Thursday, February 5, 2015

ONE OF MY HAPPIEST MOMENTS!

The Ceremonial Hunter



I have had many, and like Barry said these days are the happiest, but I say that because these days are alive, and the others as good as they were have happened, and are alive memories.  One of my moments was a supreme moment in the forest in the days I was hunting and stalking wild dog packs. It was dangerous, but I relished it all. 

The moment I am remembering was a supreme morning of sunlight that gave more light to the canopy, and moisture to the ground. I was silent and flowing barefoot listening and merging with the rhythms that moves the soul outside the body as the body effortlessly reclines into invisibility. Everything within me understood everything around me guiding the coming together of something I barely was aware of. 

As the foliage wet my chest, and the Earth subtly moved beneath me the thickness of the bush parted ever so slightly, and one of those sacred spaces that dot forests revealed itself to me. Before me the sun touched down a circle around a feral cat deeply enthralled in thoughtful meditation. What most don't know, grasp, or understand is that the substance of prayer emanates from animals constantly, but in the secret places it is more dramatic, and animals tend to restrain from killing. I was to be no different. With great skill I stepped forward with no sound and touched the cat's neck.

The cat leaped high in the air turned around in a 180 degree turn, stared into my eyes incredulously and seemed to shout, "Oh, shit!!"

He landed. 

He couldn't believe such a thing happened, and wondered later, I am sure, how such a thing happened to him. We stared into each other on opposite sides of the circle of light. We probed deep into each other's intent before the cat's fierceness returned. He turned slowly, and walked into the morning shadows fully conscious of me and where I was standing near his sacred space. 

Out of respect for sacred space I stood still letting the light encase me, and the prayers within became emanations. - Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories 5.26.13




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