The Naming Ceremony: Is Diagnosis a Modern Shamanic Ritual?

While the clinical world is often obsessed with "disorders," most of us know that’s a fundamentally broken way to describe our experience. Lately, I’ve been thinking that for many in the neurodivergent community, getting that formal recognition—or finding your own path to self-understanding—feels less like a medical report and more like a naming ceremony.
I have to give a huge nod to TheCatWoman for this spark. In a recent chat, she used the brilliant analogy: trying to run a neurodivergent brain on neurotypical psychology is like trying to run Windows on an Apple. It got me thinking—if the "operating systems" are that different, then the people who originally built these theories weren't really scientists in the modern sense. They were more like 20th-century shamans trying to map a spirit world they didn't fully understand.
In ancient cultures, a naming ritual was a way to reintegrate someone whose "spirit" seemed at odds with the world. Once named, the "problem" became a "trait," and the person could finally take their rightful place in the tribe. Whether that name comes from a formal assessment or through the "vision quest" of self-diagnosis, it’s a powerful moment of literal recognition. It's like finally identifying with your own spirit animal—finding the creature that actually matches your tracks, rather than trying to pretend you’re a wolf when you’re actually a horse.
I also noticed NAS recently asking the community to share their own tips for securing reasonable adjustments. I suspect they may have been pivoting from my earlier post about being fed up with the lack of them! In this shamanic framework, when a group asks the tribe for their "how-to" guides, they are gathering the communal wisdom needed to help us become the Architects of our own Sacred Space.
These adjustments—whether it's noise-cancelling, flexible hours, or literal task lists—are the protective boundaries that stop our "Apple" OS from overheating in a "Windows" world and the horses getting predated by the wolves.
For those of you who have found your "Name"—whether through a clinician or your own research—did it feel like a clinical label, or did it feel like a ceremony that finally brought your soul home?
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  • Ending the Tribal Fire: Closing the Circle for the Week
    In shamanic traditions, there is a time to journey and a time to bring those visions back into ordinary reality. I’ve been sitting back for a bit, watching the wyrd threads of this conversation weave together, and I’m just floored by the map we’ve built. It’s hard to believe this only started two days ago. For me, it has shown just how much real ground a group working together like this can cover—it is exactly the kind of thing I joined this forum for.
    Since my weekend is up and it’s time for the return to the Windows world of work tomorrow, I won't be quite as active here. My replies might take a bit longer as I navigate the weekday gears, but I wanted to take a moment to name-check the herd and the expertise you’ve all brought to the paddock: 
    •  , I want to offer a sincere apology for any over steer on my part. I realise my metaphor-rich way of thinking is quite heavy and isn't the easiest fit for everyone’s neurodivergent spectrum. While I am personally drawn to that magical way of seeing things, I truly value the grounded, critical anchor you and   brought to the thread. It kept us honest about the systems we have to navigate.
    •   , thank you for being the original teacher. Your independent cat energy and the enemy as teacher logic really helped us shift from fixing a disorder to working with our nature.
    •  , your Traffic Jam and Hourglass gave us the biological why behind the struggle and proved that building a bridge at work is a massive win.
    •  , your exquisite release and that Neolithic figurine... that’s the soul of the ceremony right there. Sixty years of wolf expectations falling away—it’s a powerful thing to witness.
    •    , my sincere thanks for the Adaptable Linux upgrade. It is a brilliant way to view our architecture—open-source, secure, and customisable. I’m keeping that in my toolkit.
    •   , the Royal Oak and the double-think—thank you for the historical anchor and the reminder that the seal of approval is just the start of the audit.
    •   Cinnabar_wing, that lightning bolt in the stream and the Tribal Tattoo analogy turned a clinical assessment into a rite of passage. A big tribal whoop to you.
    Where we’re at:
    We started out wondering if a diagnosis is just a modern shamanic ritual. Whether we use that framework or Steve Silberman’s NeuroTribes logic, we’ve found that we aren't a modern error, but a long-standing tribal lineage of system-builders.
    In that shamanic framework, the diagnosis isn't a cure; it's the ceremony that integrates us back into the tribe where we belong. We’ve been writing our own chapter of that history right here.
    I’m going to close the circle for now while I head back to the grind, but I’m keeping the doors wide open. This thread was inspired by another, and if the spark hits me again, I would love to work with you good people in a similar way. I’ve personally learned so much about myself through the privilege of learning with and from all of you.
    I am 61 now, and having been diagnosed at 59, I’ve realized that this audit of the last six decades isn't about looking back with regret. It’s a process of clearing out the old, ill-fitting code so I can finally start living authentically in the moment. It’s a slow transition, and the gears always need a bit of grease, but I’m feeling a lot more Sacred Space in my own paddock tonight.
    Keep oiling those gearboxes, guarding your boundaries, and above all, trusting your own tracks.
    All the best to the herd.
  • Thanks for the summary  

    It was interesting learning of people’s experiences and of your own. As for my own it mostly reflected the moment I discarded the shame label, yet there is more than that and for now it is hidden in the clay of the figurine that is in my mind. 

    How to come to terms with the damage inflicted by others is not so easy to rid. Perhaps I would have been like this anyway if say I had been adopted at birth. I try not to think of it but it comes to me unbidden. I can achieve something if I’m determined but the negative mental state isn’t for shifting, at times I feel angry and it’s depleting my energy. I have an idea of some things that might help me but alas, it’s only the few who have access to these things.

    I’m not being negative about your post. I think reflecting on the lump of clay has brought out feelings that were suppressed. Better out than in! Slight smile

  • I’m so glad you felt safe enough to mention that hidden part of the clay  . It isn't being negative — it’s the raw truth of how exhausting this audit is. As someone someone who comes to autism realisation late on in life, I really feel the weight of what you’re describing.
    It sounds like the exquisite release of dropping the shame has left a space where the unbidden anger and the damage from others can finally be felt. I’ve been learning through this thread—thanks to the insights you and the others have brought to the paddock—that this anger isn't a state to be fixed. It’s more like our hardware finally reacting to decades of being forced to run the wrong operating system.
    I've had my own experience with those metaphorical wolves this week. Using the collective wisdom we’ve shared here, I was able to close a chapter of personal abuse and stand my ground against a discriminatory organisation. I felt that same visceral threat in my belly you described. It wasn't my win alone; it was the result of leaning on the herd and a simple motto from a loved one: don't give up.
    I know your Neolithic figurine might still feel like a cold, jagged lump. There is absolutely no rush. I’ve been thinking lately about how life is like a river. A wise teacher once suggested that we don't need to push the river to make it flow; we just need to let go of the bank. If you can act on a problem now, do so. If not, tell yourself you will when the time is right, and let the rest of the water carry you for a bit.
    I've also found that opening up to the sadness of unmasking has surprisingly allowed me to open up to happiness, too. I've been learning to reset the physical by just watching a birch tree wave in the wind. The tree doesn't fight the wind; it bends and finds its own rhythm again.
    Because I’m still trying to figure this out, a few of us are gathering over at another thread: "Alexithymia and the Audit: From the bricks of clinical labour to the wind of the birch trees." It’s more of a quiet spot for when the words aren't really there yet.  I’m hoping it helps us eventually get a better sense of those internal signals, but for now, we're just sitting with the silence of it.
    If you ever feel the pull of the birch trees, the fire is going over there too. No pressure, no expectations—just more oil for the gearboxes.
    Best Wishes Slight smile
  • I'm finding more and more people just pee me off and make me wonder what the point of even trying is?

    I am feeling too fragile to attempt a response to that.

    To elaborate on us being social animals, it would seem that we are because we rely on others. That doesn’t mean we like everyone or that others are necessarily friends, although research shows that most autistic people have or would like friends but the energy needed for such friendly activities can be too heavy to manage without careful self-care management. Most people need doctors, lawyers, shop or online employees and others to provide services. 

    It is impossible for most people to live on their own without any contact with the outside world, although some people have managed it for months or a year or so. 

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  • I'm finding more and more people just pee me off and make me wonder what the point of even trying is?

    I am feeling too fragile to attempt a response to that.

    To elaborate on us being social animals, it would seem that we are because we rely on others. That doesn’t mean we like everyone or that others are necessarily friends, although research shows that most autistic people have or would like friends but the energy needed for such friendly activities can be too heavy to manage without careful self-care management. Most people need doctors, lawyers, shop or online employees and others to provide services. 

    It is impossible for most people to live on their own without any contact with the outside world, although some people have managed it for months or a year or so. 

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