A Fine Moose

This past season has been rougher for me than most.  Lots of shifts, and initiations, and shamanic deaths.  Just when I thought I had weathered them all and was once more regaining my strength and the confidence that I could trust the twists and turns of my path, my path twisted again. 

Just over a week ago I received news of a life-altering, and potentially life-threatening, situation.  After a minor leg injury a few weeks earlier, I had developed a blood clot (the details of which I plan on posting more about soon), but over the course of this past week conditions continued to improve considerably.  Ironically, it seems that by the time I found out I was in danger, steps had already been taken to neutralize that danger.

At the beginning of last week, after a pair of medical appointments that indicated everything moving in a positive direction, and thus feeling a bit more reassured and centered, I felt the call to journey on this experience.  So on my way home from my Naturopath, I stopped at one of my favorite parks and walked down to this semi-secret magickal spot a friend had shown me years ago, down through the trees on the bank of this burbling, crystal river. 

I reclined on some rocks overlooking the water and asked myself why I don't come here more often?  Four salmon, swimming in a diamond shape, swam up river past me, and I realized it'd been about a year since last I visited this sacred spot because the salmon were swimming then too.  I thanked the salmon folk for appearing to me, instantly recognizing their message that I too was on my way home - that I could trust my inner compass to get me there.

I leaned back a bit further and closed my eyes.  I didn't have my drum with me, so I pulled out the bottle of ibuprofen that I keep in my book bag, and began to shake it softly.  An impromptu rattle for an impromptu journey.  Soon I felt the shift when my consciousness clicks into place and begins to ride the 'wind-horse' into the other realms... 

I expected to meet Nathaniel, my reindeer guide, and though the first thing I spotted was a fuzzy nose, I soon found out it wasn't his. As has happened often in the recent past, a huge bull moose stepped into view.  Moose medicine is about self-esteem, and his constant vigil with me has been all about stepping into my power. 

 

So I asked him how that fit into this latest experience, since I felt less powerful and less safe than I had in a very long time.  Instantly he showed me the image of a newborn moose, still wet from birth and with legs so wobbly that he could not stand up on them yet.  The picture expanded and  I realized the babe's mother was lying there with him, sheltering him and licking him to clean his shiny coat.  The message sank in even as Moose voiced it in my mind, "It is when you feel at your weakest and most vulnerable that you are most cared for, nurtured, and cradled by the Universe." Ah! This was a birth, duh! 

 

Moose went on to tell me I would find my legs and embrace my power.  And despite having the power to plow a trail anywhere, I would walk nimbly and gently upon the earth, because by just standing in my power I would see my path open up before me.  There is no need to push or force my way.

I felt it was time to return to my body sitting on the rocks, so I thanked the moose and bid him farewell. I slowly opened my eyes and took a deep appreciative breath.  For a few moments I drank in the warm sunlight along with the surrounding peace of this scene, then I smiled down on the burbling water. 

"Alright.  I will stop pushing the river."