Now that cooler weather is here the animals are energized, celebrating by running in the pasture and kicking up their heels, loving these cold mornings. I love them too but I must admit that I haven’t been running laps or kicking up my heels. I am back to enjoying my chores though now that the heat and humidity is gone.
Rainbow, turned 24 on November 21st. I met him when he was two months old and brought him and his brother, Inka, to live with me when they were 6 months old. Those boys cemented my love for llamas and I’m so happy that Rainbow is still physically here and still my good buddy. Rainbow was always a sweet, unassuming, quiet boy, while Inka was a shaman and a master teacher, one of my greatest teachers ever. And he still is, even though he’s not in his body anymore.
It’s close to 20 years ago now that the farm moved onto this land. I had always been a renter; the farm started out on a rented plot of land with a lovely cabin and a really responsible landlord. When I was able to purchase this land for the farm (the farm actually owns the land, I’ve always been the caretaker) and found myself the responsible party, I was overwhelmed. I suddenly had 50 acres, a house, and a barn to take care of and I had no idea how to do it. I’d never even called a plumber before, didn’t know what a bush hog was, or a weed whacker, or a come-along, or all of the various farm tools that are essential to keeping things going. I muddled along getting help from a couple of local farmers and learning from my many mistakes.
A couple of years in, I was so overwhelmed that I felt I would just break down. I got a farm sitter and went to a silent retreat in the mountains for a week. While there, I spent the first few days fretting, worrying, freaking out, and generally just going nuts. Then I had this brilliant idea—I’ll quit. Who says I have to keep doing Hummingbird Farm? I can quit. Suddenly I could breathe again and I felt so free, so happy.
When I arrived back home, the first thing that struck me was the way I always get butterflies in my stomach when I come up over the rise in the road and Hummingbird Farm is there before me. And I loved the way the animals in the pasture know that I’m coming and they are excited to greet me. When I pulled up by the barn, Inka came running to the gate and I went to greet him. We touched faces and breathed in each other’s breath. Then he said, “It’s so good that you surrendered. But you can’t quit.”
I was dumbstruck. I can’t quit? I looked around and felt the animals here, the strong pulse of the land, and the song of the river. What was I thinking? Of course, I can’t quit. Yet, my stress and overwhelm were gone and I felt free. Somehow, I had totally surrendered and felt ready to resume my life and work here. And what a gift all of these years have been to me.
In the last newsletter, I wrote about my love for birds and my relationship with them. Since then, I have had numerous bird encounters to show me that they “heard” me and that they feel a relationship with me too. I was driving home from town, going up an onramp to Highway 64. There was a car in front of me and I saw a Great Blue Heron standing on the guardrail. What the heck was a Great Blue doing there? The car in front of me passed the bird but he didn’t move. When I got closer, he turned toward me, spread his wings, and looked directly at me. Then, he leapt into the air, flapping his wings, and flew parallel with my car for about a mile before veering off and flying away. I felt that bird all through my body, telling me that I am not alone, I am connected, I am seen and heard. Since then, I have had similar experiences with a Great Horned Owl and with a Red-Tailed Hawk.
There are many sacred, spiritual paths and each is unique and individual. For many that path is a particular religion that guides and teaches many, yet is still a personal, individual guiding force in that person’s life. For others it could be science, or it could be nature, or the stars. For me, the spiritual path has always been with and through animals. They have led me, protected me, stayed present with me, loved me unconditionally, guided me, and taught me for my whole life. I am more grateful than I could ever fully express in words and so I have simply, happily, given my life to them. And they have never disappointed me.
We live in stressful times, though some would argue that we’ve always been in stressful times. But I don’t think it’s ever been so “loud” before, so in your face, so inescapable. At least, that’s the way it seems to me. We have to create our own safe space, our own bubble where we can breathe and feel whole and connected. For me, I am in that place when I’m with animals, or when they pop into my space unexpectedly like the birds did.
I count on the animals to remind me that I am connected, that we are all connected, that no matter how different our opinions are, our lives are, our paths are, our souls are touching and we are all one. In these loud, chaotic times I often need reminding and that’s okay because the animals never forget.