Archive for April, 2007

A Lonely Wolf

April 12th, 2007

Last Spring I took two Animal Communication workshops at Kripalu in Berkshires, MA. Level 1 started Friday night and ended Sunday noon then Level 2 started Sunday night and ended Thursday noon.

The weekend level 1 class was fun but when the level 2 class started the mood changed to become unpleasant. Many people in the level 2 class were already doing animal communication for sometime. All of us, except one, got criticized. A few ladies cried. I had never been in a workshop that was so dreadful, by Tuesday I was thinking about leaving.

It was a light raining day on Tuesday. After lunch I took a walk in the dandelion field with trees. I started seeing twinkling of colors around me, something like flower petals falling and floating in the air. I thought my astigmatism really got bad. I was pondering whether to stay or to leave. I lied down on the grass and the twinkling kept going.

I fell to sleep. When I woke up the twinkling disappeared. As I was walking back to the building I saw an image of a brown horse with a white nose. The horse gave me her name and told me where she lived. She told me to hang in there.

That afternoon our Animal Communication class did a power animal retrieval exercise. Two people were partners and each retrieved the other’s power animal. My partner retrieved me a gorgeous golden brown horse. I realized that was the horse came to me earlier.

Wednesday morning we went outside to the woods and saw the grandfather tree. The teacher said in the Nature there were fairies. Flower fairies would appear like twinkling of colors. So now I was glad I stayed to learn this. I saw flower fairies yesterday.

Our last exercise on Thursday was to communicate with an animal we feared. I didn’t have an animal I really felt fearful so I just sat still and open to whoever came.

A black wolf came.

It was dark at night and I got on the bed. The black wolf sat next to me and said he was lonely. I said I didn’t like him eating rabbits because I loved rabbits and I had one before. The wolf sighed and said he didn’t like eating rabbits, it’s only because wolves ate rabbits. “People don’t understand me,” he said. Then he asked, “come and play with me.”

So we went out to play.

He led me to the rolling fields of Berkshires. We hopped and tumbled and ran around in the tall grass. The moon was up and shining bright. My horse came and joined us and let the wolf and me ride on her back. She cantered us to the grandfather tree. The wolf said under the grandfather three was where he would sit to sing to the moon when he was lonely.

We played and played.

When the time came to depart I told the wolf, “come anytime when you want to play.” The wolf told me, “learn what you don’t know and then you will be on your own.”

 

grandfathertree

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Grandfather Tree – Photography by Maria Yu

 

 

Site59 Last-Minute Weekend Getaways

 

The Song of the Soul

April 8th, 2007

Tuesday afternoon when I was driving on my local country road I saw a bird standing in the middle of the road on my lane. I thought it would fly away when I got close. But it didn’t – it kept standing there. So I stopped, in the middle of the road.

I pushed on the emergency light and came out of my car to find out what’s going on. The bird didn’t fly away even when I approached it. I thought that was unusual and wondered if it was a real Robin or a toy being left behind. I waved to get it to move but it just stood still, not even rolling it’s eyes. A complete frozen pose. I was perplexed.

I stepped to the side of the road to get some fallen branches to move this bird then I saw a Robin lying on the shoulder of the road. It seemed to be dead. Suddenly I understood.

The Robin in the middle of the road was mourning its companion.

They must have been playing together and singing their songs when suddenly this tragedy happened. This survived Robin was not yet coped with what happened and the loss of its fellow, friend or lover. It might be still in shock. It just stood in the middle of the road mourning its companion. I was so moved.

I used a branch to move the live Robin to the roadside and let it perch on a bare bush. Then I went to see the dead Robin. It was intact, but one eye was red. It might be a collision with a car. I got tissue paper to cover it and moved it underneath the live Robin. The bird’s body was soft so this tragedy must have just happened.

I felt the sorrow. I told the live Robin I was very sorry for its loss. I wished I had the power to bring back the life of the Robin. Maybe it just lost its consciousness and it would wake up. I prayed to the Nature spirit to take care of these two birds and all the birds.

What song were they singing before all this?

Earlier that morning I got an email about the passing of a sound healer. This healer had the ability of calling out a person’s soul song. I only met her once and was hoping that one day she could help me find out my soul song.

Gradually and gradually I have come to a realization that our soul song may not be just one song. It could be considered as having many songs in one life time or as having variations and/or key shifts in one song. Ultimately, our song of the soul might be a symphony composed of all life time songs.

Each song or each variation has its own key, tempo, harmony and melody. From time to time the song could be a canon, duet, or quartet. Each note is in a chord. Every chord tone has its unique sound, character, and color.

To choose the notes and chords and to determine the progression of the chords probably is our life purposes. We all have a song to sing and we are our own composers. All the resources are under our command to compose. We must have no fear.

I just remembered the song, “The Rose.”

“It’s the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance.
It’s the dream afraid of waking that never takes the chance.
It’s the soul afraid of dying that never learns to live.”

True, we live through deaths and rebirths. We just need to remember that in the winter far beneath the bitter snows lies the seed of the summer rose.

Yesterday morning a Robin came by and perched on my patio. It seemed to be the Robin who lost its companion. I wished it courage to continue its song, even alone.

 

A Song in Blue Reflection

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Song in Blue Reflection – Photography by Maria Yu

 

 

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