Wolf Wisdom Transformational News -- An Owlish Experience!

June 27, 2006

Hello, my lovely shamanic people!

I have recently been pondering a shamanic weekly newsletter in which I share some sort of transformational experience with you, and invite you to share yours with me!

I believe that we all have magical experiences each and every day, and my Wolf totem is urging me to clear a path to a place where we all can share these experiences with the wonder and joy that they warrant.

One goal of mine would be to put together a compilation of our experiences and distribute this amongst ourselves--and even amongst others!--thereby growing our shamanic community.

This week I will be sharing AN OWLISH EXPERIENCE with you all.

...

Last night I did not sleep very well, and at one point when I finally drifted off, I dreamed a friend of mine (who has Cherokee blood) and I were walking down the street where I live in southeast Evanston. There are many dogs who live on my block, but we don't often get much out of the ordinary as far as wildlife is concerned.

Suddenly in my dream I saw a couple of people next to a parked car trying to pick up an animal that was between the wheel of the car and the curb. I nudged my friend, pointed and said: "Look, an owl!!"

We stood watching as these people tried to bring the bird up out of the gutter and on to the grass where it would be safer. I remember thinking how amazing the bird was--and in hindsight, it seemed so real and so tangible!

I did not remember my dream until this afternoon, while sitting at my relaxing day job at a university library, perusing the book Animal Speak by Ted Andrews. I opened by "chance" to the chapter on owls, and, ding-ding-ding! A bell went off in my head. I read again what I already knew about owls:

One who works with owl medicine will be able to see and hear what others try to hide.You will hear what is not being said, and you will see what is hidden or in the shadows. You can detect and pinpoint the subtleties....Owl people have a unique ability to see in to the darkness of others' souls and life....These vision and hearing capabilities have metaphysical links to the gifts of clairvoyance and clairaudience as well.

I thought to myself, let's see; in my dream, the owl was standing in between a curb and the wheel of a car--surely not the best place for it--and why were the people trying to lift it up? The owl was not injured, and owls are strong birds. Surely it should be able to fly away.

Then I thought: What is this dream telling me? OK, time to exercise my skills a bit here, and reconnect with and hone my ability to perceive the deeply hidden parts within others. After all, why else am I here? (Here on this plane of existence, not here in the library. :)

That trail of thought continued for a while, and then sort of faded. I found myself people-watching as patrons passed by. Then I saw a woman who passes by my desk just about every day. She always catches my interest due to the strong duality of her loveliness as contrasted with her very stolid composure.

As I sat in a sort of dream state, the first line of a poem formed, then another, then another....until I had formed my interpretation of a shamanic portrait of the woman's inner spirit. (She will remain anonymous, especially considering even I do not know who she is!)

I include the poem here:


Deer-Woman

by Jennifer Esther Glickstein



There is a woman
who seems to be very beautiful
who I see every day,
and who I will never know.
Her bones tell me so.

The line of her jaw whispers
of a Roman soldier I once knew;
leather-strapped sandals on sturdy feet
bind protection to him like a shield.

A gentleness around her eyes, though,
belies a sensitivity she is powerless to control;
her totem Doe softly singing mysteries
of the unruly forest which must secretly grow
within her tidy kitchen: Pots and pans
shone spic and span line the walls
like knights hung out to dry.

Her nostrils want
to tell of the subtleties of the cinnamon
she's sprinkled in her chocolate;
to speak of the stir of lavender
she's kicked up outside her garden door;
to share the immediacy of the night-blooming jasmine
which rides in on waves of darkness
through her screen.

But her bones say No.
Head held high, feet lined up
toe to toe, she walks straight past
as she does each day--
Yet, in her wake,
blows music--faint.

...

The crafting of this poem not only brought, for me, a very bad case of writer's block to a halt (at least for now), but hopefully it filtered in some sort of healing energy and light to the woman's spirit, to do with what she will. WHOOOO knows? I hope it has done some good. I know it has for me!

Thank you, Owl!

And now, tell me your stories. I look forward to your feedback and experiences!