Non-Fiction, Mental & Spiritual Healing
Date Published: June 26th, 2017
Publisher: Jan-Carol Publishing, Inc.
This book grew out of the ¬first seven years of August Lageman’s practice as a shaman. The book shows how the teachings of the Four Winds Society actually work with clients. In addition, August kept an open mind and integrated tools and insights from other forms of healing such as reiki and Holographic Healing. This book demonstrates how a person with a rocky childhood can heal from early wounds with the help of skilled shamans. August writes from his heart. You will learn how a shaman needs to be ready for the unexpected.
“Shamanism in the 21st Century is as useful as it is interesting. If you’ve always been curious about alternative healing modalities or want to deepen your own spiritual connection, this book is a good place to start.” — Willie E. Dalton, Author
Excerpt:
C h a p t e r 1
My Background
“Someday after mastering the winds, the waves,
the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies
of love, and then, for a second time in the history
of the world, man will have discovered fire.”
—Pierre Teilhard de Chardin
I grew up on my grandfather’s farm in Crafton, Pennsylvania. Crafton is
southwest of Pittsburgh. My grandfather’s farm lay in the valley below, and at
the outer perimeter flowed Chartiers Creek. Across from the creek was Thorn
Hill. My most vivid image is of the kaleidoscope of beautiful colors. I attended
a parochial school, St. Phillips, in Crafton, and it was a mile away. I walked up
Ewing Road, which was covered with trees, and then emerged into the town
of Crafton. Somewhere in the middle of grade school, I would walk to school,
home for lunch, and then home in the afternoon, four miles of healthy walking. I enjoyed school, but found some of the nuns to be overly strict. After five
years, my brother arrived; then two years later, a sister.
Around eight years of age (in second grade, approximately), some childhood infraction aroused my father’s ire, and I was knocked unconscious by
him. I thereafter stayed as far away from him as possible. As I finished seventh
grade, my father got a promotion (he worked for the Pennsylvania railroad). We
moved to Narberth, northwest of Philadelphia, where I finished grade school
and then attended the first two years of high school at Devon Prep. Another
promotion and off the family went to Williamsport, Maryland. I graduated
from South Hagerstown High School in 1961.
A year of college, and then off
I went to the U.S. Marine Corps. I had joined the U.S. Marine Corp Reserves
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and was placed on active duty in 1962–1963, during the Cuban missile crisis.
I remained in the reserves until discharged in 1968. In retrospect, the reserve
decision saved my life as the life expectancy of a lance corporal in Vietnam
was sixteen days.
I worked for the railroad for the next five years and worked out in my
spare time. I met my wife at the railroad, and in 1968, we married. I wanted
an education, and she wanted children. She worked and I went to school. I
graduated first in my class from Loyola in 1970. I had become active in the
United Methodist Church. In 1973, I became a Gettysburg Seminary graduate and was ordained in 1974. While going to school, I did parish ministry
from 1974–1981. The first of my children, Heather, was born in 1973; Sarah
in 1975.
I soon realized the parish was not for me. I stayed in the ministry but
shifted to counseling. I got my Ph.D. in philosophy and psychology in 1983.
I found therapy fulfilling; therefore, I pursued my own therapy in psychoanalysis at the Baltimore Washington Institute for Psychoanalysis. Years later,
I became the executive director and led the merger of the two groups to form
Pastoral Counseling Services of Maryland. In 1978, I joined the Maryland
Army National Guard as a chaplain and restarted my reserve military career.
From 1978 onward, I was very busy, both full-time and part-time. However,
underneath it all, the storm clouds were forming. Ten years after I married, I
knew that the marriage had died, but I was the father of two young girls, so I
decided to stay put.
“The day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud
was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
—Anaïs Nin
In 1995, I could not hang in there any longer. Therefore, I broke out and
got a divorce.
One day when I arrived at my office, I was surprised to see the
Chairman of the Board, who requested my keys and fired me. This was my
first and most brutal experience with an ambush. Suddenly, I was—for the
first time in my adult life—without a job. However, I was very well known in a
variety of circles—therapy, academics, the clergy, and the military.
I reached out; I got some free lunches, picked up part-time college teaching, and received some minimal help from the church. In the midst of this
chaos that had emerged in my life, God managed to intervene.
August Lageman Ph.D
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“In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently
you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you.”
—Jack Kornfield, Buddha’s Little Instruction Book
The Three Angels
The first was Colonel Walter R. Mueller, my brigade commander and a
Dustoff pilot in Vietnam. Colonel Mueller asked how I was doing financially.
“Not well,” I replied. Heather was out of college, but Sarah was only halfway
through. I was $45,000 in debt. Colonel Mueller said he had $100,000 and had
me covered. I never borrowed any money from him, but I now had a financial
safety net.
Soon another angel appeared with Allen (a gunship pilot), who offered a
car if I needed it. After two angels, I quit hyperventilating, but something was
missing; these things usually come in threes. Joe, who had been a right-side
door gunner in Vietnam, came and looked me in the eye and said, “Who did
this to you, and would you like them either maimed or killed?” I had some nice
fantasies on that offer. I answered, “I will do better if I put my energies into a
positive direction. I know you have my back.” Joe replied, “Yes, I do have your
back.”
My deepest experience of community was in the military. My military colleagues simply do not leave the wounded lying by the side of the road.
Now I was single and out of work but with adequate support. Then came a
blessing. I was offered an active duty tour in Germany for one year. There went
90 percent of my debt. As I navigated this unexpected part of my life, I strongly
identified with Odysseus (I reread The Odyssey in earnest).1
Similar to Odysseus
and his comrades, I too, experienced a breakout, an ambush, and a military
tour, which started me on a twenty-year journey.
“Tell me what it is you plan to do with your one wild and precious life.
A ship is safe in harbor, but that is not what ships are built for.”
—John A. Shedd
As I write this, I am making a conscious effort to do so from my heart and
not my head. I have learned some heartfelt lessons.
First, therapy can get you started but can only take you the first part of the
journey. Second, pay close attention from where your support comes. In my
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case, it was from the military. Third, I have a new and deeper understanding
of what a friend is and how to be a friend to others.
After a year of active duty, I came back rejuvenated and out of debt. I made
a decision to take every military opportunity that came my way, and this I did.
I took a full-time position at a large United Methodist Church in Kingsport,
Tennessee. You see, I think of my life in terms of Odysseus’ journey to a strange
land—the South. The mistake I made was not that of geography, but that of
rededicating myself to the United Methodist Church. For the first time, I
even gave 10 percent of my salary in tithes to the church. Yet after one year,
the church terminated my minister of counseling position; another ambush.
Veterans were helpful here. One told me that it is not how many times you
get knocked down, but in getting up one more time than you were knocked
down. I met with the Bishop at a conference and requested admission into
the conference. He turned me down. At the time, I was bitterly disappointed,
but now I am glad. At the time, this led to more active duty, working four jobs,
and paying the bills. Throughout this period, two books were my companions:
Homer’s The Odyssey and the Bible.2
“Religion is like a raft. Once you get across the river, moor the raft
and go on. Don’t lug it with you if you don’t need it anymore.”
—Karen Armstrong
The next lesson came through in neon lights. I only stayed in parish work
thirteen years. The pastor aspect was fine, but being a paid religious worker
meant answering to your employer—the church. The church is about indoctrination into a way of thinking and believing. I came to realize that there is
another aspect—that is, that institutional religion functions as an inoculation.
It gives you a small dose so that you do not fall into the hands of the living
God and a religious experience. The American theologian Reinhold Niebuhr
understood this when he wrote religion is “anxious self-protection,” as did
Robert Jay Lifton when he described religion as “denial based consolation.”
More military tours followed. I was blessed to do a final tour in the summer
of 2003 and retire on German soil. Finally, a good ending. My replacement
had not yet arrived. I retired at age sixty and started my military pension. The
four-star commander of the United States Army in Europe hired me as a civilian at Colonel’s pay, so for the summer, I had two full-time jobs. I received the
Legion of Merit Award at the end of my thirty years of service.
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In 2005, I took an early retirement from the United Methodist Church, a
quiet ending and goodbye to Bible Belt religion. The next decade of my life was
devoted to full-time college teaching.
My Early Childhood and Growing-Up Years
As I mentioned earlier, I was knocked unconscious by my father when I was
eight, probably for doing something a young boy was not supposed to do. I kept
my distance from him after that and was successful in not giving him any reason
for another beating. I grew up fearing him.
After graduating from high school, I attended college for a year, then
joined the U.S. Marine Corps Reserves. My family still lived in Williamsport,
Maryland, and I went home for a visit. My young brother was upstairs sneaking a cigarette. Dad went up, put out the fire, and threw him down the stairs
head first. This broke his nose (one of seven times). At the time, I was doing
a lot of weightlifting and other forms of athletics. I told my father to stop. He
replied that I was not in charge, to which I said, “No, I am not, but it is time
you fought someone your own size.” Actually, I was thirty pounds heavier than
he was. He swung at me, but missed. I counterpunched, hitting him as hard
as I could. Down went the man I had feared growing up. My mother got in
the middle to prevent further violence. I glanced at him and said, “If you ever
hit me again, I will break every bone in your body!” There were no visits for
a long while. I have not had a physical fight with anyone since then. One of
my blessings was my relationship with my four grandparents. They loved me
and showed it. I believe they knew what was going on at home, but did not
intervene; the belief in the Fifties was that a man’s home was his castle.
Reflecting back on this fight, it has had a profound effect on my life and
my family.
I am the oldest of five children, and I knew that someday I would
stand up to the “giant.” It brought me closer to my brother but only for a
while. Something of my own understanding became very important in my
life. I never considered myself to be abused or to have been a victim. This type
of thinking in therapeutic circles was popular in the Eighties and spread into
the culture as a whole. I struggled throughout my life to have a semblance of
a normal relationship with my father. My blessing is that I have always been
able to stand outside the triangle of disempowerment that contains the victim,
the victim’s persecutor, and the victim’s rescuer.
August Lageman Ph.D
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“May I be fitted with loving kindness. May I be safe
from inner and outer danger. May I be well in
body and mind. May I be at ease and happy.”
—Anonymous
Six years ago, when my father was dying at age 88 in a Harrisburg hospital, I actually had five positive phone calls and conversations with him. Several
weeks later, the estate was settled, and his net worth was around one million
dollars. It was divided equally among my three living siblings. When I heard
about this, I roared with laughter. It was my $100,000 punch! I have not heard
from my siblings since.
During my first soul retrieval, the shaman found me in a cave as an eightyear-old with a badly injured right leg. Earlier in my life, I had dealt with my
situation while growing up, but now I had been healed at the deepest level
possible, that of the energetic. I was now free!
I was finishing shaman school, and in the death and dying course, the
instructor asked for a volunteer who had lost a family member. I raised my
hand. The instructor found my father in the stone people world. I went on a
journey and met him there. He was shocked that I had found him. I told him
that I loved him and forgave him. I then gave him a gift—an upgrade to the
next level, the plant people.
While on my final active duty tour, I was awakened in my quarters by
seven energetic presences, the main characters in my first two ambushes. I
knew their names, social security numbers, and addresses. This same group
reappeared in October of the same year. I called a shaman in Eugene, Oregon.
Subsequently, the group has not reappeared in twelve years. The shaman, Kathlyne, did a soul retrieval two months later and found me as an eight-year-old
with the original wound.
Kathlyne knew nothing of my childhood history, yet she found the pivotal
event in my first twenty years. This was my first soul retrieval!
“A bird sitting on a tree is never afraid of the branch
breaking, because her trust is not on the branch but
on its own wings. Always believe in yourself.”
—Anonymous
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I retired from the Army Reserves as a full colonel in the late summer of
2003.
I pursued my own healing with Kathlyne. All of this work was done in
the distance format. I have not met Kathlyne in person, nor have I been to
Eugene, Oregon. I then pursued my own healing locally with two Cherokee
medicine women and a Sioux Indian medicine woman.
As mentioned earlier, I retired early from the United Methodist Church in
2005. From 2003–2013, I spent a decade teaching college. I taught psychology, philosophy, and comparative religion, first at Virginia Intermont College,
then at Lindsey Wilson College in Kentucky and finally at Radford University
in Virginia, two unplanned shifts. However, I had achieved my goal of teaching for a decade.
In January of 2007, I was more finished than not with my own healing. I
attended a workshop at the Omega Institute in Upstate New York, given by
Dr. Alberto Villoldo. I had found the person to teach me about shamanism.
In 20 I 0, I graduated from the Four Winds Society’s Light Body School.3
I continued in their “way of the sage” program with more courses and a three-week
trip to Sacred Valley and Machu Picchu in Peru.
From 2010–2013, I switched to teaching part time, so I was able to begin
a full-time practice five years ago. Now, I am doing what I love to do: healing
people, places, and animals.
About the Author
August Lageman had a career as a pastor, a college teacher, and a psychotherapist. He served in the military for over twenty-nine years and did enlisted service in the US Marine Corps in the early sixties. Then August was commissioned as an officer in the Army Reserves and National Guard, serving both in the reserves and on active duty. He retired with over twenty-nine years of service as a full colonel in 2003. August trained as a shaman in the Four Winds Society, graduating in 2010.
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