Unabashed

I believe I have found an evil place. Yes, I have accounted for the fact that I very nearly died in the canyon of Falling Rock, and that I did so in a way that was teasing (even to myself), but in all seriousness, this place is full of bad mojo. But if you look at the picture below you might think, “How can a place so beautiful be bad?” I can’t tell you that, but it is. Maybe my perceptions will change; I hope they do, but for now, I’m treating this place like it’s got it in for me.

Falling Rock is a beautiful overhang over which water cascades down nearly a hundred feet. Behind the waterfall there is a deep gorge beneath the overhang into which you can explore.

On the day I went Geocaching there (Friday), I found that there was no waterfall due to dry conditions in the area. And furthermore, I can only account for my own scrambled sense of being while I was there. I felt wrong. I felt in a daze, though it was early morning and I’d had breakfast, plenty of fluids and a healthy 1.5 mile hike out to the spot, for whatever reason, my mind was muddled. Once I found the first cache, which is up at the top of the canyon, I punched in the GPS coordinates for the second one, determined that it was down in the bottom of the canyon, and maneuvered down the trail to a place where I could climb down. It was about a sixty foot climb, and my footing was good, although I did begin to feel a twitch in my left knee on the way down, I didn’t think that much about it.

In the bottom of the canyon, looking up at that overhanging cliff (see picture below, courtesy of remy fauxtog), the realization came to me that the rounded cliff looked like an upper lip of an open mouth, and the recession beneath the cliff head looked like a throat. I hiked away from the cliff, down the now-stagnant creek, searching for the Geocache, when I took my double fall that ended my day (as I described in my previous post). I climbed back up out of the canyon following the same path I’d come down, but my left knee was throbbing now instead of just twitching, and my right elbow looked like someone had taped a golf ball to it and sprayed it with ketchup and dirt.

I’ve made many and many hikes in my day. I’ve gone into wilderness without trails, just to see what was there. I’ve waded through stagnant, cottonmouth-infested pools of swampy marsh and worse. I’ve encountered wildlife. I’ve fallen, gotten back up and kept going. I’ve been a lot of places and seen a lot of things. I’ve ridden horseback through the Carmel Mountains in Israel, along ridges a foot wide edging over a precipice five hundred foot sheer. But I don’t think I’ve ever experienced the gloom of a place like Falling Rock. I know that people have died there. My wife grew up in a city nearby and remembers friends from school who got too close to the edge and plummeted to their doom. But the uncanny silence of the place, the appearance of the open mouth of Earth, waiting to inhale and suck you down into its depths, makes me believe that this might always have been a Bad Place. And I believe there are places in the world that are good, and there are some that are bad. Indians had their holy places, where they would go to commune with the gods, where they would bury their honored dead. I do not believe any Indians were ever buried at Falling Rock, though I believe some might have died there. It is a place of ethereal beauty, but filled with haunting gloom. If I ever go back again, I do not think I will go alone.

written by Matt Mitchell \\ tags: evil, haunted places, mojo, scary, wicked, wild, wilderness

The spirit animal: is it a myth, or a misunderstood fact? Most of the information I can find on the internet can justifiably be categorized along with alien abductions and fortune tellers. Nobody really discusses the practicality or possibility of a spiritual connection between animals and humans, at least not that I can find. Animal familiars are a recurring theme in much of the fiction that I write, but, like super hero tights, it’s something that looks better on paper than in real life. In real life, people who claim to have animal familiars are generally:

• Middle aged white guys who claim to be Indians.
• Wacky Wicca practitioners.
• Twenty-somethings who never quite let go of the D&D habit.
• Tarot readers who stage seances and ”commune with spirits.”

Which is probably why nobody talks about spirit animals in a practical sense, even if they believe in the concept: they don’t want to get grouped in with the new agers. This is a bit discouraging for me, because I like animals, and I like nature, and I like to think that somehow we are all connected together. For me, it’s not so difficult to believe that animals do have some keen insight into humans that even humans do not share with one another. Animals can tell when an earthquake is coming, they can tell when a wildfire is spreading, they can tell when the volcano is about to blow, and they might be able to tell a human that they’re about to get run down by a bus. It’s been proven that dogs can predict when someone is going to die, and that they can smell cancer inside a person who’s still alive.

So, it’s really not the practicality of the idea that has me drawn up, it’s the function of it, and the corruption of the concept by people who never understood it in the first place, but proclaimed to. But it’s in our nature to take things too far. Someone latched onto the concept of the totem or spirit animal and filled in the blanks without really understanding what it was all about and then the false version spread like wildfire. The fact is, I do believe animals can communicate important tidings to humans. But I believe humans are too self important to be able to hear the message.

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I’ve taken several online quizzes, crafted to unveil your totem. Twice I got a wolf and once I got a wolverine (maybe that tells you something about my mentality). But there aren’t many animals to choose from, generally, and there’s no separation of breed. If your animal guide is a hawk or an eagle, it only says hawk or eagle, it doesn’t specify any particular breed. This is a problem for me because the behaviors of animals from one breed to the next can be radically different. The golden eagle vs. the bald eagle, for instance. The bald eagle is noted as primarily a scavenger, whereas the golden eagle is a fierce predator. What am I to learn from my spirit animal when I have such a wide array of behaviors? Essentially, of course, I have nothing to learn, because they aren’t my spirit animals, and neither, I suspect, are a wolf (which has several different breeds) or a wolverine. There’s usually even a bird entry. Just, ‘bird.’ And if a bird is your totem animal then your characteristics are “unity, freedom and individuality.” But then if you read on you’ll find entries for quail, heron, hummingbird, sandpiper and seagull. Among others. And on that same page you can buy a dream catcher. Now this all just smacks of a modernized version of astrology. Nobody’s asking you for your sign anymore, now they want to know your spirit animal. It sounds like the same game played in reverse. But I’m out to find truth, and there’s truth here, I believe, it just takes digging to get to it.

The similarities don’t end with astrology (which I do believe in, but like spirit animals I think humanity has zero grasp on what’s actually going on out there), there’s also reincarnation, when people it seems are always the descendants of an ancient princess or king or explorer or Duke. They’re never the descendant of a hooker or plumber or farmer. Likewise, people always seem to have cool spirit animals: wolves, bears, tigers…you never hear someone saying: “My spirit animal is a house fly.” Or a dung beetle. The only insect I’ve found so far has been a dragonfly, which is a pretty cool insect. But there are other really cool insects: fireflies, Luna moths, honey bees, June beetles, etc., all of which I think are very interesting and lovely to behold.

Sometimes we inherit our spirit animals, like this unlucky native New Zealander Papua New Guinean from Austrailia who didn’t like hers:

My mother said that the Bird of Paradise is what we take care of because it is the totem we have been given by our village. Yet I think of the vain male Bird of Paradise and nothing speaks to my spirit. When I think of the plainer females who are watching the display of these male birds I reflect on cultures where the women serve in the background and their men do not appear to give them freedom. I don’t want this bird to be my spirit animal.

She goes on to explain:

Totems are often given in traditional cultures. The animals are the responsibility of that village or tribe and are incorporated into art. A totem as well as being something you are a custodian of is something to tell stories about, and in some cultures you may not be allowed to eat it. Many creative writers chose to give a character the qualities of an animal - to make them mouselike, cat like, etc for the purpose of creativity.

Today the modern conservation movement asks people to adopt koalas, whales, dolphins, tigers and in fact any endangered species and to care for them. Is this a revival of the tradition of totems being applied to modern needs.

And that is one of the keys of all this to me: that our mystical relationship with animals isn’t necessarily all that mystical at all. We have animal qualities sometimes, and if we observe animals we can gain knowledge about the environment. For instance: When the tsunami struck Indonesia in 2004, there was a group of indigenous people on an island who survived, intact, because before the water began to swell, they observed that the animals were all heading for higher ground. They had taken a key from the animals, deduced that the animals were trying to escape something, and followed them.

It isn’t necessary that we have one spirit animal apiece, but that we observe the animal kingdom that surrounds us. And the animals don’t necessarily tell us what’s going to happen willingly, but if we are in tune with their migrations and habits and behaviors, we can deduce from their actions certain details that we might not have known before. Have you ever seen a kettle of vultures circling and thought, “There must be something dead underneath where they’re circling.” In the indigenous mind, this is the spirit of animals speaking to the human. It’s really not as mystical as we’ve made it out to be.

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But there is a mystical aspect to spirit animals. Thomas E. Mails’ The Mystic Warriors of the Plains has an entire chapter dedicated to visions, and animal helpers or guides make frequent appearances. One Sioux named Plenty Coups had a vision once in which he found that a chickadee was his animal familiar. He observed the chickadee and found it to be ever present and always seeming to be listening to what was being said. He therefore began to emulate that pattern of behavior and became a powerful warrior and chieftain. Mails delves into the specifics of the practice of visions and medicine to the Native American, and how, often, animals manifest in significant roles.

Visions, to Indians, involved extended and sometimes torturous rites that might include self mutilation, fasting, purification by smoke inhalation, etc. So, it seems to me that if we really want to experience what the indigenous people experienced, if we truly want to meet with our animal guides and find out what they can do for us, we must emulate the methods by which those guides were found. We can’t take an internet quiz or look through a picture book to find which animal we think is most pretty, we’ve got to get down and dirty, suffer a little bit for the sake of our souls, and see what the other side has to offer.

How, exactly? Well, for one, you’ve got to get away from people. All people. You’ve got to get somewhere high up, preferably with water flowing nearby so you can cleanse and purify yourself, after which you’d need to cake your body with white clay. There needs to be some element of danger from wild animals or falls or the like; you need to be out of your comfort zone by a wide margin. You’ve then got to assemble a sweat lodge and sweat it out for a long, long time, occasionally giving yourself a little cut here and there to bleed out the bad spirits. All the while you can’t eat or drink anything, and it would be preferable if you were inhaling the smoke of sacred sage or pine straw. Sometimes they would slowly walk in a circle or figure eight, praying, letting loose of everything. This can continue for days on end, until finally the visions come. Of course, the thought might cross your mind to just go out in the woods for a while and come back and fake it, but to the indigenous mind this would be tantamount to suicide. To lie about an encounter with a vision was one of the utmost sins. No, it was understood that some people were less patient; it was also understood that visions sometimes took several tries before they would manifest, if they ever did at all. And if they did, the visions manifest in different ways, for different people. You weren’t guaranteed a spirit animal; sometimes they would see a specific star or other celestial body, and sometimes they would see a vague human shape that they couldn’t identify at all, which sounds particularly nightmarish to me.

In South America, native Peruvians blended a powerful hallucinogenic called Ayahuasca. In the Southwest US, peyote was utilized to the same effect. I’m sure elsewhere all manner of mushrooms were eaten and hemp was smoked, all in an effort to stimulate the vision that would guide them.

Of course, this is exactly why the concept of spirit animals has devolved into the state it’s in today. People don’t have the time to dedicate to vision questing; nor do they have the inclination to suffer for extended periods for the sake of something that may or may not even become evident. And if any modern person samples Ayahuasca or peyote, it’s usually just to get high. Forget about spiritual experiences or connecting with nature. So they added a little extra goofy mysticism, packaged it as something that’s easy to do, and gave it away for free as a new age solution to modern mental maladies. If there’s true power there, it’s hidden underneath years of misinformation and a riot of phony, fanciful fiction.

But I’m game. Who’s with me?

written by Matt Mitchell \\ tags: animal, animal guides, animal helpers, ayahuasca, mysticism, peyote, quest, spirit, spirit animal, spirit guides, vision quests

Photo by veintecerodos.

I still love this bit from Stephen Hawking’s 1988 book A Brief History of Time:

A well-known scientist (some say it was Bertrand Russell) once gave a public lecture on astronomy. He described how the earth orbits around the sun and how the sun, in turn, orbits around the center of a vast collection of stars called our galaxy. At the end of the lecture, a little old lady at the back of the room got up and said: “What you have told us is rubbish. The world is really a flat plate supported on the back of a giant tortoise.” The scientist gave a superior smile before replying, “What is the tortoise standing on?” “You’re very clever, young man, very clever,” said the old lady. “But it’s turtles all the way down!”

There are many versions of this story, but this is by far the most popularized. My personal favorite goes like this:

An English philosopher was visiting India, and was introduced to a holy man. The philosopher asked the Holy Man the nature of the world, and the old man replied, “Oh the world is a great big ball that sits on the great flat back of the Great World Turtle.” The Englishman of course asked “What does the turtle stand on?” The seer replied “Why on the back of an even larger turtle of course!” Then the Englishman asked “and what does THIS turtle stand on?” The old man shook his head and sweetly smiled and said “it is no use my son, it is turtles all the way down!”

Why is it a turtle that the Earth is sitting upon? Why not a crocodile, or a cockroach, or a mammal even? Because turtles are one of the most ancient species that lives–it is, in fact, the most ancient of all vertebrate animals. It’s not as ugly or filthy as a cockroach, and because the turtle is considered patient, wise, and there’s very little threat of it tipping its head back and eating the planet. The turtle is safe, and with its shell has a solid foundation for the Earth to sit upon.

The turtle is considered in folklore to be a keeper of doorways. Some turtles’ shells have thirteen individual sections, or markings, which led Native Americans to associate the turtle with the lunar cycle and the power of female energies. Being opportunistic omnivores, and being a symbol of Mother Earth, Native American mythos considered the turtle to be powerful medicine, and a reminder that the Earth will provide. Its long life and slow metabolism reminds us to slow down and take our time, and shows us that sometimes it’s okay to live inside a shell.

The turtle appears in modern legends as well. Stephen King uses the turtle in many of his stories. In It, the main character meets a giant turtle professes to have had an upset stomach and sicked up the Universe. The turtle pleads not to be blamed for having inadvertently having created All That Is.

In King’s Dark Tower series, a turtle named Maturin is one of the “Guardians of the Beam.”

See the turtle of enormous girth!
On his shell he holds the earth.
His thought is slow but always kind;
He holds us all within his mind.
On his back all vows are made;
He sees the truth but mayn’t aid.
He loves the land and loves the sea,
And even loves a child like me.

The name Maturin is obviously borrowed from Patrick O’Brian’s Aubrey/Maturin series, just as the name of the great bear guardian was borrowed from Richard Adams’ Shardik, both immensely cool references.

I found a painting of a sea turtle one time over at DeviantArt, a page which has since sadly disappeared, but fortunately I had saved the art piece, along with its inscription:

Due a very stressful period of my life I was constantly having bad dreams and nightmares. During one, I felt myself sink into deep, blue water. I saw the sun filtering down through the water and waves, and slowly a large gnarled, ugly Turtle passed over me. This huge behemoth of a creature, scar covered, and armoured created a feeling of peace within me. The next day, I painted this.

I do sometimes ponder the Earth and mysticism, and I wonder at the practice of using animal totems or having a spirit animal guide. I have no idea what mine would be, nor how I would find out what it is. I’ve always had a fascination with wolves and hawks, turtles and beavers. I hope that doesn’t mean I’m pretentious and slow and large-toothed. I like the idea of spirit animals, sure, but barring some monumental mythic quest, how would you find out what yours are? I have dreamed about whales. I see hawks virtually every day, but I usually accredit that to the fact that there are so many of them living around here. Suppose my spirit animal was a giraffe. Does that mean I’d have to travel to another continent to commune with it? I have no idea, and most of the web resources I find don’t give much good information, just carbon-copy duplicates of other sites that all share the same mentality and fraudulent air of Sybill Trelawney.

written by Matt Mitchell \\ tags: animal, animals, mysticism, spirit animal, tortoise, totem, totems, turtle, turtles

You know, when I said the planets must be lining up because of all the weird I’ve been seeing, I didn’t know they really were. Interestingly, in this article the author claims that planetary alignments “are nothing more than the visible clockwork mechanism of our natural skies,” and that the myths associated with those movements are all erroneous. Well, number one, a myth is by definition erroneous, or at least a myth is an imagination, invented idea or story or concept. Number two, the author fails to consider all the weird that occurs when the planets line up just so. It’s like saying the full moon has no impact on people, and yet, ask any ER nurse or doctor and they’ll tell you that on full moon nights the ER fills up quicker and fuller than usual, and usually with a healthy dose of weird. I’m not saying it’s not a myth, but in my mind it’s a dangerous thing to dismiss anything too quickly, and I think there are still inexplicable things in this vast Universe we live in. In fact, I think it’s downright simple to presume that everyone who believes there is significance in such celestial drama are wrong, when you have no proof of that yourself.

But it is a nice blog (even though it is way too heavy on the advertising), and the author did point out that the planets were all aligning for our entertainments. So go read Universe Today (just pull the RSS feed like I do and you don’t have to bother with the irritating mass of adspace).

Photograph by Richard McCoy.

written by Matt Mitchell \\ tags: full, legend, lined up, lining up, Mars, moon, myth, order, regulus, Saturn, universe