When I was ready for my journey I stood and walked with my guide through the undergrowth, making our way through dense vines and through thick bushes.  We walked for a bit, and then I heard a loud rumbling ahead that I could feel through the ground beneath my feet.  As we moved forward I began to feel water spraying my face and noticed that my wolf companion was slowing her steps, and soon I could see a huge waterfall tumbling off the edge of the cliff we stood upon.  She nudged my hand off her head and looked into my eyes, and I felt myself melting into the rushing water beside us.

I found myself swimming in the cold stream and flying off the edge on the cliff inside the crashing cascade and off into space with the wiggling fins and writhing body of a tiny fish, and I hung in watery suspension for a time.  It was a wonderful cooling, freeing sensation and I could see my silvery body flashing in the sunlight as I fell toward the lake at the bottom of the falls.  I was looking forward to entering the water as I reached the bottom, but as I touched the surface I found myself dry and furry on hot, grassy plains instead.  I was a tan cub with huge paws, and I heard myself make a roughing mewling sound as I tried to make sense of the sudden shift in ecosystem.

The brown tall grasses surrounding me were dry and crispy with the heat and I plowed through them trying to see where I had landed.  I soon heard a roar that startled me so badly that I dove to the ground for safety, but I felt something large pick me up by my neck and carry me as I swung in the air.  I didn’t feel afraid any more, but instead curious as we approached a pride of lions lounging in the dust under a scraggly tree.  I was deposited on a pile of furry, wriggly, cubs who welcome me with licks and sharp nibbles, and soon they were settled nursing noisily in the light shade.  I wasn’t sure what to do so I hung back, the the mother lion nudged me with her huge paw to join the feast.  I wriggled my way into the group and joined my two siblings, and soon we were all three fast asleep with the security of the pride around us.

I awoke with a start to a strange noise, and I was terrified when I saw a hyena and her young standing near us in the dusty heat.  I knew that hyenas and lions are competitors, and that hyenas are fierce enough to chase lions away from a kill or eat cubs, so I was afraid for the whole pride.  I pawed my “mother” to make sure she saw the danger, but she reassured me with a lick of a huge rough tongue and a small sound from her throat.  I laid my head down on her paw and pondered why everyone seemed to be such good friends here.  Were the observations wrong?  Did they really all get along when no intrusive cameras were following their interactions?  Could they have a relationship humans weren’t aware of that benefited them both?

Then I realized the lesson I was to take back to my sessions was that whatever a relationship appears to be on the surface it is nonetheless a relationship that exists to teach us whatever we need to know at the time.  Toxic or dangerous relationships  aren’t healthy in that they aren’t ones we want in our lives if we want healing and peace, but they are nonetheless relationships and just as important to our path and healing as the pleasant ones.  If we can survive them we learn and hopefully grow from what they teach us, and because they have dangerous or toxic elements they may still have lessons for us to learn as we move through them.  Hopefully we can see the danger and set our boundaries so we can be safe as we learn, but our competitors or even those who would threaten us aren’t necessarily evil or without merit.  Hyenas are essential to the ecosystem and fierce fighters, but they can be appreciated for their place in nature and part of our lessons.  So not all relationships must be rosy to be worthwhile on some level, and there are many kinds of relationships.  The hard part is knowing when we have learned our lessons in toxic relationships and it is time to move on, but that is up to each of us to decide.  Interesting that I seemed to have forgotten that…

As I thought about it I found myself stretching huge wings and taking steps across the plain to rise into the clear sky above me, and I felt the hot wind lift me upward until I felt spray on my face again.  I glided upward and landed beside the waterfall in the lush forest, and I realized I was back in my soft outfit with my hand on the wolf’s head again.  She looked up at me with clear blue eyes and turned over my hand with her teeth to reveal a a print of a paw that filled my whole palm and more.  I saw too that I had a matching print on my other palm, and I realized that my lion guide had come back with me to help me to help myself and others heal.

We walked along the stream back to where I had met her on this journey, we slid into the water to refresh ourselves again, and she shook herself to cover me with cold spray.  Then we were dry again as the drums faded and I returned from my journey with a new guide and lessons to ponder.

I felt very exposed and vulnerable, not to mention freezing to my soul and it seemed there was no up or down, much less forward or back, to find my way out of this crystal cage.  I began to feel fear, but I wasn’t sure what I was actually afraid of since there was no threat of any kind in sight.  I found myself curling into a fetal position and breathing rapidly and felt my mind freezing into inaction.  I tried to focus on solutions and breathe through my fear, but it seemed I couldn’t grasp even what my situation was, much less how to get out and why I was there in the first place.

I hung there in the clearness for what seemed to be an eternity, and finally forced myself to take a breath and flex a finger to see if I was still alive, but  I felt more like a crystal statue than a living creature.  The confusing part of it all was that there was no visible cage around me and I really couldn’t feel any walls or structures preventing my movement, yet all I could do was hang in this clear nothingness and feel paralyzed at being confined in openness.  It was a totally new and bizarre sensation that made me so afraid that I had to remind myself to keep breathing,  but finally I moved one hand a bit and found that I could breathe and blink if I chose.  I felt no pain or stricture around me and began to flex my arms and legs a bit, and I finally was able to stretch completely out and attempt to breathe normally.  Where was I and what was happening to me?  How could one be confined in open space that had no apparent boundaries and why was it so cold there?

I saw no snow as I had in my usual journeys, and none of my guides were anywhere to be found.  I was swimming in some clear watery substance but could breathe as if I were in air, so I made my way downward into the darker depths led by some instinct I couldn’t name.  I soon found myself in a watery crystal cave where I saw what seemed to be the bottom of this ocean.  There was no blue, green, no creatures or ocean plants as I had expected to find here in the watery depths, but instead a crystalline bottom to the waters I swam through.

I swam slowly closer hoping I would get some clues as to what this place was and why I felt so confused and fearful in a place to obviously transparent and open, but all I could see was the clear bottom ahead.  I swam down to it and peered through the water to the crystal floor of the cave, and as I drew closer I saw there was a moving shape apparently under the floor.  My heart raced as I approached it and I even had a moment of my previous fearful paralysis, but I knew I had to see what was moving in order to understand where I was and how to leave the invisible cage I found myself in.

I swam down and leaned close as my heart pounded so hard I thought I would pass out, but when I looked directly into the clear waters all I saw was my reflection staring back at me.  I saw nothing and no one else anywhere around, and then I realized where I was with a start.  I had the wonderful opportunity to look deep inside myself and see my deepest fears to find clarity, but the knowledge I would find there was only available after I uncurled myself and decided to follow my instincts and become willing to see whatever was down in the quiet depths.  The word that popped into my head was a simple, “ohhh”, and I smiled at how I had found clarity deep inside myself when I put aside my fears.  How interesting it is that with all the time I have spent searching for answers through sometimes murky waters the clearest reflection was inside myself the whole time.

As I peered at myself I realized that sometimes what seems like a cage is really home and safety, and that what feels scary and unfamiliar can really be simply an interpretation of our own truth filtered through our fears.  When we can remove the filters we can see with clarity what we weren’t able to see before, and I really didn’t look like what I usually see in the mirror when the  waters were stilled so the view was clear.  Fear distorts who we are, but when we let the waters become still and see our real reflection we break free and see our truth.  It is definitely worth uncurling ourselves and swimming in the cold for awhile.

Then I noticed as I looked back that nothing appeared to be behind me, but I couldn’t account for my appearance in this deep field of grass or my feeling of a need to run toward wherever I was headed.  I saw no structures or beings anywhere in sight but still felt the urge to move forward as fast as possible, and the urge was strong enough to keep me running despite the whipping my arms and face were taking as I waded through the reeds.  I searched the horizon only to find myself still puzzled as to why I kept moving forward, and I glanced behind me again to no avail.  I was breathing heavily by now, and I tried to slow down to catch my breath.  I felt I needed to figure out where I was, why I was running, and where I was trying to end up before I used all my energy to reach some unknown goal, so I forced myself to stop and look around a bit.

There was only tall grass all the way to the horizon in all directions it seemed, but then I saw something at the edge of the grass in front of me.  It wasn’t a particular shape or color that appealed to me, but I felt a wonderful sense of peace when I looked at it.  It felt “right” and I wanted to be where it was badly, and I realized that I wasn’t running away from anything.  Instead I was now running toward something that felt right and peaceful,  joyous and wonderous to me.  It was an odd feeling to know I wasn’t running from anything from the first time in my life, but instead running toward something I wanted badly.

I considered resting a bit and thinking about my life and choices to see if they fit what I would think was the “norm” before I resumed my journey, but I felt myself sigh with the tiresomeness of that whole idea.  I had worked through so many events and issues, struggled through so many jungles, trekked up so many mountains in my life, and watched so many people struggling alongside me that I realized I was finished struggling with the past and truly tired of it.  This “it” that was the tiny speck on the horizon wasn’t the end of my journey or the answer to every question I had ever asked, but it instead was the beginning of my path forward.

I can’t answer for anyone else, but for right now I know that I am ready to stand back up and run toward that speck, and although I don’t know all the details and won’t until I actually get wherever I am going, I don’t mind the wind whipping the grass against my face along the way.  I will run forward until I find I need to stop and rest a moment and then will get back up and run joyously again, and I estimate it will take me the rest of my life to get there.  I am alive in a way I haven’t been before and ready to spread my arms and run in the sun.  Running toward something is much less exhausting than running away from everything and a lot more fun, so off I go!

I sat in a restaurant this afternoon eating lunch and reading a book on Beginning Shamanism when I read the line, “A shaman is always chosen.”  The breath went from me as if someone had punched me in the gut and I couldn’t breathe as I flashed back to the night before last.   I had been reading casually for information as I know that shamanism isn’t an easy path, but when I read that line I felt as if lightning went through me and I literally couldn’t breathe or focus on anything around me.  I found myself back in my recent journey and unable to process my present surroundings for several minutes.

I had fallen asleep that night feeling as if something were about to happen, and sure enough I soon found myself in the familiar snowy landscape with my Inuit guide and the white wolf  Tlun by my sides.  The dark trees around the clearing where we stood in deep snow and the heavy clouds above us were a perfect backdrop for the biting winds that swirled around us, and I squinted to protect my eyes from drying out.  Tlun and my guide moved closer to me as I turned to the hooded figure next to me for guidance.  Our eyes met and I felt him look into my soul and  I knew he was called Tupi.  I could see dark skin and darker eyes that were timeless, and he put his hand on my shoulder to steady me.  As he touched my right shoulder I felt Tlun nose her head under my left hand, and I looked down to see her looking up at me with a quiet calm that eased the shivers that rippled through me as much from anticipation as cold.

I had stood connected to them for a few moments when I heard wings beating above us, and when I looked up to see who was approaching I noticed both my guides had disappeared.  I started to call to them but my attention was shifted to the birds who had settled on the snow in front of me and were folding their heavy wings neatly to their sides.  I saw two vultures, and since I had never seen them in this snowy landscape I was surprised to see their darkness against the white of the snow beneath them.  I stood in surprise, not really knowing what to do, when I heard air rushing around me again.

I looked up to see a huge eagle that was bigger than any usual bird could hope to be, and his wingspan was so wide that he dwarfed all of us as he landed several feet away from me and stood to face me.  The vultures moved to flank him and two more large eagles moved in to stand between the vultures.  The huge eagle stepped forward and the others followed him, and I stood in shock as he grew before my eyes.  All of the birds were larger than the norm, but this one towered over all of us.

As I stood staring with my mouth hanging open I felt a nudge behind me and jumped as I turned to see blue eyes against the white of the snow and a  familiar white shape.  The beautiful horse motioned for me to mount him, so I grabbed his mane and did my best to sit astride my friend.   I felt a bit less vulnerable upon his strong back, but as I looked up I saw the giant eagle looming over us.  The vultures and the other eagles moved to stand around me with wings outstretched as I sat unsure what to do, and I marveled at the magnificent creatures who stood with feathers ruffling in the wind.

I thought of the times I had journeyed flying with the vultures and felt my own wings rising on the thermals, and a sense of calm came over me.  I knew I was safe among the messengers and friends who had brought me to this place and raised my head to face the creature who had come to rest before us.  To my surprise he spread his huge wings to pull all the other birds to him and then wrapped then around the horse and me.  I felt as if I were inside a warm cocoon surrounded by amazing energies, and I felt warm breath upon the back of my neck as I heard, “chosen” reverberating around me in the darkness.   I had no idea what that referred to and found myself standing in the snow with Tlun and Tupi again for a moment before I was back in bed with heart pounding.

I realized I was still sitting in the restaurant with the waitress asking me if I was all right, and I realized my food was mostly uneaten.  I nodded, got my check, and found my way to my car to sit and try to absorb what had just happened, and I have been working on it since.

I was excited for her and leaned down to greet these new little lives.  The mother wolf came to me and brushed against me hard enough to plop me into the snow, and I was quickly mobbed by six fat furry balls with very sharp baby teeth and wet cold tongues.  I giggled and let them clamor over me for awhile until I lost my breath from laughing, and then I gently removed them from my head and chest and sat back up.  After I had shaken off the little shoe-biter from my boot I leaned to the she-wolf and wrapped my arms around her furry neck to let her know how amazing her new family was.  She wrapped herself around me in the snow, and since her cubs quickly found their way to her teats to nurse I started to move away to give them space to eat.  She took the edge of my jacket in her mouth and gently pulled me back to her, so I laid my head down on her chest and snuggled to listen to her babies noisily drinking their fill.  I found myself smiling again at the thought of how the noises they were making reminded me of nursing my own children, and we laid together with me stroking her thick fur and her nursing her cubs until the last one had drifted off in a satisfied slumber against her mother’s warmth.

I dreamed while I dozed that she was giving me her name, which although she had been given it by my Inuit guide, was one she took to be hers and was giving it to me to know.  Her name was Tlun, which was snow with moonlight shining on it, and I thought it fit her fierce but gentle demeanor perfectly.  I woke with a start to find a little cold tongue licking me, so I rose to my feet to stand with her and the cubs and stare upwards at the crescent moon and brilliant stars that surrounded us on the hill where we stood.

Tlun threw back her head, gave a magnificent howl, and turned to look at me.  Her powerful spirit shone in her face as her cubs tumbled at her feet and she howled again.  I heard answering wolves in the distance this time, and she looked expectantly at me again.  I realized what she meant for me to do, laughed, and threw my head back to give the best howl my human throat could muster.  She seemed amused with my effort, nudged me  to try again, and demonstrated for me.  Her babies were doing their best to join in the conversation with little yips and yowls, so I let loose and howled again myself and was surprised to hear responses in the distance.

I remembered then that I had howled and barked with canines since childhood and gotten responses then as well, so I felt empowered and a bit giddy at the prospect of letting loose and having fun.  We stayed on that frozen hill for quite awhile pouring our hearts out and sharing ourselves with the moon, stars, and any other creatures who wanted to howl along with us, and I swear I saw Tlun laughing with her tongue handing out one side of her mouth at my joy and humorous attempts to talk wolf.  She reminded me that not only do I have a home there with my snowy friends, but that I need to relax, let loose, and just howl sometimes even if I can’t quite get the words to come out.

As I watched her cubs trying to hop around in the snow and howl like their mother I woke up giggling and chilly, and the next night when my little girls and I came out of a store to find a beautiful cold night lit by a bright moon I led my own cubs on a howling fest the whole way through the parking lot while we searched for our car.  I’m sure everyone around us thought we had lost our minds, but you know, sometimes you just gotta let loose and howl!!

I found myself back on the side of a dark road with my father reliving an experience that happened when I was about 4 or 5 from a different perspective than I did originally.  We traveled when I was young in a big blue Rambler station wagon, and that night we had seen strange lights in the sky.  My dad and I got out of the car, stood by the road in the dark, and watched strange brightly colored circles darting above us, only to shoot off into the night sky and disappear.  I looked up at my dad and asked what they were and he said he didn’t know, but that I should ever talk about them.  Since I had always seen little darting lights high in the sky and even dreamed about them since I could remember I asked him about those too.  I asked him why no one else ever talked about them either and why people didn’t seem to notice them, and he got this look on his face as waves of fear came off of him toward me.  He said again that I should never talk to anyone about the feelings I got about things and from people, seeing those, or what we saw that night in the sky, and since he had never spoken about it again I thought his fear was that I was crazy, wrong, bad, or a combination of them all.

From that point onward I had turned to science and facts that were provable, but I didn’t realized how much that experience had affected me.  It took my most of my life to be able to say who I am and trust my feelings and intuition, and I never had realized why I needed to speak about things I could back up with evidence.  If I could find scientific evidence and not go by what I had just “experienced” or “felt”, then no one would think I was crazy or silly.  I would like to have gotten to where I am now years ago, but apparently it wasn’t the right time yet.

This time on my journey I could feel the fear that came from my father wasn’t because he thought I was making it up or crazy, but that he knew what I was seeing was real and knew it wasn’t safe or wise for me to talk about it to anyone.  He had worked with NASA on the Saturn project and knew things that he wouldn’t talk about, and I realized this time as I stood with him in the dark that he was afraid for me, not embarrassed or afraid I was hallucinating.  Back then people really didn’t talk about things like energy work, paranormal events, extraterrestrial beings, or anything out of the norm of the time without being ostracized in one way or another, and in a very healing moment I realized he wasn’t afraid because he didn’t believe me, but because he did.  I felt a weight lift from me, tears of relief flowed down my cheeks, and I realized that I could now be who I was meant to be all along.

I looked up to the stars and felt myself moving along the road and picking up speed, and then I was among the stars!  I saw galaxies spinning, stars forming and exploding, and dark areas where huge masses of matter were suddenly winking out of view as if they had never existed.  Then I noticed a beautiful light bouncing from star to star, galaxy to galaxy, and bursting into sprays of fireworks as it ricocheted  enthusiastically from one body to another.   Pure joy radiated from the ball of light as it grew closer to me and began to spin in swirls of indigo, silver, and white, and suddenly I felt it enter me and knock me backward to spin with it!

I felt the light tumbling me over and over until I found myself in a place I had journeyed to before, but this time the light was still with me.  I looked down at my hands, still folded in the prayer position for the attunement, and I saw the light in a ball between my palms.  I cupped it and it swirled gently with an indigo edge that faded to silver and white in the center.  I leaned closer until my face was a few inches awayand felt totally peaceful and content until I felt a presence next to me.  I looked up to find my Reiki guide, an Inuit who was all white furs except for his dark face standing near me.  When I looked past him I saw the white wolf and polar bear I had visited here before, and again they welcomed me silently.  My guide motioned as if he were drinking from cupped hands, and when I felt confused he motioned that I should drink from the light cupped in my hands.  I wasn’t sure why I was to do that, but since I willingly accepted the light I was happy to drink from whatever it had to offer me.  I leaned toward my hands and scooped the beautiful ball to my mouth and drank deeply of the warm glow, and as I did I felt that connection to all else that I had felt before. This time I drank deeply and laughed as the warmth enveloped me and felt as if I wanted to stay in that moment forever.

When I looked up in amazement at the joy and peace I felt inside I found my guide and his companions gone, but in their place was the familiar white horse with blue eyes that had shared wisdom with me before.  I smiled and reached to wrap my arms around him, and as I laid my face against his cool cheek I noticed the snow and darkness were fading.  He motioned me to mount him, and this time I knew that something was different about the journey we were about to embark on together.  I had come so close to this point before but never made the leap of faith and confidence in myself that I had this time, and as I leaped onto his back and leaned into his mane I whispered to him to take me wherever I was meant to go.  The snow faded and I was back in the room with my hands still folded, and I still feel the glow of the energy.  I have so much to learn, and I am so very ready to begin.

Last night I journeyed and found myself in a frozen landscape running with a pack of white wolves.  I soon realized I was a wolf surrounded by other wolves running in semi-darkness in fogs of cold breaths, and although on one level I was cold on another I was warm and invigorated.  We ran full-out as if our lives depended on the chase, and indeed they did since we were following a herd of some kind of deer and running on empty stomachs.  I could feel my family’s warm bodies brushing against mine as we rushed along, and although the thought of actually felling and killing an animal to eat turned my stomach briefly, I knew that this was not my safe and warm life in which my easy reach in the refrigerator could produce a bloodless salad.  We ran for our lives and this was the only option, and as we caught up to the stragglers we instinctively formed the most efficient hunting formation.  Unfortunately we spooked the herd and they took off into the trees in a huge wall of solidarity, so we slowed to a lope and caught our breaths.  We turned back to our den that was a warm hole under the roots of a massive tree and spent some time sniffing and rebonding, and we curled up together with our tails over our noses for warmth.  I slipped into twitching dreams of zigzagging after snowy arctic hares, and soon woke to find myself swimming in frigid water.

I paddled furiously with my massive white paws in the bubbling near-frozen water and realized I was under a slab of ice.  I swam toward the light and clawed my way onto the ice shelf to shake off furiously.  I was a huge male polar bear waiting for the shadow of a seal under the ice or water, and I felt the watery sunshine warming my thick fur.  I closed my eyes to enjoy a quiet moment before the hunt resumed and felt a moment of dizziness as my position shifted, then realized I was myself again and standing back on solid frozen ground.  I felt someone nearby and turned to find the man in white furs who had let me know he will be my spirit guide on the next phase of my journey.  He was dark-skinned and tanned on top of it from a lifetime of exposure to the reflected sun, and his face and hair were the only objects that stood out against the white all around us.  He reached a hand toward me and opened it to show something to me that I couldn’t quite see in the dim light, and as I touched his hand I was back in my bedroom in darkness.

I noticed a fragrance then that put a damper on my cheer with some unpleasant memories, so I slowed down to a stroll and sighed.  The sky didn’t seem quite so blue, and I really didn’t care whether the rest of the flowers smelled good any more, so I put my head down and become lost in thought.  I didn’t really notice that I had company until I heard a soft snuffle, felt a warm grassy breeze on my face, and  looked up into familiar blue eyes.

My beautiful white horse friend began to nuzzle my arm, and I giggled as he tickled my side with his soft muzzle.  He blinked those amazing eyes at me with the silliest expression a horse can manage and motioned for me to look at his back.  I saw a red ribbon tied to the end of his mane and a whole bouquet of bright-colored ballons waving about in the breeze above him.  The balloons were as bright as the flowers around us, and he reached back and grabbed the ribbon in his mouth.  He knelt on his front foreleg and lowered them to eye level, and as I admired all the pretty colors I saw movement inside them!  I leaned in a bit closer and saw scenes from my childhood that were hard for me to look at even after all the time that had passed, and I backed off and stood up with a sharp sigh of annoyance.

I looked back at my friend and let my feelings be known, and just as I started to walk away I felt a sharp pain in my foot.  I jumped, said a colorful word, and bent down to remove a sharp splinter of thorn from my arch.  When I stood I found myself face to face with the balloons and grisly images again, and without a thought jabbed the thorn into each balloon in turn.  Each burst with a resounding “POP!!”,  and I realized I felt powerful and light again as I looked at each nasty event and promptly popped it into oblivion!  I was actually enjoying myself and felt a bit disappointed when I was down to one green balloon, so I peered more closely to savor the experience.  I laughed when I realized the last remaining balloon was filled with me plodding along after I smelled the gardenia flower that had sent me to my past, aimed my thorn and popped it out of existence.

The blue eyes met mine again, and he seemed to be laughing with me for a moment.  Then he became serious and started pawing the ground the way you see horses do to count in the old comedies.  I rolled my eyes at his silliness  and looked down to see what he was writing with his hoof  in the loose dirt.   It simply said,  “The pop wasn’t as loud as you expected, was it?”

I had to laugh since he somehow knew I hate the sound of balloons popping.  I would keep one to lose air and eventually collapse, all the while sitting in a corner annoying me, instead of popping it.  He was really right though, since I didn’t mind the pop at all when I was focused on getting rid of the images once and for all.  I was enjoying the sight of them dissipating and my feeling of power too much to mind the pop, and I actually enjoyed it.  I smiled at him, rubbed his soft gray muzzle, and we took off down the path together to enjoy the beautiful day.

What he was trying to tell me was simple to say but harder to do.  The past isn’t put to rest until our need to live in the  present and make our own future is  stronger than our need to live  in that past.  When the time is right we can send those old memories where they belong…up in a puff of air.  Next time I smell a gardenia perhaps I will just smell a gardenia:)

I stood and breathed in fresh air and sunshine, and I closed my eyes to better hear any birds or other inhabitants of this lovely place.  I stood and listened and reached out for anyone or anything who might happen to be nearby.  Before long I did feel many presences around me, so I opened my eyes and was suprised to see the first humans I had ever encountered in my meditations.

I found myself surrounded by men and women who were of various appearances and ages.  They all felt familiar to me even though I didn’t remember seeing them before, and the very air around me hummed with widsom and gentleness.  I stood unable to gather my wits enough to think of anything to say to express my admiration and gratitude to these peaceful souls for even letting me exist in their presence, but since I realized nothing I could say would be helpful in the moment, I simply stood silently in awe.  All my meditations andjourneys had been with the other creatures who share the planet with me, and I had learned much from them, but now it was time to learn from those who had lived as humans and were willing to share their wisdom.

A tall muscled Native American man who exuded  confidence and strength stepped forward and laid a firm warm hand on my shoulder, and soon several others came to stand around me with hands laid gently on my back, shoulders, and arms.  I had never felt so much positive energy course through me, and I sighed and closed my eyes with pleasure as warmth and peace flowed from where they touched down my legs and into the earth beneath my feet.  When I had totally relaxed almost to the point of sliding limply to the ground they stepped back and seemed to be listening to something I couldn’t hear.  It was as if they were communicating with each other silently, but I could feel a hum in the air that reminded me of meditation chants when the sum of all voices is greater than each separately and truly beautiful.

Then I heard a voice gently commanding me to be still and listen, so I opened myself to everything around me with my eyes closed again.   Instantly I was connected to all the gentle souls in the group as well as every other creature in the meadow, and this time another presence as well.  I listened and let the energy flow through me, and I felt so much knowledge and wisdom rush through all my cells that I wanted to beg them to slow down so I could absorb it all.  I still couldn’t place what the new presence was although it seemed familiar to me in some ways, so I gathered the courage to ask and opened myself to the new sensation.

I received an answer that came from everywhere at once, and as I shook my head to clear it enough to understand what I was hearing I felt them step back a step and grow silent.  My eyes flew open with the fear that they might withdraw in frustration from my lack of comprehension, but I smiled as I saw them standing patiently in a group around me.  The Native American who appeared to be the leader spoke in a clear voice that echoed as if it bounced from cliffs that didn’t surround us, and he spoke simply and gestured to the earth I stood on.

He said that the presence I felt was the earth below my feet, and that most humans don’t listen to the messages she gives them and aren’t truly connected to her until death.  He said that we begin our lives connected to our origins and our mother who nurtures us, but along the way we learn to mistreat and disrespect her and then are even taught that she is not living, but instead a vessel for us to use as we please.  We begin to believe over time that we own her and have the right to destroy her in the names of progress and wealth, and we become arrogant and selfish instead of loving her and treating her with the kindness she shows us.  When we die we join with her again, but by then it is too late to change our path and undo the damage we have done, and then when we start a new cycle with another birth we are taught to forget again.  Meanwhile our loving mother cries with pain from the damage we’ve done, but she continues to nourish us as mothers do because we are her children.

I noticed a movement from the group behind him and felt overwhelming sadness, and as I scanned the group I saw tears of misery and grief coursing down their cheeks.  I wanted to run to them and comfort away their pain, but I felt totally inadequate and ashamed for my own part in this cruel cycle of devastation and destruction as I got flashes of mined naked hillsides whose very flesh had been ripped away, barren deserts where lush vegetation had been gifted to us from our mother and burned with no regard for its role in keeping her alive and healthy, and stinking piles of waste that cover her beautiful face.

I sobbed with my own grief as I realized I couldn’t comfort them or change the past, and then I felt that warm strength of the leader’s touch on my shoulder again.  He told me that tears weren’t the answer and becoming lost in guilt for all man’s transgressions was useless, and he opened his arms and spread them in a gesture toward the earth that felt so fresh and cool between my toes.  He let me know that I should lie on the earth and spread my arms upon it, and that I should let myself feel the vibrations of life that emanate from our mother if we take the time and opportunity to listen and feel her loving energy.  He told me that I had the same choices all humans do, and that I could lie against her and feel her breath and love her in return, or I could do as most do and only feel her welcoming arms in death.

If I chose the latter I would miss so much and lose the opportunity to share her wonder with my children, and  I felt deep sadness at the thought of continuing this cycle of abuse.  I laid down in the grass and felt my cheek against the fresh dirt, and I spread my arms to hug this amazing creation beneath me.  I gently held fistfuls of dirt and brought them to my face to breathe in the scent of life, and after I had laid in silence for awhile listening to a voice I had never taken the time to really hear before and feeling awe at the love she shows us, I rolled onto my back and realized I was alone in the meadow.

I laid against the damp cool earth with grass tickling my sides and feet for a long time, and I watched clouds racing across the blue sky above me as I considered how this day would change my life.  I know that I won’t be a perfect daughter to the earth who brought me life, but I also know that I will never forget her voice and will recognize it in the breeze, and that I will feel her warm caress as I touch the dirt in my garden. 

I know one more thing that brings me peace as well, and that is the knowledge that I will share with my children  this deep feeling of respect and caring for our planet that I have taken away from this experience.  Perhaps they will be the ones to show her the love she has shown so many generations of humans, and hopefully they will teach their children to love her as well.  Perhaps this is the one gift we can all give back to her, and maybe even save ourselves in the process as gifts that come from our hearts often do.

I soon found my way to a larger cavern and realized I was in the same area where I had held the mother bat and her baby awhile back, but this time I saw no creatures hanging around me in the semi-darkness.  I was surprised when I felt a bit disappointed, since I had been concerned the first time that I would disturb them and find myself in a flurry of furry-winged creatures I couldn’t see well.  I had to smile at how much my  perceptions had changed over the course of a few weeks, and I decided it was time to find my way out through the small hole in the roof above me. 

I squinted against the glare of light that burst through the opening in a single shaft of sunlight and nearly blinded me after walking in the near-darkness of the smaller room, and I considered that I had no way to climb out since the opening was over the center of the cave away from any walls I might be able to get toeholds in to get purchase on the way up.  I looked around and thought hard, and I still could think of no way to get out.  I knew the day was warm and clear above me and I was determined to feel the sunshine on my face, so I sat back on a rock and tried to ignore the dampness that soaked my pants immediately.  I imagined the warm breeze and the feel of soft grass between my toes, and I weighed my limited options.  Jumping would be of no use since the hole was at least 20 feet up, I had no ladder or way to climb the walls, and I somehow knew no one would hear my calls for help.  I couldn’t fly obviously, so…hmm….and I found myself laughing out loud at the option I had almost overlooked.

I remembered my flight with my vulture friend a few days ago, and I realized I had been thinking inside the box again.  I had been thinking of myself as having limited physical abilities and few options, but the reality was since everything is connected and we can all be everywhere if we choose, I had another option I hadn’t considered.

I simply relaxed and felt myself standing in brilliant sunshine in my sneakers and dry clothes, and I looked around to find a small hole in the thick grass that could be a cave opening.  After I searched a bit I found a small opening that I would have missed if I hadn’t been looking for it, and I leaned down to peer inside.  I saw myself sitting on the slimy rock with eyes shut thinking, and I realized with a snort that this was the way life is every day of our physical lives.  I reached in, snapped my fingers at my sitting self, promptly jumped as I saw my above-ground self reach in to grab my arm and pull me out, argued that I would never fit through that hole and couldn’t reach me anyway, told myself that it would all work out and to grab on, and found myself sucked up into the sunlight my my own strong grip on my arm.

Well, perhaps I should have reacted with a bit more composure, but I sank to the grass laughing at myself…myselves… and the irony of the situation.  I laughed until I had to stop to catch my breath and shook my head considering that I had just done what we all have to do every day.  We are ultimately the ones who have to find our little caves where we are stuck in the dark and reach in, tell ourselves it is time to grab on, and pull ourselves out into the sunshine.  No matter how wonderful our therapists, families, or friends are, it is ultimately up to us to think outside the box of “can’t” or “impossible” and hoist our own selves up, and if no one extends the arm we have to extend our own and reach for ourselves. Who knew it worked literally as well as figuratively? :)