“Normalcy is the Enemy of Giftedness” ~ Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes
The question of the day is, how can we see the "unseen".
The unseen thoughts of an animal, the unseen message of a Loon's call or the unseen promise of hope from nature. It does take practice but it's not as hard as you might think.
I have learned that the natural world is a doorway to understanding the unseen. Nature nurtures those instinctive and intuitive parts of ourselves. Parts that have been looted, plundered and shoved down by a culture that values money and power more than authenticity and connection.
Simply to gaze out over an evening landscape is a soul feeding experience that takes us from a thinking state to a feeling one and it is this feeling state that connects us to a deeper knowing.
I have experienced this plunder and pushing down of spirit from time to time in my life, sometimes to the point of feeling like there is no spark of wildness left in me. But I have always returned to knowing that my story is important and the way I tell it is for me to choose.
But it is the stories told to me by the trees, the land and animals that have demonstrated just how different and powerfully wild I am. Wild because I only needed to be silent to feel their presence, to hear their messages.
These kinds of stories are Nature's Medicine
What stories are you telling yourself?
Have you seen your Wild nature lately?
Spring brings the promise of new growth and new perspective, possibly even a new story that feels truer than the one we live now.
My dog, Diego, and I offer this medicine story of our walk into wild spring together. If you are feeling slashed at the knees or plundered by the weight of judgement or loss, walk with us will you?
It’s time for us all to see through new eyes.
Brave Diego
Diego and I walk together on an old logging road near my northern New Hampshire farm. The day is hot, and the wind is gentle. I watch as he sniffs the coyote scat, dense with hare fur, and carefully pooped out in the middle of the trail. A note to anyone passing that this territory is taken. Diego gives it a push with his nose, decides that the coyote’s claim to space isn’t worth challenging, turns, and tears up the road toward some unseen delight.
Diego is one of those dogs who is wary of everything. You know the type, careful when entering a room, jumping at noises he has heard a million times, and always looking to me for courage around people he doesn’t know. I nicknamed him Brave Diego in hopes that the brave part would sink in. He has just turned seven. In man-made spaces, he is still shy but not in the woods. Among the wild things, he comes alive.
Suddenly he slows, ears twitching toward a slight rustle in the leaves beside him. I would have missed it. Lifting his nose to the left, he strides ahead. Not stopping, just noticing… something. I stop and sniff. Mingled with the peaty smell of the damp hot woods, I get a whiff of skunk, just a hint.
Last fall, loggers came into these woods. They viciously slashed the delicate black trunks of the swamp birch that reached out of their dense groves to droop over the road and lay in sunlight blanketing the trail. It made me sick to watch shark-toothed machines, hacking and grinding them off at the knees. Now, a year later, I ask myself, what would Diego see? I know that he wouldn’t remember the slashed young trees. He would only see the new leaves that have sprouted out all along the delicate black bark below their ragged knees. Up is not an option for them anymore, but these trees have a survival instinct that I didn’t understand until now. Up is not the only way.
The breathy wind hits my cheek, and I look for my dog, but he is not in sight. I move ahead. The road winds through the newly harvested woods and then up a small hill. The loggers had their way with this hill leaving branches in jumbled heaps. Tall trees with rotten centers, discovered after they were felled, lie in graves of new raspberry brambles. But then, as I blur my eyes and shift my perception, my vision sharpens.
Instead of a hillside victim of mass destruction, I see a statuesque oak, a deity among the slash. She is mother to the new saplings pushing their delicate bodies from the churned earth.
Instead of the absence of cool shade under mature maples, I see green tangles of dancing brambles, thriving on communal living and reaching for the sun with their necklaces of berries displayed for the bears.
And, instead of an abandoned and rutted skidder road, crashing through the mayhem, I see a well-traveled trail. It’s pockmarked with deep curving hoof prints bigger than my hand. Moose, who have suffered in my woods from pressure on their habitat, are finally back; returned to browse the new growth.
I wonder if Diego will find a moose today. I call his name. He pops out of the brush behind me and trots over to resume the lead. I hope so and follow, because I see much more through his eyes.
SOMETHING NEW!
Shamanic Journeying is a way to connect to unseen Spirits of love and light. This practice has greatly enhanced my ability to not only hear from animals but to trust what I hear. This is why I'm excited to introduce Claudine Records, a shamanic practitioner who is now offering a personalized course in Shamanic Journeying.
This six week, intensive mentored course will be held weekly, starting on Monday, June 13th and will give you a foundation in shamanic journeying. You will be guided step by step in how to journey, and meet your personal spirit guides and teachers.
If the idea of diving deep into shamanic journeying lights you up, find out more about this course HERE
If you have questions for your pet, would like a tarot reading or are in need of personal guidance from Spirit, book a session with me here
ALSO COMING SOON
I will be offering short, guided group workshops to help you to start to learn to deeply trust your intuition and hear from your own animals and Nature. More info will be coming in a few weeks time.
Remember, it is not hard, it just takes practice, trust in your wild intuitive wisdom and the willingness to embrace your giftedness.
I wish you all a springtime of new growth, deeper sight and full hearts.
In Love and Light,
Christine
