I am connected with my elk hide drum. Touching it, I feel an alive animal. Blood pumping, muscular, thriving. I imagine myself skinned after I pass. The process of pulling back the skin and letting it dry. The grotesqueness of seeing my skinned body, only muscle and tendons – flesh, and skull. In my journey, confronting my skinned body, no longer me and yet, if I was to be a drum, I would have a resonance. A second life.
When I play my elk drum, I am connecting with the elk’s resonance, it’s song. I bow to the elk. I pray with the elk. I learn from the elk. I am grateful for the elk and it’s continued existence.
Wood Pecker – The spirit animal of this particular journey. In my vision, he pecks into our old, large oak tree by our house in his search for insects. He pecks through the hard bark of the tree to obtain the bug. The desired sustenance and life force behind hard walls and exteriors.
And that hard exterior is the bark of the tree. The living tree, who is being attacked for another’s opportunity to eat. And yet, the strong tree can withstand the pecking – and while it sets a boundary by emitting a chemical to deter the pecking, it does not stop the winged ones from landing on it’s branches. Truly, every part of the tree is a home or resting point for an entire ecosystem: Bugs, spiders, birds, foxes, squirrels to name a few. It’s branches and leaves provide shade for bigger mammals on the surrounding earth as well. Trees are one of the oldest species on this planet; they have learned resiliency through co-existence, their reaction slow and endurance, seemingly patient and peaceful. Can I be the tree? Can I embrace the ecosystem, living within me, on top of me, around me – the heavy weight of others on my limbs – and still be rooted and strong.
As humans, we cut down trees. Sudden and sharp. Most times we don’t think twice of the tree hitting the ground for we see the second life of the tree, the continuation of life.
It is then in my vision, that my Dad came forth. I see the moment of his passing in the car, the day after his 33rd birthday. I see him in the front passenger seat, his final breath, his soul shifting to the ether, watching his breathless body as he is guided away by light beings – back to the whole. He lets himself go.
I shudder, He let himself go, he let himself be guided away. As I am drumming, I become overcome with grief. Why didn’t he fight to stay in his body? I am taken back to that moment. I am 4 years old again. Tears falling down my face. The deepest despair: I was so small… so so small. I drum and feel into the annihilation of perceived strength, stability, and protection. This is the moment of weakening in my life, I think. The root of the story of why I can’t protect my body. I cry and cry, feeling into the smallness and innocence lost. My heart broken wide open, raw.
It is then, the journey shows me, that my heart breaking open at the tender age of 4 was the cracking of the seed of me. The loss, bursted me open. Most seedlings grow gradually – not me in this lifetime. I was to come forth fast in order to grow into an old, strong oak.
At first, strengthening my body with sports. Then, pushing my body and soul to limits with substance abuse in order to then find peace of mind on the other side with sobriety.
4 years old and onwards, a life sensitive to the existential truth of impermanence, a truth we all confront one day. And so this cracking open at such a tender age was a gift. Through loss, I was open to look beyond the matrix – free to question, explore, to choose.
All of the questions and contemplations of death have guided me to the shamanic path. Now I see my mother and father in the trees: the eternal mother and father, always available to connect with as stabilizing and protective forces.
It’s okay to cry and feel small and alone. Just remember, the tears and experiences of death are what has allowed you to expand, wide and open.
May we remember, even if we are cut down suddenly, we all innately have a
- A strong beginning
- A strong middle
- A strong end.
Because it’s a loop, not a straight line. If you look deeply at the cycles of nature, you will see we all live a second life.
May this be a moment to contemplate your future forms after your seemingly final breath.
Want to talk about it? Contact me here
