"artwork by Jane Luce"
"There was in me a secret retreat. Words and cadences haunted it like song-birds in a magic wood." ... Edith Warton, First woman Pulitzer Prize winner in fiction
Back in the days when I was more adventurous, I attended to internal stimuli in a spirit of discovery. In other words, I meditated and I did it with a sense of adventure, anticipation, and the expectation that something wonderful would present itself.
I remember that I once meditated with the intent of discovering my "animal shaman." Native Americans did this, I was told, so I, too, would be open to an introduction to an animal that would guide my meditation and open doorways to a new and wonderful enlightenment.
I began my meditation in my usual way, visualizing myself walking down a primitive staircase that twisted and turned, descending into a dark cavern. Just before I was on the floor of the cavern, I imagined myself lying on a smooth, black stone from which I could slide the rest of the way into the cavern.
When I arrived at the cavern's floor, I looked around for my animal shaman, and then saw a large dark creature sitting upright with her back to me. I was startled at first, but the animal continued to sit quietly, apparently not concerned about my playground-slide-entrance. As I took a deep breath contemplating my next move, the animal slowly turned in the barbershop-swivel-chair toward me. Our eyes met, and hers were large and gentle.
While I began to realize that I was in the presence of a spiritual being, I was at the same time having some real doubts about whether this was really my animal shaman. After all, I was pursuing a Native American meditation. This animal was large and kind and seemingly wise, but how could she be mine? She seemed to be on the wrong continent though I suspected the spiritual world didn't have the same geographical divisions as Planet Earth.
Yet, there she was. I was in pursuit of an animal shaman that a Native American might cherish, or at least recognize. I was thinking of maybe a doe or a rabbit or a song-bird. There she was ... my animal shaman was a baboon!
The baboon and I engaged in some meaningful conversation, most of which I really don't remember. But when I think of my "secret retreat," the caretaker is a large, dark baboon whose memory brings me a moment of peace and amusement. What more could I have asked for?
Back in the days when I was more adventurous, I attended to internal stimuli in a spirit of discovery. In other words, I meditated and I did it with a sense of adventure, anticipation, and the expectation that something wonderful would present itself.
I remember that I once meditated with the intent of discovering my "animal shaman." Native Americans did this, I was told, so I, too, would be open to an introduction to an animal that would guide my meditation and open doorways to a new and wonderful enlightenment.
I began my meditation in my usual way, visualizing myself walking down a primitive staircase that twisted and turned, descending into a dark cavern. Just before I was on the floor of the cavern, I imagined myself lying on a smooth, black stone from which I could slide the rest of the way into the cavern.
When I arrived at the cavern's floor, I looked around for my animal shaman, and then saw a large dark creature sitting upright with her back to me. I was startled at first, but the animal continued to sit quietly, apparently not concerned about my playground-slide-entrance. As I took a deep breath contemplating my next move, the animal slowly turned in the barbershop-swivel-chair toward me. Our eyes met, and hers were large and gentle.
While I began to realize that I was in the presence of a spiritual being, I was at the same time having some real doubts about whether this was really my animal shaman. After all, I was pursuing a Native American meditation. This animal was large and kind and seemingly wise, but how could she be mine? She seemed to be on the wrong continent though I suspected the spiritual world didn't have the same geographical divisions as Planet Earth.
Yet, there she was. I was in pursuit of an animal shaman that a Native American might cherish, or at least recognize. I was thinking of maybe a doe or a rabbit or a song-bird. There she was ... my animal shaman was a baboon!
The baboon and I engaged in some meaningful conversation, most of which I really don't remember. But when I think of my "secret retreat," the caretaker is a large, dark baboon whose memory brings me a moment of peace and amusement. What more could I have asked for?
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