Lessons from the Animal Spirits: Walk the walk

I’m not a shaman. Not even close. But I’m an overthinker who studied with one for a little while… And sometimes I gain insights from journeying meditations.

Grow like a tree.

11/18

Cat came slinking through my meditation.  I asked her what she had to teach me.

“Walk the walk” she said, as my mind’s eye followed her mesmerizing saunter. Her stride is both stealthy and commanding. She showed me that she doesn’t need to plead for attention. She doesn’t need to make a sound. Sometimes she can accomplish her mission utterly undetected. Other times, you can’t look away. Her walk is beautiful and composed and confident. She doesn’t seek out followers but she elicits intrigue. Cat tells me to simply walk the walk and live with conviction.  Let the intrigue and curiosity lead the way.

And then she showed me her eyes. Cats eyes are all observation. All reflection.  They are unreadable, and as such, promote introspection. A cat, simply by watching and witnessing, will make people self-aware. You can almost feel the piercing stare of a cat’s eyes on you. And her impassive stare will only reflect what’s in your heart. It could be love and compassion… it could be shame or accusation…. But whatever it is, it comes from you, not her. Cat is impartial.

Cat is also mesmerizing. People often thing of “cat-like” nature as seductive, but it’s more of a hypnotic quality. Cat can take your guard down and reduce your resistance. You can use Cat’s ability to lull and open people to new ideas by gently and quietly lowering resistance.

Later on the walk, Elephant redirected me to the falling leaves. “The beauty of letting go is all around you.”  Leaves spun and twirled to the ground – the beautiful dance of freedom after you let go of the things that can no longer nourish you. What we think of as death and ending can be splendor… a beautiful transition.  Those dead leaves are spectacularly beautiful, creating the substance of joy, children crunching leaves underfoot, collecting, jumping… making memories… and the go back to nourish the earth, fertilizing the seeds of the coming Spring.

It’s the “death” of fall that allows for the new life of Spring.  The soil literally needs that nourishment to sustain new life.

And then came a warning.

“Greed and fear are the most dangerous opportunistic infections.”

I didn’t understand that ominous warning at the end, but it sure is poignant now…

Painting by Shen Rosen