On the other side, allow yourself to move, sound, and gather with the others as your being.

And when the Council is complete, we will return the same way — slowly, consciously, gratefully.

Before leaving, each being may wish to offer a gift, a teaching, or a message for the human world.

Not as commandments.

Simply as offerings.

For the work of the Council is not to escape being human, but to remember what it might mean to be human in relationship — to rediscover ourselves as one voice in a vast and ancient conversation.