Tara Stonemother - Shamanic Seer

05/21/2026

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🪶🤍🪶

05/21/2026

Oh, Ohana. On our way to Mount Ranier to head up. At the base of the mountain is Ohanapecosh, named for a Taidnapam (Upper Cowlitz) American indigenous habitation site along the river. Ohanapecosh means “standing at the edge.”

05/17/2026

05/06/2026

What arises as your eyes look at these images? Tell me. I'm interested.

04/22/2026

🌱💚🌎💚🌱

03/31/2026

The day took its own path... it unfolded with a determination orchestrated well beyond us—effortless, unforced, because Life itself had decided to be generous in its very unique way.

We walked first along the river, the morning sun skipping across the water, catching in the edges of things. The currents of air and water moved thought and emotion for us like a blessing.

The crisp air chilled us and the fresh spring energy made us hangry, so we went searching for poached eggs on sourdough toast with a kind of innocent determination. But Life said: no poached eggs for you! Closed restaurants, a solitary egg in a fridge, forgotten loaves, no poached eggs after 11am at the open restaurant. And instead of frustration, there was laughter. A surrender. As if the day was reminding us: this is not about finding—it’s about moving, together.

Then the forest called us deeper in a quest for devil’s club. Two sisters stepping into that wilder edge of things, soaking up the living green. Again, the search for the object of our desire was not fulfilled. And yet… everything was given. The absence itself became part of the offering.

And the waterfalls. The air changed there. The sound was not just heard, but felt in the chest, in the bones. We sat with our drums, letting their voices rise into the roar, not competing, but weaving. Your rhythm, my rhythm—distinct, and yet somehow becoming one living pulse carried by water, stone, and breath. Ancient. Like remembering something we didn’t learn in this lifetime.

Along the path, loved people appeared as if summoned—familiar faces in unexpected places, brief crossings of energy that felt much less like coincidence and much more like quiet alignment. A beautiful thread adding to the tapestry of the day.

And through it all, laughter—light, unguarded, effortless. The kind that doesn’t come from trying to be happy, but from being it.

We ended as we began - in presence. Walking in to a new place smelling like the forest, a table laid with beautiful food, colours and textures and nourishment, shared not just as a meal but as a closing circle...

03/22/2026

If you refuse to wander in bewilderment,
you will inherit a map you never drew—
walking paths carved by other people’s thoughts,
mistaking their echoes for your own voice.

° Stonemother

03/18/2026

Strength that does not need to show itself
that can fold inward instead of striking outward
A force capable of harm
choosing, quietly, not to

We are taught to prove our power
to bare it, wield it, defend it
as if restraint were weakness
and softness a kind of surrender
But the deepest strength
lies in what you could do
and decide not to

To carry the capacity for destruction
and lay it down gently
on something soft
To become still
not because you are small
but because you are vast enough
to rest

This is the discipline
not the sharpening of the blade
but the hand that knows
when to release it

03/18/2026

Stillness
No need to ask why
No past to untangle
No future to chase
Just wind, just water, just sky
Tuned to the language of water
Reading stories in air
Breathing with the rhythm of everything
That humans forget is there
A bird takes flght - she watches, no wanting
A wave breaks - she does not name it
The world arrives, whole and unbroken
She has no need to reach for it
In this stillness, something ancient
A knowing without words
That life is not solved or captured
Only quietly, deeply heard


dogs canecorso coonhound goodgirl
peace spirit

03/13/2026

There is something every seasoned walker between worlds eventually discovers: belief is often a story the mind writes to calm its fear of the unknown.

From a shamanic perspective, belief is not the same as knowing. Belief is a mental construction formed from culture, memory, and the nervous system’s need for certainty.

Real knowing comes through direct encounter — through the body, through the land, through altered states, through listening to wind, plants, dreams, and the deep intelligence beneath thought.

Belief is a conclusion about something you do not truly know. Understanding this points you toward the same threshold shamans have always crossed: the moment when you drop the story and step into experience.

In ceremony, belief dissolves quickly. The forest does not care what you believe. The spirit of cedar, the jaguar of the underworld, the thunder of the drum — these reveal themselves only to those willing to meet mystery without conclusions.

There is a narrow tunnel through which most humans perceive reality. Our senses are filtered through layers: first our emotional needs, then our ambitions and survival drives, and finally the personal worldview we built to organize our life story.

By the time reality reaches our awareness, we are not seeing the world itself — we are seeing our interpretation of it.

A shamanic seer trains themselves to widen that eye. Through fasting, plant dietas, breath, solitude, ceremony and ritual, the filters begin to loosen.

The personal worldview softens, the ego quiets, the emotional storms settle, and perception opens into what can be called “the present mystery of reality.” That mystery is not an idea; it is a living field.

The deeper teaching is simple but radical: reality is always far larger than the story we place over it. The work of the shaman is to step outside the story often enough to hear the world speak again. 🌿