Beautiful journey, Robin. Facing the shadow gave you the story ending that had been eluding you.
During the pandemic, my animal was Hawk. He would come and sit in the river birch right outside my kitchen window, and stayed close. I saw him as friend, checking in on me. Hasn't been back in awhile--I kind of miss him.
Robin, I love that Hawk stayed by you in that unsettling time. I remember how wondrous it felt when there were fewer cars on the road during the pandemic, and the ravine animals were more visibly present in our neighbourhood. I hope Hawk returns to you. Thank you for your perceptive reading of this piece, and for your generosity in sharing.
Yes, the pandemic was a time of unsettlement. In different ways, we feel it today. I would love to see Hawk again.
Thank you for sharing your Alsatian story--I never knew that name for German Shepherd but just learned it was coined during World War I to counter anti-German sentiment in the UK. Interesting who language can be shaped by the times, no?
What a beautifully told and deeply magical story, Robin. I can see why this experience has stayed with you. Although I don’t live in a particularly wild place (a small historic town on the coast north of Boston), I have fairly frequent encounters with the more that human. This is partly due to the fact that I am outside pretty much every day, so I am where the creatures are. 😉 You already know about my recent fix encounter, and my near-daily interactions with the local crows. I also often have close meetings with various hawks, and also pay attention when I am visited by butterflies, moths, ladybugs, spiders, praying mantises, and others of the six-legged persuasion. My beau, who spends most mornings walking in the nearby state park, has almost daily encounters with deer, and less frequent ones with owls and coyotes. The animals really are all around us, we just have to slow down and pay attention enough to notice them. 💜
Jamie, I'm so glad you enjoyed this. Thank you. The place where you live sounds pretty wonderful to me. Years ago, I visited Boston and other parts of New England, and really enjoyed the area. Like you, I love crows! Living close to Quebec woods and a couple of large rivers, we also get to experience the larger birds. How beautiful that you and your beau can be outdoors daily, seeing so many animals. I agree that the natural world is everywhere. Living much of my life in Toronto taught me that. Your recent fox encounter was breathtaking! 💜✨
This is so beautiful, Robin! I feel and have always felt a very strong connection with animals. Each encounter feels spiritual in our sharing of unconditional love. Growing up in Arizona, I know the concept of spirit animals, but don't feel that I have met one. At least, not yet. 😉
Cathy, thank you! What a lovely message. It's beautiful that you feel a strong connection with animals, and that your encounters feel spiritual and loving. And how cool that you grew up in Arizona! I have visited some of your childhood state's vast landscapes. What a sense of spaciousness you must have experienced, and I wonder if that early environment contributed to your cultivation of intuition. If you're interested in reading about spirit animals (or "power animals," as they're sometimes called) I recommend checking out the work of Tom Cowan. His book Shamanism as a Spiritual Practice for Daily Life has a whole chapter devoted to the subject. But of course there are many other great resources. And life has a way of guiding us.
Thank you for your kind comment and book recommendation, Robin. I know what you mean about the spaciousness. I drove to meet friends in Sedona after I had been living in Connecticut for many years. It felt otherworldly to me. It seemed as through I could see forever.
Robin I'm fascinated by your connection with the Black Wolf in your drumming circles! In my thirties and forties I had the honor of participating in several drumming circles and participants would talk about their animal spirit guides. I remember the Black Wolf held great wisdom--he carried with him "the secrets of the night and could see things we as mortals could not"--he was always viewed as a protector but also was bringing gentle wisdom to making peace with "our dark sides or shadow selves"--to not discard them or ignore them but to grow alliances with them--and through integration one becomes more whole, more compassionate to their wounds or shadows. A great essay here!
Gerard, I'm most grateful to you for sharing your experiences in drumming circles, including encounters with Black Wolf. I love what you've written about the secrets of the night and making peace with our shadow. Thank you for offering wisdom. I'm glad you found resonance in this piece. 🙏
Robin, I love your encounter. In dreams, Rei, my American Akita companion, often stands in for the wild part of myself that I am afraid will be TOO wild for others' liking! She is helping me work through shame at being too intense and feral, not naturally "feminine enough".
I am excited for the writing circles, and will share with some friends!!
Oh, yes! As an Akita, your Rei is a very close relative of the wolf. What perfect companions you are. Maria, I'm thrilled that you'll be taking part in our writing circles, bringing your wild magic to the page. And to us!
Wow Robin! What a powerful crossing you made there ... walking with fear until it revealed itself as a kind of guardian. The way the 'beast' stayed just long enough for you to turn and meet him feels like the moment a story decides you’re finally ready to see its face. I’m left wondering what part of you he may have been escorting? Hmm, maybe something you were only just beginning to claim back then.
As for my own 'beast' encounter ... a few years ago, while wandering through my local park, I crossed paths with two dogs known for their fierceness. Instead of shrinking away as I usually did, I tried something different: I held my own fierceness in mind, honouring the wild energy I tend to exile into shadow. As I passed them, calm and present, the dogs seemed to soften ... I swear they even smiled! 🙏💖🐾
"The way the 'beast' stayed just long enough for you to turn and meet him feels like the moment a story decides you’re finally ready to see its face." Your comment gives me chills, Deborah, since it applies not just to the story in relation to me, but to my main character Joseph's story in relation to him. That whole first novel is about walking with a shadow. One that crosses an ocean into a New (Old) World.
Thank you for sharing a beast encounter, too! I love your account of holding your own fierceness in mind in the presence of the fierce dogs. What a wonderful honouring of wholeness.
I'm so grateful for your presence in this space. 🙏💜✨
Love this. Reminds me of my crow. The bird that seemed to recognize me. We have many crows were I live, some huge ones, and on a walk one day, one of them seemed to follow me, as if wanting to connect. The next day, it appeared the same crow was there again, following me, watching, waiting, observing. Fascinating creature. I've learned since that crows might be one of the smartest birds in the world and can even have "emotional" lives. I also had a greco that hung out on the porch of the jack Kerouac House in Florida where I was a writer-in-residence for a time. I named it Chuck. It was there every morning near my chair on that porch, seemingly checking on me.
Thank you for reading, David, and for your lovely comments. Your animal stories make me smile. For many years, like you, I've been a crow person. Crows, wolves, and deer go together. In my office, I've got quite a collection of found crow feathers from both sides of an ocean. The crow who followed you undoubtedly knew you. What a beautiful connection. And Chuck! How cool. You're reminding me of one summer, when my husband named a chipmunk in our yard Gordon. The little guy was so tame, and Hugh got him to crawl up is arm. After a while, since we couldn't tell the difference between the chipmunks, we ending up calling them all—singular and plural—Gordon. Very cool, too, that you were a writer-in-residence at the Jack Kerouac House. I'll bet you have lots of stories from there!
Beautiful, Robin! I'm not sure I've had the same level of animal connection/magic as this, but glimpse of a kingfisher on winter solstice (light in the dark/grey/wet), a small beetle very shiny green by a blade of parched grass (my place in things, a reminder to be in the moment), a frog on the back doorstep (how many more had I missed in our garden before through pack of attention) -- small beautiful, uplifting, and leaving a sense of wonder/magic, not least in knowing that it's always there, regardless or not of whether I happen to see it.
Beautiful journey, Robin. Facing the shadow gave you the story ending that had been eluding you.
During the pandemic, my animal was Hawk. He would come and sit in the river birch right outside my kitchen window, and stayed close. I saw him as friend, checking in on me. Hasn't been back in awhile--I kind of miss him.
Robin, I love that Hawk stayed by you in that unsettling time. I remember how wondrous it felt when there were fewer cars on the road during the pandemic, and the ravine animals were more visibly present in our neighbourhood. I hope Hawk returns to you. Thank you for your perceptive reading of this piece, and for your generosity in sharing.
Yes, the pandemic was a time of unsettlement. In different ways, we feel it today. I would love to see Hawk again.
Thank you for sharing your Alsatian story--I never knew that name for German Shepherd but just learned it was coined during World War I to counter anti-German sentiment in the UK. Interesting who language can be shaped by the times, no?
What a beautifully told and deeply magical story, Robin. I can see why this experience has stayed with you. Although I don’t live in a particularly wild place (a small historic town on the coast north of Boston), I have fairly frequent encounters with the more that human. This is partly due to the fact that I am outside pretty much every day, so I am where the creatures are. 😉 You already know about my recent fix encounter, and my near-daily interactions with the local crows. I also often have close meetings with various hawks, and also pay attention when I am visited by butterflies, moths, ladybugs, spiders, praying mantises, and others of the six-legged persuasion. My beau, who spends most mornings walking in the nearby state park, has almost daily encounters with deer, and less frequent ones with owls and coyotes. The animals really are all around us, we just have to slow down and pay attention enough to notice them. 💜
Jamie, I'm so glad you enjoyed this. Thank you. The place where you live sounds pretty wonderful to me. Years ago, I visited Boston and other parts of New England, and really enjoyed the area. Like you, I love crows! Living close to Quebec woods and a couple of large rivers, we also get to experience the larger birds. How beautiful that you and your beau can be outdoors daily, seeing so many animals. I agree that the natural world is everywhere. Living much of my life in Toronto taught me that. Your recent fox encounter was breathtaking! 💜✨
This is so beautiful, Robin! I feel and have always felt a very strong connection with animals. Each encounter feels spiritual in our sharing of unconditional love. Growing up in Arizona, I know the concept of spirit animals, but don't feel that I have met one. At least, not yet. 😉
Cathy, thank you! What a lovely message. It's beautiful that you feel a strong connection with animals, and that your encounters feel spiritual and loving. And how cool that you grew up in Arizona! I have visited some of your childhood state's vast landscapes. What a sense of spaciousness you must have experienced, and I wonder if that early environment contributed to your cultivation of intuition. If you're interested in reading about spirit animals (or "power animals," as they're sometimes called) I recommend checking out the work of Tom Cowan. His book Shamanism as a Spiritual Practice for Daily Life has a whole chapter devoted to the subject. But of course there are many other great resources. And life has a way of guiding us.
Thank you for your kind comment and book recommendation, Robin. I know what you mean about the spaciousness. I drove to meet friends in Sedona after I had been living in Connecticut for many years. It felt otherworldly to me. It seemed as through I could see forever.
Wow, I'll bet. It's such a distinctive place.
This gave me goosebumps!
I'm glad! Thanks for telling me, Julie.
Robin I'm fascinated by your connection with the Black Wolf in your drumming circles! In my thirties and forties I had the honor of participating in several drumming circles and participants would talk about their animal spirit guides. I remember the Black Wolf held great wisdom--he carried with him "the secrets of the night and could see things we as mortals could not"--he was always viewed as a protector but also was bringing gentle wisdom to making peace with "our dark sides or shadow selves"--to not discard them or ignore them but to grow alliances with them--and through integration one becomes more whole, more compassionate to their wounds or shadows. A great essay here!
Gerard, I'm most grateful to you for sharing your experiences in drumming circles, including encounters with Black Wolf. I love what you've written about the secrets of the night and making peace with our shadow. Thank you for offering wisdom. I'm glad you found resonance in this piece. 🙏
I love it. Anything is natural I find it so close to soul
Thank you, Raed.
What a lovely read. So moving. ♥️
I'm glad you enjoyed this, Hugh. Thanks for listening.
Robin, I love your encounter. In dreams, Rei, my American Akita companion, often stands in for the wild part of myself that I am afraid will be TOO wild for others' liking! She is helping me work through shame at being too intense and feral, not naturally "feminine enough".
I am excited for the writing circles, and will share with some friends!!
Oh, yes! As an Akita, your Rei is a very close relative of the wolf. What perfect companions you are. Maria, I'm thrilled that you'll be taking part in our writing circles, bringing your wild magic to the page. And to us!
Wow Robin! What a powerful crossing you made there ... walking with fear until it revealed itself as a kind of guardian. The way the 'beast' stayed just long enough for you to turn and meet him feels like the moment a story decides you’re finally ready to see its face. I’m left wondering what part of you he may have been escorting? Hmm, maybe something you were only just beginning to claim back then.
As for my own 'beast' encounter ... a few years ago, while wandering through my local park, I crossed paths with two dogs known for their fierceness. Instead of shrinking away as I usually did, I tried something different: I held my own fierceness in mind, honouring the wild energy I tend to exile into shadow. As I passed them, calm and present, the dogs seemed to soften ... I swear they even smiled! 🙏💖🐾
Also, Deborah, I'm sitting with your question.
"The way the 'beast' stayed just long enough for you to turn and meet him feels like the moment a story decides you’re finally ready to see its face." Your comment gives me chills, Deborah, since it applies not just to the story in relation to me, but to my main character Joseph's story in relation to him. That whole first novel is about walking with a shadow. One that crosses an ocean into a New (Old) World.
Thank you for sharing a beast encounter, too! I love your account of holding your own fierceness in mind in the presence of the fierce dogs. What a wonderful honouring of wholeness.
I'm so grateful for your presence in this space. 🙏💜✨
Love this. Reminds me of my crow. The bird that seemed to recognize me. We have many crows were I live, some huge ones, and on a walk one day, one of them seemed to follow me, as if wanting to connect. The next day, it appeared the same crow was there again, following me, watching, waiting, observing. Fascinating creature. I've learned since that crows might be one of the smartest birds in the world and can even have "emotional" lives. I also had a greco that hung out on the porch of the jack Kerouac House in Florida where I was a writer-in-residence for a time. I named it Chuck. It was there every morning near my chair on that porch, seemingly checking on me.
Thank you for reading, David, and for your lovely comments. Your animal stories make me smile. For many years, like you, I've been a crow person. Crows, wolves, and deer go together. In my office, I've got quite a collection of found crow feathers from both sides of an ocean. The crow who followed you undoubtedly knew you. What a beautiful connection. And Chuck! How cool. You're reminding me of one summer, when my husband named a chipmunk in our yard Gordon. The little guy was so tame, and Hugh got him to crawl up is arm. After a while, since we couldn't tell the difference between the chipmunks, we ending up calling them all—singular and plural—Gordon. Very cool, too, that you were a writer-in-residence at the Jack Kerouac House. I'll bet you have lots of stories from there!
The Kerouac House was a glorious experience.
Yes, I have crow feathers, too!
Beautiful, Robin! I'm not sure I've had the same level of animal connection/magic as this, but glimpse of a kingfisher on winter solstice (light in the dark/grey/wet), a small beetle very shiny green by a blade of parched grass (my place in things, a reminder to be in the moment), a frog on the back doorstep (how many more had I missed in our garden before through pack of attention) -- small beautiful, uplifting, and leaving a sense of wonder/magic, not least in knowing that it's always there, regardless or not of whether I happen to see it.
How gorgeous and profound. Thank you, my friend.
Thank you for sharing this beautiful piece about you encounter with the Alsatian. I'll be on the look out now for magical animal connections.