Published author Brian Andreas designs thoughts geared toward giving your imagination reason to let go of reality so you can dine within a feast of playfulness. He writes: A few said they’d be horses. Most said they’d be some sort of cat. My friend said she’s like to come back as a porcupine. I don’t like crowds she said.
If you sit and stare at a dog or cat long enough it becomes easier to understand the body language chosen to engage your ambitions. The four legged furry type mesmerize the elegance of deep thinking in the center of an extremely busy afternoon. I want to shout, “Who are you and where do you come from?”
Are dogs and cats people too? Were they people or might they be studying our awkward behavior knowing the next step in the process is to grow a pair of almost nearly naked hairless arms and legs with a seemingly bigger brain but hardly if ever thick enough to lay claim on such a fascinating skull?
I don’t think I was ever a dog or a cat. Although I’ve rescued many from horrid conditions created by over zealous human stick figures; at times the unperfected circle seems to show me a square or half moon with a hook on the tip to grab whatever’s left after everyone’s gone.
Growing up wild with desires to have hair longer than a wooly mammoth, one might assume a fascination with elephants might in fact feed every reason to believe that his totem animal could be a humungous trunk carrying land walker with vibrant vocal chords that vow to protect.
But I’ve never been visited by the creature of choice therefore making such claims as it being my totem is nothing more than a child’s wish. That’s how human’s work; we think therefore we must be. I see incredible tattoos that features wolves, eagles, bears and snakes and with each passing row of colors I’m always blessed with a need to stop and ask the passerby, “Who, what, why, when and how?”
The truth about totem animals is they pick you…you don’t pick them. Basically meaning just because my teenage walls were blanketed with outrageously cool posters of the rock group KISS and my first garage band featured a lead singer that spit red food coloring from his constantly expressive cussing lips…I’m not Gene Simmons.
Totem animals come to you…
They stand in the hidden shapes of an overbuilt manmade planet and take notes of your growth or lack thereof.
As much as I dream of capturing the stature of a fearless Grey wolf that faces daily challenges like a warrior seeking shelter for his nation; the inner core of such a mindset is what methodizes unexpected blurring during your visions this day forward.
Taking the time to notice the jazz performed by birds is step one in discovering the identity of your teacher. Stop and look around. Document the temperature of the midsummer breeze while accepting the seeds of unnamed weeds growing between your toes.
Nestled in the corner of your eyes will always be the visitor; a turtle, a hummingbird, rabbit, finch, water bug, squirrel, quite possibly a cat, bright yellow bumble bee, gnat, spider or something as simple as a giant black carpenter ant on a mission to build a better soil for his or her ground people.
Just because I wear adult shoes doesn’t mean I’m grown up; shallow things such as totem animal searching fascinates the purpose of my dreams. Jamie Samms and Ted Andrews are brilliant writers and storytellers who’ve taken the time to share the history of why lives are reached not by humans reaching out but animals reaching in.
Play it as a game…if an owl flies in front of the car; do something on the web other than read Face Book entries…seek the knowledge of why the owl elected to choose you to fly beside. Compare it to your day. Utilize the energy of that moment in a decision made. Suddenly you begin to realize that communication isn’t just a human trait. The word is everywhere and in everything.
It’s the size of our ego that keeps us from being as free as the wind.
I will always believe in you first…
arroecollins@clearchannel.com
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