Quynn Red Mountain

Quynn Red Mountain (They/She) is a Pastoral Counselor and lead ordained Animist Minister for Earth Web Media’s “Web of Life Animist Church” .  They are an OOlah (One Who Balances), a Spirit Bridge practitioner for Earth honoring People.

Quynn was raised on the lands of the Multnomah Peoples (Portland, OR), born of White settler parents who have/had good souls and were connected with the lands in their own ways. Pandemic Sickness, invisibility in plain sight, combat veterans and generations of alcoholics are recent Trances of our Ancestors. Their adult life has been dedicated to the process of personal and ancestral healing in their self and in others, as well as forging an authentic and non-appropriated lifeway/spiritual practice that has been Spirit guided. All of Quynn’s offerings come from their personal scope of practice and areas of knowing. She acknowledges the pain caused by white supremacy/colonized mind and honors that the land of her birth belongs to the People who have always lived here.

In her/their own tradition, Quynn was named “OOlah”-One Who Balances.
A Queerful Trance Warrior on behalf of the Peoples of Earth,
They are of the Butterfly People, Raven Clan and Beaver Lodge.
Bear claims her as their own and protects their work.

Quynn’s work specifically speaks to those of “The Forgotten Peoples”, meaning those who’s ancestors have been made to forget their Animist/Earth honoring lineages, and that “forgetting” was passed on to us. Our generations are the “Remembering Peoples”. She considers this work to be inner justice healing work, which enhances and accelerates the desire for kindness and consideration for self and others.

“Welcome to my corner of the world. Over 20 years ago, I was called to what I called at the time, the “Shamanic” Arts, in a profound and logically unexplainable way. Through my experiences and research I have been shown how to connect with my Guides and Guardians through Intuition, Creativity and the spirits of Nature. I seek to inspire others to learn how to reconnect for themselves so that they feel empowered to be their authentic Self and speak for the Earth and its creatures. The methods used are ancient and accessible to anyone. Full Circle Animism is for those who have made to forget their animist lineage. It is time to remember!”

Quynn honors her Slavic, Gaelic and Nordic ancestors, as well as her original ancestors of west Africa (Mother Africa). She also honors her kin of the animal people of this beautiful Earth.

* In the early years of my work, I used the word “shamanic” because I felt called to this path by my Ancestors, and I didn’t have another word for who and what I am. For the past years I have been using the word “Animist” and “Animism”, to mean that we are all a part of the sacred Web of Life, and we are all connected. Please forgive the use of the word “shamanic” at this site. I know that this is the word that draws people in search engines, so now that you are here, let’s share the worlds of Animism together!

Quynn is also a Raven merchant, a ceremonial performer, poet, author and ordained Animist Minister with Earth Web Media.  Have Quynn officiate your Marriage or Ceremony!

For 10 summers between 2000 and 2010 Quynn traveled around the western United States, meeting a few of the many sacred land places now called “public lands”. Each year for 4-5 months she lived without running water or electricity, and camped on “public”/stolen native lands.  Within the stillness of these migrations Quynn wrote two books and listened to the spirits of the land.  The land, animals and weather sent Quynn many stories, poems and revelations her life and Life in general, and the great amounts of quiet were her strong teachers.  She learned to tame her mind so she can be strong and listen to the world around her.  Now Quynn relies on these great teachings as she finds ways to listen within the worlds of people and city life so she can hold space for others as they explore their inner worlds.  Quynn offers respect and acknowledgement to the Indigenous Peoples who have always lived, hunted, fished and gathered on the lands of the continent where Quynn is now a visitor.

Leave No Trace. Offer Respect. Ask for Permission.

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Testimonials:

“I would like to recommend Quynn Red Mountain as an outstanding “shamanist”. I have worked with Quynn for three years and have made great progress…Quynn serves as a catalyst to help an individual bring forth their intuitive self and to guide a person to develop in a way best for them. I respect her and trust her to help me see for myself my way in spirit.” (written in 2001)

“Quynn’s unique way, or shall I say, gift, for teaching is like no other. She will guide you through journeys with your ancestors, guides, angels, higher self, and totem animals through her instruction and dynamic drumming. Teachers like Quynn are a rare find.”   June de Arballo of www.meaningfulthings.net

“Quynn brings the real deal. She is a graceful and humble yet direct teacher sharing her skills with community in a myriad of ways. I’m never left wanting or disappointed. I know her group will deliver exactly what I’m looking for. Thanks for being there. “

“Quynn, you have really helped me to grow and expand my horizons, my inner knowledge and my potential through your insightfulness, the wonderful blessings of the journeying group, and just by being you.  They say “the teacher will come when the student is ready.” I feel you were placed into my life at a time I was ready to learn from you. Thank you.” Judi

“Quynn, thanks for you, who you are, what you do and the way in which you are able to help us find the bright parts of ourselves we have hidden and denied for years!” K in Tucson

“Quynn, Your footsteps leave a trail for many to follow as they learn to make their own path.”  B

To find out more about Quynn and her projects in life, go to www.quynn.com :)

Quynn’s Calling Experience (A “Ghost” Story)

When one begins a story, one begins at the beginning, unless one needs to begin in the middle.  Consider the following story both the middle, and the beginning, of the bigger story that wants to be told.

One Sunday night in September of 1996, I went to bed early.  Then, around midnight, I woke up, sort of.  Many times before this I awoke feeling drugged and that I was still in a dream. One time I found myself sitting up in bed, trying to find the clutch in my car so I could go home in my ‘dream’. On this autumn night, I apparently woke under similar conditions, except there was a difference. I knew I was bleeding from my face and I was trying to find something to cover me because I didn’t have any clothes on.  I remember saying out loud in the dark, trying to wrench myself awake, “Oh my god!”

Not being able to find the light switch, I groped around my dark bedroom until I found a comforter to wrap around me.  Then I opened my bedroom door just as my roommate was getting there to get me out of the house.  She had the bedroom in the back of the house and she apparently woke up suddenly thinking that what woke her was an earthquake.  (She is from central California and is generally used to such occurrences.)  She got up and got under the doorway (what you are supposed to do in an earthquake) and then she thought, “I’ve got to get Quynn out of the house!” so she came to my bedroom door.  Later she said that as she was approaching the door she heard me say “Oh my god!”… and thought “who is in there with her?” but just as she was going to open the door, I did.

Then she said “Oh my god!!” as I opened the bedroom door to go to the bathroom.  I must have had my eyes closed because I did not see her, nor did I see myself at this point either.  She said “Who is in there with you?” “No one” I said, quite calmly “just call 911”.  The strange thing, among other things of course, was that I was completely calm.  Even though I was disoriented, at no time did I feel violated or that I was in danger.  I knew that something had happened, and I knew my body was hurt, so I wanted the 911 people to come.

My roommate asked “should I take you to the hospital?” “No” I said “just call 911”.  I went into the bathroom, dumped the comforter on the ground and sat on the toilet.  Sitting there naked, I could finally see my lower body and I was shocked to see drying streaked blood all over my legs.  I could feel something dripping from my face so I tried to find the source. I felt one bleeding place, which was the left side of my forehead, then another, right across the bridge of my nose.  Both hands settled on these wounds as I tried to stop the bleeding.  Then I felt another drip. This time my hand told me that my right nostril was bleeding.

All this time I was having flashes of what felt like a dream.  The first one was of an opening and closing talon, a bird’s claw.  The other one was more complicated. I could see myself looking up at a gray sky, dark gray like dusk, but then I could see what I assumed was the shadow side of a round object (which was darker gray) falling towards my head.  These two images kept running through my mind, as I tended my bleeding face.

While all this was going on in the bathroom, I could also hear my roommate speaking with the woman on the other end of 911.  “My roommate just got hurt in the earthquake”, I heard her say. It was obvious that the 911 operator asked her “what earthquake?”, because she said “the one five minutes ago”.  Then I could tell that the operator asked my roommate if she was on medication because the answer on this end was “no, I’m not on drugs!”  At this point, my attention came back to my bleeding experience.

A little while later I heard the sirens pull up and I hurriedly reached for the comforter again to cover my naked, blood streaked body.  A few minutes later a whole gaggle of Emergency Medical Technicians entered the house. If I remember correctly, there were five or six uniforms in my house.  The guy that actually helped me had an interesting reaction to my wounds. “Woah!, did your dog do that?” he asked. “No” I said, surprised at that possibility.  However, when I thought about it I knew that was impossible because my dog Dylan was shut out of my room.  This started the process of me thinking “what in the world did do this to me…?”

Mr. 911 wanted to take me to the hospital, but my intuition said “No!” because it was Sunday and I did not want to have to explain what happened to me.  I had a feeling they might not let me go home after I told them. Even though I hadn’t had much time to ponder what had just happened, it was all just a bit too weird.   Luckily, I didn’t have to have stitches on the wound across my nose bridge. “It was like it was done with a razor, a clean cut” the friendly yet perplexed emergency helper told me.  He asked me to sign a release and they all left, probably thinking that we were either both on drugs, lying or crazy.

The paramedics tried to come up with an explanation for how my face was bleeding in three places.  They couldn’t and I couldn’t.  After they left, I sat in the kitchen, smoking cigarettes with my roommate, feeling stunned.  I realized that something very strange had just happened and the explanation was not quite a “logical” one.  My intuition said not to go to the hospital because I didn’t want to have to explain what had happened to me.  I wasn’t even sure. I only knew that something profound had occurred.

I woke up the next day with a bruised and swollen face, and bruises all down the right side of my body.  Since I still couldn’t piece together what had happened,  I decided to try hypnosis (which I had never experienced before) to help me remember how I was hurt in my sleep.  During the hypnosis process, I remembered a series of dreams I had during my childhood.  These dreams were very meaningful and surreal for me, yet I never shared them with anyone because I couldn’t describe them logically.

All of a sudden in the hypnosis session I knew that whatever had come to me in the night was related to the dreams of my childhood.  I immediately knew that what had come for me had loving intentions.  I cannot describe why, I just knew it in my heart.  Now, I know that all this may sound crazy to some and strange to others.  Believe me, a slice of my mind agrees with you.  But have you ever had an experience that had no logical explanation yet you knew it was real? This experience was real and my life immediately changed in dramatic ways.

I have heard stories from people who have had near death experiences.   Each said that the experience defined the rest of their lives as moments of before and after.  This was my life changing moment.  I had been called to something, something ancient and powerful, even though my suburban mind had no way of wrapping itself around it.

The next few weeks were like a dream.  I was introduced to a woman who helped me learn to train my mind to ‘meditate’, and when I did this (again, for the first time), a tunnel would appear in my mind’s eye. A swiftly swirling tunnel that moved so fast it made me nauseous, so I opened my eyes.   A surreal horse/rabbit creature that had just come to me in a dream came again in this swirling moment and she said “try again”, so I did and again, I spun downward too fast and opened my eyes. “Practice every day and you will learn how to do it” she said in my head. “Do what?!” I pleaded in my mind.

A short time later my mother heard my story and handed me a book. It was an old copy of Michael Harner’s book “The Way of the Shaman”.  As I read about people in traditionally shamanic cultures who were called to the path of the shaman, it all began to sound familiar.  Then, I read a description of, as Harner called it a ‘shamanic journey’, and there was my tunnel.  I had to read the passage twice to let it sink in. “Practice, and you will learn how to do it” her voice echoed in my mind again.  Now I was getting an idea of what ‘it’ was.    As I continued to read I realized that the experience being described by this anthropologist as shamanic initiation was, in my own way, happening to me. In that moment of finding my tunnel in this book, I knew I was not crazy.  Even though it seemed impossible, I was being given a gift and a responsibility, and I have taken it with gratitude and awe. I have my own language for it now, and I am grateful.