Making the tambourine and its animation is a mystical process and closely connected with its owner’s life, in particular with my – Vladimir Kalabin’s – life. At the moment I can assert: we have each other. I have born it. My tambourine is alive (hereinafter I’ll call it Tambourine) and it has a name. My Tambourine’s name is Khors.

I have never loved Andersen’s fairy tales, particularly about the everyday things which talk to each other. They always end somehow with nothing: some dish is broken, or a miserable Christmas tree is burnt after the celebration and its being lost for a year in the attic. The author can’t do without the torture of the girl having matches who is being frozen near the rich house.

Shaman’s Stories. Part 1

In 1928, my maternal grandfather, Pavel Petrovich, of 12, together with some other boys stole a 5-liter bottle of self-made alcohol from the adults, first tasted the 100-grade-drink and went to test each other: who was a true male and who wasn’t. The test was cruel, but the alcohol boldness supported the deliberate bravery. They put a corroded shell found the day before into the fire. They stood around the fire waiting for the first boy to show his fear. The boys tried to summon up courage as none wanted to be a coward. A branch deafeningly crackled in the fire, and everyone twitched, but then laughed with relief, “The danger is past!” At that moment the shell burst up. Granddad was contused; a shell splinter cut off his right arm up to the elbow. The others died.

Shaman’s Stories. Part 2

My roots sprouted into Siberian land as follows. My mother bore me at the age of 37 from a married man with whom she didn’t communicate any longer. When I asked about my father, I was answered that I had never had any father but had three mothers: Aunt Larisa, mother Lyuda and grandmother (Granny). I believed in it until the age of 13 but then began to hesitate. My friends explained that children are born because of “coition” and not of the Holy Ghost. After asking about the details I made sure of it. Then I first tried to escape from the nest in summer when I went to the sports-labour camp. And at the night before the leaving my mother told me who my father was (not to let guys torment me when asking about my father). But I stopped believing my relatives completely. I tried to forget about grandmother’s stories for a long time and become an independent person, but I failed. The three unhappy women’s love was suffocating: they tried to find in me a father, a brother, a husband-defender and a son – the only continuer of the Clan and the successor of the Veda knowledge. It pressed my breast and throat: bronchial asthma, spinal trauma in the breast section, follicular tonsillitis at the least cold, hemorrhoid.

Shaman’s Stories. Part 3

I went to school when I was 8 years old. Granny was still psychically insane and concentrated only on me. We lived in a small house, too small for all of us. A new flat was promised to us we had been waiting for 15 years. The house was near “the Birch Wood” – the park situated on the place of a ruined cemetery. The church had been ruined by tanks in spite of the people’s indignation. My attitude to the Christian priests is negative, but the church was one of the oldest ones in the city, and during the Soviet power people had no other alternative except Christian orthodoxy. So to say, the place was not good. One wall of our house was burnt out as it had been the additional building to the main, very old one. Behind that wall there were only bulks of ash and a rusted chain with a hook. The chain was always squeaking, particularly at night, as if a little girl was crying.

Reading this text is a kind of micro-initiation, Shaman traveling, communion with the space of Urban-Shamanism forces.

Hi! I invite you to carry out an absorbing and terrifying journey into the world of Spiritual Realities to get Force and Knowledge. It is not necessary to do the rituals suggested by me practically; you can confine yourself to thinking and dreaming on this theme, or simply reading it. The result will come soon.

Sometimes changes happen at once, instantly. It can be recovering from old diseases which not only doctors but the tiered patient himself don’t believe in any longer; or an unexpected phone call from an almost forgotten friend who offers a new and perspective project; or a meeting with your beloved for the rest of your life. And it is a feeling of the incredibly deep and unite existence of yours, the sense of the surrounding world’s support and in the deepest corners of your soul.

Hello, my dear reader! I wish you light and warmth. I’ll tell you about Urban Shamanism and give some pieces of advice how to find the sources of Force inside you and outside. If you want, you will find. It will prove useful to you in your life.

I live in the city and am not going to move to the countryside. I communicate with the Spirits of city nature. I feel that the whole world surrounding us is alive and pulsing. But the consciousness of natural Spirits differs greatly from that of the city ones. So, Marsh Spirit and Municipal Sewerage Spirit have similar nature which is deadly for people; but like marsh was necessary for our ancestors as they picked cranberries and some other things needed and important for their country life, the municipal sewerage system is inevitable in the City life as well.