Don't Forget Your Lube
Chapter 27 of Neophyte: My Life In A Sex Cult
This is a chapter within my memoir, Neophyte, about my time in a harmful cult called the Deer Tribe Metis Medicine Society. It is not meant to be read as a stand-alone post. To view all book chapters, click here.
The Deer Tribe is a dangerous cult. While they present themselves as a spiritual community offering healing and empowerment, their practices are rooted in manipulation, control, and cultural appropriation. Like many cults, they offer moments of genuine connection and personal insight — but these are strategically used to gain trust and draw people deeper into a harmful system. Readers are encouraged to read the entire book before forming opinions about the Deer Tribe.
Chapter 27
Shamanic De-armoring began with a sweat lodge at Mukee’s house and a medicine teaching.
“Two weeks from now, your old armored bodies will be gone,” Brian Hayes, who was leading the sweat lodge, told our group. “You will be completely transformed. You’ll drive through life in the fast lane. It’s like trading in an old Chevy beater for a Lamborghini.”
The next evening, I was jittery and tense when Matthew and I arrived at the Rainbow Powers Center for our first session. As we pulled into the parking lot off Cactus and 64th, I was struck by how ordinary the adobe building looked. There were no signs, symbols, or vibrant colors like Silver’s ashram. Just plain beige walls and a modern desert landscape. Given what went on here, I figured the Deer Tribe preferred to keep a low profile.
Inside, on the way to the big gym, I passed classrooms and private offices. The RPC was the Deer Tribe’s home base and the hub for numerous longhouse programs.
Nikki, the female neophyte from our first Q, stood by the double doors leading into the gym. She handed us waivers to sign, then gave us each a thin manual.
“Smudge yourself before going in,” she said, holding out an abalone shell filled with smudge mixture.
The gym was huge, with floor-to-ceiling mirrors covering one wall and a massive painting on the other. It was of Grandfather Two Bears, SwiftDeer’s Navajo teacher. I recognized it instantly as one of Silver’s paintings, for he had a print hanging at the Ashram.
On another wall, dozens of martial arts swords were displayed in neat rows. In one corner, at the edge of a triangular platform, sat SwiftDeer’s shrine: a framed photo, a lit candle, and a bowl of smudge.
My gut tightened when I saw the seven black, body-sized mats lined up in a single row across the room. Those were the mats where we would de-armor ourselves. Next to each mat were two chiropractic massage tools, and at the head of each one, a small pillow.
Brian Hayes sat at a foldout table at the front of the room, staring intently at his phone. In my experience, Brian was never that social. He didn’t mingle much with participants and wasn’t that approachable. I knew we were supposed to admire him, since he was named SwiftDeer’s successor, but I was unimpressed and thought he seemed snobbish.
To my surprise, Linda Clarke sat next to him. I vaguely knew her from SunDance. She had done my Book of Life reading. I also knew she was one of the Hereditary Lineage Leaders, a select group of six upper-gateway apprentices personally chosen by SwiftDeer to lead the Path. They were the most advanced apprentices in the Deer Tribe.
Catrina Novak, Brian’s wife, who had recruited me into the program, was nowhere to be found.
The rest of the participants arrived, and I waited quietly for the session to begin.
“Our soul has a dream of what it needs to learn in this lifetime,” Brian said, his voice steady and confident. He scanned the room, meeting each person’s eyes for a moment before moving on.
“Our soul longs to shine, and it needs to go through certain lessons to grow. That’s why the soul chooses a core wound. It’s part of our soul’s design.”
Linda spoke next. “There are five types of core wounds. Our body armor develops out of that core wound and becomes our body character type. There’s a light side and a dark side to every body type. Up until now, you’ve probably been living mostly in the dark. Over the next two weeks, you’ll break that armor and start healing your core wound. Then you’ll begin to step into the light side of your body character type.”
Brian nodded. “Linda and I speak from experience. All the leaders on our Path have gone through Shamanic De-armoring. It’s what gave us true freedom. Now, open your manuals to page twelve. You’ll see a wheel teaching called the Five Body Character Types. We’re going to walk you through each one. As we go, you’ll start to recognize yourself in one of these types.”
I flipped open my manual to page twelve, eager to take it all in.
“The Oral Body Character Type is in the south, with the element of water and the human aspect of emotion,” Linda began. “Orals experienced their core wound when they were babies, usually around three months old. They became Orals because they felt abandoned by their primary caretaker. They longed for love and comfort, but their parents couldn’t give it to them.”
Linda paused, then continued, “Orals were often left to cry alone in their cribs. They cried until they were so exhausted that they stopped. That’s what wounded them—the feeling of abandonment. After that, Orals grow up thinking their needs are dangerous, because they don’t expect them to be met. They start questioning: why even have needs?”
“SwiftDeer used to say the Oral is starving at the banquet of life,” Brian jumped in.
Linda nodded. “He said that to me all the time.”
She went on. “Orals also have a distinct physique. They tend to have slumped shoulders and an oval-shaped figure. They store body fat in the middle because they’re afraid of not getting what they need. Deep down, they believe the world isn’t nourishing. And when they feel overwhelmed, they collapse—hence the slumped shoulders.”
“But once they de-armor,” Brian added, “Orals become powerful healers. They develop an endless capacity to nourish others.”
There was a brief silence while everyone caught up on their notes.
Brian continued. “Alright, let’s move to the west, which is the place of the earth element and the physical body human aspect. In the west is the Schizoid. Schizoids experienced the earliest core wound of all the types. They felt unwelcome in the womb. They grow up with a profound fear of annihilation. Imagine living with the constant feeling that you could be destroyed at any moment. To protect themselves, Schizoids spread their energy out, and their physique becomes long and lanky. They often have an S-shaped spine and a fuzzy sense of boundaries. They learn to detach from their emotions because everything feels like a threat they can’t handle. When overwhelmed, Schizoids withdraw and fragment.”
Linda nudged Brian. “Give them an example of how a Schizoid might’ve felt unwelcome in the womb.”
Brian nodded. “Sure. My wife, Catrina, is a Schizoid. She was a wanted child, but her parents had an issue. As her mother’s body changed during pregnancy, her father started to lose his sexual attraction to her. That conflict created an energetic tension that Catrina felt in the womb.”
“But once Schizoids de-armor, they become incredible multitaskers,” Linda added. “They’re highly creative, with eclectic tastes.”
“Moving on,” Brian said, “Let’s talk about the Masochist in the north. In the north is the air element and the mental human aspect. The Masochist’s core wound is humiliation, and it usually happens between the ages of one and three. A classic example is a mom shopping with her two kids. The older one needs to use the bathroom, and she pressures the younger one to go too, even if they don’t need to. The child feels humiliated because they can’t make themselves go. For Masochists, the core issue is pressure to meet expectations they’re not ready for.”
Brian spoke fast. “They carry a bottom-heavy physique, and their default response is to resist. SwiftDeer used to say the Masochist drives through life with the brakes on. But when they de-armor, they become natural energy generators.”
Linda smiled and looked over at Brian. “Alright, Brian, you love taking the lead. Why don’t you explain the Psychopath? I hear it’s your favorite!”
“Well, that’s because the Psychopath is the best body character type!”
“So says the Psychopath.”
Brian’s grin faded, and he grew serious again. “The Psychopath is in the east with the fire element and the spiritual aspect. Their core wound is betrayal, and it typically happens between the ages of one and five. Their core wound was a result of being seduced and then betrayed by their opposite-sex parent.
“When I was a kid, my dad was often away, and when he was gone, my mom showered me with affection. But when he came back, everything shifted. She withdrew from me and gave all her attention to him. That’s the kind of betrayal that creates a core wound in the Psychopath.
“For Psychopaths, betrayal is always a looming threat. We feel like our survival is at risk, and that makes us deeply suspicious of everyone. In the dark, Psychopaths control and manipulate others. They like having people in their life who depend on them—it makes them feel important and in control. But they rarely allow themselves to depend on others. That would be too risky. Physically, Psychopaths carry their energy high in our chest, so we look like an upside-down triangle—wide shoulders, narrow waist. But once we de-armor, we develop a sharp survival instinct, an ability to endure anything, and a natural warrior spirit.”
“Brian can talk about being a Psychopath all day,” Linda grinned. “But, our students have their first orgasm to get to. Let’s wrap this up.”
“Take it away, Linda.”
“In the center, with the void element and our sexuality, is the Rigid. Their core wound is rejection, and it typically happens between the ages of three and seven. The Rigid’s core wound is always in relation to their father. For little boys, they want to feel valued by their dad, so they focus on performing perfectly in order to please him. For little girls, her father is her hero. But as she begins to develop, her father rejects her because he is frightened by her sexual maturation. Brian, you have a rigid posture. What would you add?”
“Rigids have incredibly tender hearts that are locked behind the world’s strongest security system,” Brian said with a smile. “The slightest thing can cause their heart to close. They place a high value on perfection. They have the perfect armor, and they have the perfect physique: a proportionate, rectangular shape. Of course, SwiftDeer called their physique ‘the coffin’ because they are so locked in.”
Linda nodded. “But once they de-armor, Rigids become adaptable and fluid. They learn to seek excellence over perfection and become fearless truth-tellers.”
“This week, each of you will learn your body character type,” Linda informed us. “In our tradition, this is called your Stance. It’s your armored reality pattern. It’s how you play out your wounding in your day-to-day life. You also have a secondary body character type, called your Posture. Your Posture developed as a response to your core wound, and its primary function has been to rescue your Stance. In Shamanic De-armoring, you are de-armoring your Stance. At the end of our two weeks, we will explain breathwork you will need to do at least three times a week for the next six months. This breathwork is for your Posture. It’s essentially how you will rewrite your Posture’s job description.”
“Alright, enough teaching for tonight!” Brian said loudly. “Nikki’s going to announce your pod assignments. You’ll stay with the same pod for the whole workshop.”
My heart pounded as I waited for my pod assignment. Relief washed over me when I saw I was with Matthew and a Polish woman named Anna, who seemed nice.
“Take a break,” Linda called. “Fifteen minutes, then meet back here. And come back in your ‘working clothes.’”
Brian shouted after everyone, “Don’t forget your lube!”
And so began our first night of a shamanic healing ceremony that promised to change our lives in ways we could hardly imagine.
Go to Chapter 28.