Animism: The Worldview We Forgot
Peeking through the looking glass
“I think therefore I am.”
That was the defining thought that kicked off this current era of human experience. Descartes and his Reductionism. It’s the foundation for our sciences, for allopathic medicine—it’s even the premise for Capitalism.
But what if Descartes had an incredibly limited view of what “thought” is? What if this thesis—the foundation for the hierarchy of societal value—was flawed from the start? What if he was wrong?
Humans have made incredible advancements since embracing Cartesian ideology. That scientific method I just mentioned? It’s pretty badass, honestly. It’s propelled humanity forward in ways that can’t be overstated.
But removing the idea of a soul—or even just sentience—from animals, plants, and every other non-human being? That’s had consequences. Dire ones.
I would argue that many, if not all, of what plagues us globally is a result of reductionist thought (even the reductionist thought that was percolating before René). Maybe that’s just my persistent optimism.
Which brings us to animism—the worldview that too many of us have forgotten.
According to Oxford Languages, animism is:
the attribution of a soul to plants, inanimate objects, and natural phenomena.
the belief in a supernatural power that organizes and animates the material universe.
When I first started learning about all this, it was through the lens of my classically trained anthropology professor—who also happened to be besties with the Big Kahuna of the Hawaiian islands. He told stories of deities and offerings made to spirits in the African villages he visited during digs. He introduced us to the Hawaiian concept of Mana, the life-force energy that flows through all things.
Later, I walked The Red Road and studied the ways of this land through a Lakota perspective. Gathering medicines, processing herbs, tanning hides after a hunt, cooking and serving meals in traditional ways—all of it deepened my awareness of how everything is connected. These practices taught me how non-human beings communicate. More importantly, they taught me how to listen.
This is animism in action. Though it’s usually framed as a “religious belief” in textbooks, it feels more like a practice of reverence—a constant, living relationship with the ceremonial interplay of All That Is.
The buffalo taken in the hunt is honored in ceremony as a sacred Giveaway. Every part of the being is used, out of respect for the life sacrificed so that we may continue to live. When I harvest seeds, I take some for next year’s crop and leave some for the birds. The birds eat pests and fertilize the garden in return. When the Cottonwood tree is culled, tobacco is offered and a prayer is spoken—a recognition of its sacrifice, a life that may well have outlasted our own.
I might even argue that Hinduism is borderline—if not full-blown—animism. There’s this idea that Hinduism has 330 million gods, but that’s a misreading of the pantheon. Really, it’s that rivers, regions, and natural forces all have their own deities. We honor them with offerings, parties, and prayer. Pretty animistic, if you ask me.
(By the way, the term Animism was made up and coined by some white guy in the mid 19th century, same with the term Shaman. These weren’t labels people used for themselves. These weren’t “religions” that named themselves. These were living, breathing relationships with the world—practices so integrated into daily life that they didn’t need a title.
But language has its limits. It often falls woefuly short.)
The Root of All Spirituality?
Animism was the spiritual foundation of humanity. Some say it stretches back 50,000 years, lasting until about 3300 BC, when tribal cultures began shifting toward more “advanced civilizations.”
As humans moved away from hunter-gatherer life into agrarian societies, our gods changed too.
With farming came Feudalism—and then, the birth of the One True God. No longer were we tied to Mother’s moon-thly whims and the temperamental rhythms of the seasons. Now Daddy was in charge, and the world was expected to bend to his will.
Monotheism and monoculture grew together. We left our circles behind and began marching a straight line called “progress.”
For societies that have retained their Indigenous roots, animistic perspectives remain alive. From Pagans to First Nations communities, many still honor the Earth’s cycles. They understand that we are part of one organism. They acknowledge that animals, plants, seeds—even rocks—have their own will. Their own sentience. The ability to choose.
I believe we won’t see equality between sexes, castes, or races—we won’t have true animal rights, or forests safe from clearcutting, or land not sold off for profit—we won’t have clean air, clean land, or clean water, until we embrace an animistic perspective once more.
Even if only as metaphor.
Even if it’s “make-believe.”
It’s still better for the long-term survival of our species than the belief that some lives have more value than others.
The idea that some beings are closer to God—more sacred, more worthy—will always lead to exploitation, extraction, and oppression.
It’s a short-sighted way of thinking. And frankly, it’s stupid.
If we insist on being reductionist, let’s at least zoom out of our anthropocentric bubble and look at humanity within the web of life. From that vantage point, bombing each other—and the Earth—for profit and power is clearly insane. Destroying the ecosystems that keep us alive is suicidal.
To bring new life into a world so broken that our children are traumatized before they take their first breath? That’s not progress.
To think the person cleaning the toilet is less worthy of life than the one using it—and to ignore the made-up structures that created that imbalance—is a system that was never built to sustain us. It leads to misery. For everyone.
My own understanding of Animism didn’t come from a textbook. It came from relationships, from lived experience, and from ceremony, from the spirits, from the Earth.
It’s deeply shaped how I live my life. And when combined with the practice of shamanic journeywork, it becomes a powerful way to walk in the world—with reverence, reciprocity, and a felt sense of connection.
Want to learn more?
Join me on October 30th at 6pm PT for a free online talk exploring Animism as a forgotten worldview, a living practice, and a spiritual doorway we can all step through.