Wolf Wisdom Transformational News #2 -- Headless Rabbit

July 5, 2006

Last night was the 4th of July, fireworks and all. My boyfriend Rich and I decided to try and meet several friends there--some of whom were already supposed to be ensconced in a certain picnic area, some of whom were supposed to arrive after us and find us there.

We arrived at the lakefront destination. My head hurt a bit, I was limping because I had recently twisted my ankle, and we were both tired and sort of "over it" already--but we had told our friends we would be there, so we faithfully arrived.

Once there, it was already a bit past 9pm, and really too dark to make out anything in great detail--we walked and circled the area in vain, but could not see our friends.

We came across an empty picnic table and sat down, thinking that at least we could see some of the fireworks, and that maybe our other friends would find us if we kept to one place.

The fireworks began and we could just make them out through a clearing in the trees. Suddenly we heard a strange repetitive flapping sound.

Coming down a path we saw a street performer wearing a mask which resembled the character Pantalone, from the Commedia Dell'Arte: Dark leather, covering half the face, and with a long, protruding nose. He was walking along while balancing on a giant ball, and in each hand held a giant black hand-held fan--these were the source of the flapping sounds! I realized he was selling neon glow-sticks, and would also stop and perform magic tricks for the children. The whole time he did not speak, and used his body to express and communicate.

Because of his mask, I immediately thought: "I wonder what message Raccoon has for me?"

In between performing for the children, he would pull his mask up and talk with what seemed to be his girlfriend, as they decided which way they would walk next. In those moments, of course, he seemed less magical and more "human".

I remained very focused on him. Seeing performers expressing with body language always fills me with a longing for the 7 years that I was a practicing pantomime, silently conveying everything to the audience with my body--emotions, actions, humor.

Eventually the performer and his friend moved on, and our other friends hadn't shown up, so, tired, we left the scene of the fireworks early.

We walked home slowly. We found ourselves on Chicago Avenue, one of the busiest streets in Evanston, and traffic was zooming past. As Rich walked and I limped along, I stopped suddenly, looking down at a patch of grass next to a store front. "Oh no! Look, Rich, a dead rabbit!" The body was long, shaped more like a hare, and laying motionless on its side. Rich then mentioned something that I had noticed on some level but had a hard time grasping: "I think it is missing its head."

Seeing something like this is usually so hard on me, because I physically feel the pain of what the creature has gone through--so I say a quick prayer for its soul and move quickly on, which I started to do in this case. But something drew me back.

I turned to Rich and asked him to hold my keys. My arms began to move over the creature. I could feel that its soul had not left the body yet. It seemed in shock from having its host die so suddenly. As if on auto-pilot I began journeying to help the soul move on to the next level. I won't go in to details here; suffice it to say the helpful spirit guides came to assist, and the soul was safely able to move on.

As the journey/healing came to a close, I took a deep breath, opened my eyes, and we continued our walk home. Suddenly I realized I was crying. I turned to Rich and told him: "I'm not crying because I am sad. I'm crying because I feel good."

...

This morning, I started to think about last night. I allowed myself to feel gypped and frustrated at the fact that somehow our friends did not connect with us. Then I reminded myself that if we weren't where we were when we were, I would have missed the masked performer and also my shamanic appointment with Headless Rabbit.

Suddenly I recalled my thought about Raccoon. I thought: I must look up Raccoon in my books about totem animals and find the message that is there for me. But a voice said: "NO. Look at the whole experience."

I went through every detail again, remembering how I felt at each interval of the evening. When I came again to the fact that the rabbit's head was missing, I thought: What do you have when you are missing a head? You have a body.

And then I knew.

The masked street performer was NOT Raccoon coming to me with a message. He was also Headless Rabbit! Putting the dark mask on made his face "disappear," and he was left only with his body with which to communicate! What could be more grounding?

I also realized that when I was drawn back to do the healing for the rabbit, it was my body guiding me, not me guiding my body. This is why it felt so good that it brought tears to my eyes--the body knows what is needed, and trusting that feels good! Sometimes our heads can get in the way of body-knowledge.

And then I remembered: After doing the healing for the rabbit, my headache was gone!

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!