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I am a mystic madman, a wandering wildman, scholar of esoterica, dilettante sadhu, dready-headed hippie (only have a few jata on the back of my head right now, though more be forming of this third set of knotted hair), gentle yogi, fierce foe of falsity. I was a preacher, but I renounced that. I was married, but she renounced me. I was a grad student at one of the top universities in the world on my way to becoming a professor, but I realized they taught lies there too. I am protector of souls, lover of mountains, smoker of herb, fond of hot springs, oceans and lakes and rivers and rain and sunshine, devotee of Devi.

Hindu Gods and Goddesses

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Animal Visitations, Lila and Yoga

As I was falling into a meditation on the meaning of the conjunct terms and appelation satcitananda and almost into r.e.m. sleep, I returned to some degree of wakened state to a dog barking and person beckoning, then the yowl of a big cat. The cat's cry came closer, then closer.

(For best effect, play whilst reading)

As I lay in my down sleeping bag and beneath the plastic tarp's been my shelter, I came to nearly a full return to my waking mind as the cat passed behind me and between me and the Country Lodge, and sounded not much o'er a dozen yards from my bedroll. In a state of almost awakeness I grabbed my hand axe in preparation for a potential battle, though I rather think t'was a she cat and one wanted not a battle, but a sire. I suppose musings about battling a cat for it's skin to wear caused me to consider this one might be taking me up on the idea. Perhaps that I grabbed the axe disuaded whatever chance might have been for that myth to manifest, as it should thus be bare-handed I battle a tiger or a leopard for its hide to wrap around my waist. I suppose my nylon leopard-print sarong shall suffice for now, when I ought bear proper regalia, truest to myself/Self.

Foxes and crows or ravens have been next most significant wild things to this journey and recent lila manifest into real life in my experiencings. Upon first returning to Laramie after epic journey to eastern Canada to find a scarcely known beloved (in the romantic/quixotic sense), I awoke to a fox peaking over a rubble pile just feet above my bedroll. After checking with movement to ensure this creature was curious and not ill, we shared a few moments of eye-to-eye. After rolling up my bed and starting towards the downtown, I passed by the decrepit ruins of the Empress/Fox Theater on Second Street (now demolished, alas), and decided to lend my efforts towards the renovation of said once grand venue, to no avail, alas. Also would often encounter a fox on the way to and from my squat by Spring Creek and the tracks in Laramie.

Ravens and crows have been rather significant players in my path, most notably since one mushroom trip in Washington state, whence donning a shinny and almost irridescent black shirt given me on the streets of Portland whilst I was plying sage smudges, a gaggle of ravens took roost above me, and followed from tree to tree as I started running down the road flapping my arms and calling by my best immitation of their tongue and calls. Though my most notable interaction with birds in Laramie after returning from the eastern states was with the Swainsons's hawks had a nest near my squat and left me a feather, I did gather two black feathers of crow or raven kind which a attached to a carved stick along with a hawk feather proffered by my neighbors in the tree. Considered protectors of sanAtana dharma, literally "eternal teachings," crows and thier cousins are species I attend to with a considerate eye and ear, whenever they chance to fly circles 'round or perch nearby my seat or stand or path.

Of foxes on this journey, near Fossil Creek Road south of Ft.Collins I met another of these red furry friends, encountered on both sides of the highway as we both sought to find a meal around strip malls and fast food joints. This fox walked with me for a stint and then went another way as I went to check for dumpster scores. May have been another brief encounter or two between then and the fox I met behind the quick stop at the lower end of town, here in Woodland Park. This fine specimen of Vulpini vulpes was digging in the dirt at the edge of the road when we first met and exchanged greetings, then passed by my bedroll as I lay under a tree between a neighborhood and a school playground just off the main drag, not unlike the path of my feline visitation of last night in its path round my bed. The night before the foxes visitation, I found a long and elegant wing feather from a raven by my bed.

Indeed, yoga is an endeavor not just including people and Deva-Devi, but includes creatures wild and domesticated, as in truth all are of One, or at least of not-two (Advaita). One of the recognitions expressed in many peoples' choice to endeavor a vegetarian is that the creatures we encounter might just be deceased friends and relatives coming for a visit, else visitations of the Divine. Suppose thus despite failure thus far to do much business with the petrified bones and teeth of long deceased and (mostly/likely) extinct species, and thus deprived of blessings of fiduciary returns, I've been granted a good many blessings from wild critters attending to me and my endeavors subtler and perhaps more important than immediate material gain.

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