The yellow moon hangs like a shiny gong waiting for a wind to send it rocking. The forest is cool and silent, the only sound the footsteps on the crunch of leaves. It’s 11 of 11 of 11. We are on the edge of a deer run. They come strolling along the trail unaware that for another species with lights out watching in the dark and pondering their own kind, morality is a choice.
For the deer, there is no morality. Choice is not an option. Survival is the only thing as hunting season approaches and the fear begins to mount as they sense danger. Are they killed for food or for sport? Words do not kill them. They are not stalked only to ridicule them or to humiliate. They are not tortured for sport. They are not mocked for entertainment. They are prey and they are animals. But they are not the enemy of themselves. Even the other species considered enemy does not play with its prey sadistically. The killing is swift and purposeful. Purpose-filled.
The forest strikes a balance between those feared and those who fear. Even the furry brown prey have a reprieve occasionally as they can be seen dancing near the edge of a clearing, playing tag and leaping just for the sheer joy of it. There is no measuring of meaning, no envy, jealousy or sin. There is no need to compete, to best or be bested. And occasionally when one who is injured slows down the herd a sacrifice is made of the one for the good of all.
There is no guile, no regret nor judgment. They are magnificent. Such sleek, long legged and magical creatures. Their bones are fine and strong and sharply sculpted; they are swift and elegant. Their eyes the biggest, softest and brown—so big and brown. And they remind me that there is the herd. Another kind of herd; a herd with solidarity, with honor.
A visit to my land, to the home of my heart. To a piece of the earth for which I am “steward.” A brief meeting with a friend who is dying and determined to do it consciously. I told her I can’t think of anything more beautiful than conscious dying. She made me promise I will live. No, LIVE.
There is the healers group journey with my shaman. Everyone saw eyes. Every one of us saw eyes… “Eye of the Tiger,” the eye opens to love, eye of the storm, the eye staring and she realizes it is the eye of a whale. “Look,” they seem to say… and “SEE.”
Later there is sight and sound. The sound of the drum, the fire in the night and I can see them all dancing and swaying across the pond—the two leggeds now. I am quite sure Mary takes a time out from her dying to listen to her beloved drum now passed on to other hands much stronger now who will keep the beat for her, the heartbeat of night as it comes to the forest. The retreatants have left the sanctuary where they spoke of healing and the role of integrative medicine. They come to bond for the sake of their work. Their work brings love and honor to their own kind. They value life not just for its biology or its sake but for its Spirit. They honor the spirit in the life. They bring hands and hearts of healers; they are the urban shaman of medicine.
Then there is the Conrad Murray documentary. In this place of honor, of the study of sanctity as it applies to life, and to a singular life, how can this be true? That a doctor who was complacent, become careless, who was reckless with a medication and who took a life has the arrogance to demand the last word. And the morality of those who came with fists of money to record his movements for two years while a family waited to hear what happened to their brother, father, son.
I want to go back and run with the deer.
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Just perfect… nothing more needs to be said and done. Namaste!
“I want to go back and run with the deer.” Me too.
Thank you Rev. Kaufmann! LOVE and GRATITUDE … 🙂
Oh those deer/dear eyes!
This may be a crude thing to bring here, but if you bear with me it will hopefully be worth it. Remember the Rumble in the Jungle? The prize fight to end all prize fights, in which an incredibly weak and doomed looking Mohammed Ali kept his gloves to his face, and took a terrifying beating to his body, until the mighty, previously undefeated George Foreman punched himself out – to the point of staggering exhaustion. To the point of having nothing left and no ablity to fight anymore at all? Then Ali placed one perfect punch to take his title back.
As of late I have been feeling really bated by the trash media, increasingly wondering what a wall of silence might accomplish? Let “them” filth-spew themselves right out. I keep wondering who is listening to those who slander and eviscerate Michael Jackson, still long after they have apparently killed him. IS it mostly us while the “public” is getting bored? Lately the commenting in this media seems to mostly be from Michael’s supporters, with only the occasional hater slithering in. Are WE keeping them in business? When we boycotted Murray’s trial, their ratings were nothing like they expected them to be; they were poor. If we only throw our support behind that which is Michael-positive, and treat the liars as if they don’t exist, will that be the beginning of their death knell? Should we focus on raising the most masterful of documentaries, ripping the lid off the corporate-controlled media ploy of distracting us away from their evils with the slander of innocent people, Michael Jackson as the worst example of their atrocities? Then blow them out of the water with it when they have all “punched themselves out”? Am I too naive, too dreamy, lacking in knowledge, derailed? The Resistance during the second World War was underground. What say you Rev B, et all?
Dearest magnificent woman Barbara… THANK YOU! L.O.V.E.!
Kind of “starve a fever?” I say “yes” to starve the fever but to ignore the atrocities? That didn’t work well for the Jewish people. I think the plan must be multifaceted and elegant. It’s not just Michael who is at stake here. It’s bigger than that. Working on it. What say the rest of you? ~B
Yes, as soon as I posted I thought of Hitler and what a mistake letting up on the Nazis was. Starving a fever doesn’t necessarily work does it, because ignoring bacterial infection can be a bad idea? Do you ever feel like you are just being bated? Like you are just giving attention to someone that wouldn’t get any if you weren’t givng them it?
The media worldwide is responsible for so much dark shadow, wreaking havoc on a grand scale. It`s a Leviathan [in Michael`s words] that has to be addressed. Count me in! Love and blessings from Scotland.
Just BEAUTIFUL Rev. Barbara, thank you 🙂 I want to run with the deer too. Perhaps that will have to wait as we have some work to do yet. Namaste.
This is just perfect. I am with all of you. Love and peace, Sue.
I want to be a part of the herd of honor. I am definitely game.
I can only mourn, instead of getting used to the fact that human beings are cruel and insensitive … There are many deer in the woods, but the hunters with their gun are the one who have the power to take life by validating their own personal reasons… for now I have no more words only tears.
Or the power to not take a life. Intention is important and determines the effect. To kill for food is not the same as to kill for sport. To kill so as to live is not equal to kill so as to entertain or prove one’s “masculinity” which is often the goal.
I have trouble with humans not embodying their own light through acts of cruelty and insensitivity. Shadow, while most of the time is a default through fear, ego or ignorance is also sometimes volitional and that is hard to grasp. Deliberate and organized evil is a terrifying concept for most people. Its outcome is never good. We saw it illustrated graphically on 9/11 here. The only difference between that and personally organized evil is degree. It’s a continuum but it’s all the same whether the act is giant or small. It’s the same intention and intensity and everyone is downwind of that– the one affects the whole like ripples in a pond. Only the magnitude of the outcome grows. Being a “little evil” is the same as being “a little pregnant;” you are still giving life to something that you are nourishing and is being born.
Thank you, Rev. Barbara. There is incredible wisdom in your post. Though relatively new to metaphysics, I hold, with great respect, the customs and beliefs of Native Americans and other cultures who live reverently with Mother Earth and Creation, honoring the Great Spirit and the powerful connection we all share with each other and all life. While I choose to not partake in animal flesh, I respect those who do with the heartfelt hope that they recognize the preciousness of all life and do not take another’s carelessly.
I think about those who have such bloodlust to hunt and destroy simply for the “thrill of the kill”, for the sport of taking the biggest and strongest and mindlessly demonstrating that they are somehow superior. I find a disturbing parallel in those who cultivate those feelings and desires to those who gleefully enjoyed eviscerating and persecuting an innocent man because he was different and blessed with senses and awareness that far too many of us lack.
On this day of Murray’s sentencing, I look back and ask if what we, the human populace, did to Michael was justified because of his gifts. It sometimes seems that we only wanted his enormous talent and ability to entertain us–we lost sight of the fact that he needed to be human–flawed, vulnerable and imperfect. When I watch Earth Song I not only see mankind’s penchant for greed and destruction, but I see the beauty of enlightenment and consciousness. Redemption. And a sort of justice in knowing that now humanity must ask itself, Is this what we do to the gifted…because we can?
We are a very young species. We have a long way to go in our evolution. Considering all that has happened, it should be easy for us to realize that we were blessed beyond words to have had Michael Jackson in our world. I know I am. I just wish I would have recognized what the media jackals were doing and spoke out in his defense when that first bite tore flesh.
Look at Michael’s eyes. Although his face changed, his eyes never did. It’s difficult to look at them especially in a picture like this where pictures of his eyes are all grouped together. There’s so much to SEE. It’s overwhelming.