Wilding

I think there are two kinds of fear.  We have irrational fears that pop out of nowhere, and speaking for myself, paralyze me.  That is when I retreat into serenity, but make no mistake - it is a retreat.  I am unreachable.  Then there are those fears that are logical and wise - the ones that keep us alive.  The irrational fears are the ones I am trying to recognize, face and dismiss - do that Buddhist thing of bless then release.  But they are so real, that sometimes I can't make space.  I can't get enough distance to be calm and logical and rational.  I am just panicking, silently trapped inside myself.  I think the seeds of these parts of self are what we are trying to find in the swamp.  I think, maybe, that when we recognize one of the irrational fears, we should give ourselves a little hug, then block it from view.  It is appropriate.

If we are going to look at fear, then why do I fear compliments and love and admiration and strokes?  Why do I fear attachment?  Success draws me, yet petrifies me.  I want to be recognized for doing something unique or doing something well...but only if no one really sees me.  What has been twisted in my brain, and how do I unbraid this?  Probably by doing something shiny and see what happens next - both internally and externally.

To reach out is to get messy...I think this is what I meant when I said I wanted to get dirty.

I finished Women Who Run With the Wolves last night.  I was so excited, so emotional about The Wolf's Eyelash.  In the story/poem, wolves are not the killers of fairy tale reputation.  If you help, they are grateful and offer a gift.  And the eyelash allowed the woman who freed the wolf from a trap and treated its foot to see beyond facade - to see kindness and goodness, to recognize suffering...to see truth. 

I think that since humans evolved with the forest, we are tied to the trees in ways we can't even fathom.  The trees hold the ancient knowledge and are willing to share.  One of the ways of taming us was to create fear of the forest.  And to create fear of the creatures who live in the forest.  I dream of the Hicks painting, of creatures relaxing together, without fear, coming to life with a human in it. 

I think one of the wildest things I ever did was sleep "under the stars" in the national forest.  I slept in a sleeping bag under a shagbark hickory with my head surrounded by blossoming Mayapples.  I was not in a tent, though.  I did not have that man-made shelter to visually block the wild.

I also think that the tree of life we memorize in basic biology, the evolution of one celled to many celled to sea creature to land creature, the separation of plant world and animals world  - it's only one way to see our relationships.  And it's a segregative way of seeing.  I see plants, who emerged from the sea and learned how to survive on land as our direct ancestors.  These first plants that figured out how to hold the sea within are our kidney medicines.  They still generously teach our organism to maintain this balance.  The trees can teach us so much, as can the ancient ones - the horsetail, the dragonflies, the turtles...

We have been separated from this ancient knowing by fear.  We are afraid of the forest, afraid of the bears, terrified by the wolves.  I wonder if I would be afraid of a wolf if I met one in the wild...Could I trust the ancient connection within? 

I wonder about howling.  I think of howling with pain, but also howling with laughter.  I love to lay in the dark on summer nights and listen to the coyotes howl.  They touch something deep in my soul.  For several summers we slept outside for the whole summer.  I learned the coyotes pattern of coming nearer each night, then moving further away.  I was not afraid.  Howling feels lonely, even when there is a group...is that just in my soul?

And now, I am going to step into weird...after I finished reading and turned off the light, went through my nightly ritual of holding each child in the Light...my beloved border collie, who passed about five years ago was with me.  She was with the other border collie who was part of my family.  They stayed with me for a long time.  I realized she was not my spirit dog or companion.  She is my soul sister.  Her loving essence is experiencing dog maybe to help me/us/women get back to wolf, to rediscover our inner wilding...

Thank you so much for the gift of the book.  I truly appreciate you!!

I know this is your busy day, and I hope I haven't overwhelmed you by going off at such length...and I know there is a family birthday today...so when you are back...Love to you and yours.

Clare