The care of the Udjibbom

By Laurie Leclair

During the summer of 1929, anthropologist Diamond Jenness spent seven weeks among the Anishinabek of Wasauksing. He spoke with several Ojibwa, Potawatomi, and Métis residents, among them Jonas King, Jim Nanibush, Mary Sugedub, James Walker, and the decorated World War I Warrior Francis Pegahmagabow. They talked about all aspects of life, death, and spirituality, and chose to share their belief that to be whole, a human being must have three parts to them: the wiyo, or corporal body; the udjptchog, or soul; and the udjibbom, or shadow.

Jonas King, who had been initiated into the Midewiwin Society in the 1870s, explained the udjibbom to Jenness:

The shadow is located in the brain, but like the soul often operates apart from the body. In life it is the “eyes” of the soul, as it were, awakening the latter to perception and knowledge. When a man is travelling his shadow goes before or behind him; normally it is in front, nearer to his destination. It often causes a twitching of the hunter’s eyelids, informing him that it has seen game ahead. There are times when a man feels that someone is watching him or near him, although he can see no one; it is his shadow that is warning him, trying to awaken his soul to perceive the danger…Throughout a man’s whole lifetime the shadow fulfils this function of enlightening the soul… [Jenness, 1935: 19]

The three parts of being are inseparable, especially the soul and the shadow. Without both of them the body will become ill. For example, the Wasaukings believed that if a person abused alcohol, or harmed animals or was cruel, he would lose his soul, creating a disharmony. This misalignment could be so strong that it could lead to intergenerational trauma. The udjibbom fulfils the function of reason and knowledge, it can keep the body safe and enlighten the soul.  It is particularly present, yet vulnerable, in babies and children. Jenness learned that when the soul and shadow are developing, they often reveal themselves while a person is in a dream state. Because of this, he was told that parents encouraged their children to remember and interpret their dreams. [Jenness, 1935: 48]

Although it is invisible, the udjibbom will sometimes appear in corporal form. Francis Pegahmagabow explained:

My two boys met me at the wharf yesterday evening and accompanied me to my house. Sometime before our arrival my sister-in-law looked out of the window and saw the elder boy pass by. It was really his shadow that she saw, not the boy himself for we must have been nearly a mile away at the time. [Jenness, 1935: 20]

Although it can shift and travel, the shadow remains in the earthly realm. Even at death, just as the soul separates from the body, the shadow of that person remains, usually peacefully and close to where that person is buried. The udjibbom is eternal.

There are unlimited resources available to Anishinaabe who wish to keep their wiyo, or body, healthy. Similarly, there are many spiritual paths along which a person may follow, but little has been written about the cultivation and care of the udjibbom.

When asked if “the shadow” is a good translation of udjibbom, Oshkaabewis (Traditional Helper) Perry McLeod-Shabogesic Anzoked, from Nipissing First Nation, says that this is one way of describing it, but notes that it is a challenge to express it in English. Instead, he prefers the older Anishinaabemowin words as they provide a fuller understanding of the udjibbom’s duality and balance. In other words, the udjibbom is the part of us that goes between the physical world and the realm of the spirits. When it enters the physical world, it can be comprehended by us as intuition or conscience. Whether we can feel it or not, the udjibbom is always with us, like a shadow that walks with us. He explains that when a person travels, the shadow goes either before or after him. When the shadow stays behind you, it can lead a person towards reflection. When it moves ahead of you, you may experience a premonition.

If an individual is composed of three parts, like the Wasauksing people told Jenness, at the point of death, the wiyo dies, and the udjptchog leaves for its journey through the Western Door, McLeod-Shabogesic explains. Sometimes, perhaps due to trauma in life, or unresolved guilt,  the udjptchog gets stuck and needs help. While it remains behind in the physical world, the udjibbom can help guide the udjptchog along its way to the Spirit World.

McLeod-Shabogesic believes that there is beauty and strength in cultivating a relationship with our own udjibbom. It can be a guide to how we behave, set intentions, and prognosticate. It is our inner voice, an advisor that we choose to listen to. And like any important relationship, the best way to encourage it is to acknowledge its presence, to believe in it. For some people, the censoring of Indigenous spirituality and language due to colonization and the imposition of Christianity has done much to discourage this relationship. But it is not lost. McLeod-Shabogesic suggests that you can help the process by actively interacting with your udjibbom, speaking to it, and feeding it. Anishinaabe who believe, or want to believe, can get help working with an Oshkaabewis by attending circles and participating in ceremonies and festivals.

“It’s not for everyone,” cautions Garden River/Serpent River visual artist and former professor Janice Toulouse-Shingwaukwe. “You are born with this gift, one that is extremely difficult to carry at times.”

Since childhood, Toulouse-Shingwaukwe has been aware that she had miniidoo mshkooziiwin (spiritual power) and over the years has done a lot of personal work in order to accept it as a powerful gift from the Creator. This gift has manifested itself in her art, where she expresses her relationship with the Spirit World through her paintings. It is also present in her approach to teaching art to others. She advises that when you cultivate your spiritual awakening, you start to understand that Anishinabek spirituality is tremendously powerful.

Spiritual work is not to be taken lightly, and you must protect yourself with the proper ceremonies and procedures. You need to be strong so that you can avoid going into those dark places. The more you are grounded in your beliefs, the easier it is to avoid negativity. It helps to have like-minded friends and teachers, like lodge brothers and sisters, and to call on Ancestors for strength and guidance. Toulouse-Shingwaukwe’s advice for younger Anishinaabe who want to get in touch with their own spirituality is similar: connect with your culture, learn the teachings of the Sweat Lodge, participate in ceremony, and protect yourself. She believes that each person’s journey is private. The journey is yours alone.

For Vicki Snache Giniwanangokwe, an Anishinaabekwe from Chippewas of Rama First Nation, the fact that this journey is private and sacred is the reason why much of Indigenous knowledge does not appear in written form. There is an etiquette involved in the transfer of knowledge.

“We know that emphasis is put on orthography in Western spiritual practice, but for Anishinaabeg, it is different,” Snache writes. “There are both written and oral protocols to maintain integrity of spiritual practice, which are the responsibility of societies to uphold. Just as orthographies are valid for Western practice, Anishinaabeg written and oral traditions are also valid and have been the core means of intergenerational knowledge transmission since time immemorial.”

Snache, who is familiar with Jenness’ writings, points out that for the most part, 19th and 20th-century ethnologists were motivated to document the world’s Indigenous Peoples and their perceived disappearing cultures to justify colonial expansion. But we are not completely cognizant of the pressures placed on those who shared their knowledge with these social scientists.

“Jenness was only in Wasauksing for seven weeks,” she writes. “We do not know the social, spiritual, or political climate of the time, except that our Ancestors must have lived in fear due to colonization and genocidal practices. We can speculate how much truth was changed, removed, and withheld to maintain integrity of our lifeways and keep participants safe while knowledge was being extracted from them during Jenness’ examinations. To gather informed data would require the analysis from spiritual leaders, and even then, we simply were not there 100 years ago.”

Snache’s words are borne out in the 1935 report, as the informants King, Walker and Pegahmagabow, while willing to speak about the properties of the udjibbom and to provide anecdotes, did not share details about ceremony or deeply spiritual teachings.

Attempting to revisit what was recorded nearly a century ago and place it into a narrative that would be useful to modern Indigenous (and other) scholars requires us to think beyond the written word. Snache does not see this process as decolonization, a word she interprets as heavily fear-based and penitential. Instead, she offers Eddie Benton-Banai-Bun’s word biskaabiiyaang (we are returning to ourselves). And this concept, while given from an Anishinaabeg perspective, has universal applications for anyone struggling with their spirituality or disconnection.

And with the idea of biskaabiiyaang, when asked what advice she would give to those in search of their udjibbom, Snache says it is about relationship and intention. The first question to ask is “Where do I come from?” Once you know that, you can build “your relationship with self and then extend to family, community, and all living things. This is part of Mino-bimaadiziwin (the good life). A full, experiential life engaging all aspects of being.”

Born in 1891, Francis Pegahmagabow was raised on Shawanaga First Nation territory by an Elder, Noah Nebimanyquod, and his wife, traditionalists who believed strongly in the importance of caring for the udjibbom. When Francis was just seven years old, his foster parents asked him to swallow a little gun powder so that his soul and his shadow would stay alert, observant, and open to a visit and a blessing from a manido. [Jenness, 1935: 48] Pegahmagabow became a highly decorated hero, having survived the duration of the Great War. He participated in the deadly campaigns of Ypres, the Somme, Passchendaele, and the Scarpe, and went on to be a Chief of Wasauksing First Nation, a councillor, and a strong advocate for Anishinabek treaty rights. Clearly, that small taste of makade went a long way.

Anishinaabemowin Glossary:

Biskaabiiyaang: We are returning to ourselves

Biskaabiiyaanh: I am returning to myself

Bitokomegog: “the tier or world below this earth” where the souls of animals rest.

Makade: Black gun powder

Miniidoo mshkooziiwin: Strength or power of the spirit

Oshkaabewis: A helper/a guide

Further Reading:

Diamond Jenness, The Ojibwa Indians of Parry Island, Their Social and Religious Life, Canada, Department of Mines, National Museum of Canada , Bulletin, no. 78, Ottawa 1935. Find it here: https://publications.gc.ca/site/eng/9.908393/publication.html

William E. Taylor, Jr., Peter Kikkert, “Diamond Jenness”, The Canadian Encyclopedia, (2016). Find it here: https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/diamond-jenness

Edward Benton-Banai, The Mishomis Book: The Voice of the Ojibway (St. Paul: Red School House Publishers, 1988)