Having been raised by strict Catholics, I was exposed to a plethora of fantastical stories. Upon first hearing them, I believed each one of them wholeheartedly albeit somewhat wide-eyed. Some, like the existence of guardian angels, made a lot of sense to me. Others, like Original Sin and the classic catechistic imagery of souls as milk bottles, were a stretch for my fertile imagination. Before I even graduated from high school, flush with my youthful ignorant arrogance and burgeoning sense of intelligence, I summarily dismissed the entire Canon of the church, writing it all off as hopeful fairy tales.
Not even two years later, during my sophomore year in college, I was actually introduced to my true “guardian angel”, a “familiar” who took the form of Rogue, an 80 pound male Belgian Shepherd. He was jet black with a white spot on his chest and belly. He guided me stalwartly and resolutely and with unflagging fealty for the next 18 years. And it was a rough patch of road that we walked together winding its way through those years. Finishing college, hitchhiking coast to coast a couple of times, homesteading in the wilderness of Nova Scotia until finally landing in southern California to put our roots down for a minute. I am glad that both my boys had the opportunity to spend time with him before he returned to the spirit realms. I felt so honored to have had his companionship and guidance and protection. And, really, what is an angel anyway? I assumed that this was a once in a lifetime blessing and was fairly certain I would never “have” another dog. At the time, I did not yet understand the nature of “angels” and their ubiquitous oversight and presence. Nor did I understand the foolishness of using absolutes to frame what is unknown.
I moved on with my life which included a succession of pet cats, never a dog. Missing Rogue’s assistance in navigating life’s many twists and turns in raising a family and running a business, I eventually sought out a shaman to help me connect with my “familiar”. As the word implies, a “familiar” is a member of one’s spiritual family, some might say an aspect of one’s very soul. There is a very deep bond to say the least. Over the millennia, the church, recognizing a legitimate challenge to their power, tried to downplay the role of familiars by associating them with witchcraft and magic and, of course, Satan. Having already spent more than half my life at that time in the company of my familiar, I knew better and I tracked down a shaman versed in these ways.
Let’s face it. We are all shapeshifters to one degree or another. Forget the ridiculous imagery of angels having wings and harps and clouds. Familiars are spirit guides that have a supernatural bond with their human charge. They intentionally incarnate in this earthly realm to support, guide and assist you along your spiritual journey. It usually shows up as an animal but can actually take any form, including a tree or a piece of land. Or even a human ancestor (both bloodline and karmic). It is a continuum from a guidance band in the Great Mystery. That spirit is very much part of your “soul family”. Angel is just another word for a familiar. The very fact of their existence is living proof of a dynamic interplay (intervention) between the spiritual and physical realms. It would greatly behoove humanity to understand this
The shaman did not disappoint. We travelled together to the mysterious underworld and, by and by, it became obvious that my primary familiar was expressing at that time in the form of a wild rabbit. Suddenly wild rabbits appeared everywhere in my life, even in the most unlikely situations. The rabbits taught me many things but they were always wild and always free. The “rabbit teachings” were exactly what I needed at the time, and they guided me successfully through some very precarious life passages.
Fast forward twenty years from Rogue’s demise and situate me in New Mexico. My guardian angel beckons once again. Still a dog, still jet black with the same distinctive white spots, a female this time. I instinctively recognize her as a shapeshifted Rogue. She was a wild thing living on the mean streets of downtown Albuquerque. She kept trying to make contact, kept appearing on the edge of my field of vision, but she acted as though unapproachable, being so defended. She would get me to look at her, then she would quickly look away. That is, until the day I called to her as she was running away from me: “Rogue, it’s me!!”. This simple statement stopped her immediately in her tracks, as if it were a password breaking some unspoken code. She subsequently allowed herself to be captured. She was a bit smaller than “Rogue E. Bear” so we agreed on the name L’il Bear. We spent the next 17 years together, inseparable. From New Mexico to California to Maui. She was clearly my significant other in so many ways. I buried her up on the ridge on the exact spot that had been the hocoka for the sweatlodge. I actually relocated the lodge so she could claim her seat of honor. I planted a koa tree sapling to mark her grave. That is a towering majestic koa tree today. It is here, next to L’il Bear, that I buried the body of Bushi Bear a few weeks ago.
The years between my arrival with L’il Bear in 1999 and the arrival of Bushi Bear in 2012 were quite intense shamanically. It was more than a decade filled with ceremony and initiation, purification and renewal, and life-altering rituals. With L’il Bear faithfully watching my back, I spent a lot of that time walking between worlds, making my way through the shadowlands. I was provided good helpers and direction as I deepened my understanding of spirit guides. How, for example, in addition to familiars, there were also asundry “agents of change”-gatekeepers and wayshowers-providing assistance and guidance. I was shown how a particular piece of Earth can be a familiar. Or another human being can be an angel. I also came to know how that same energy-that same guidance band-simultaneously inhabits one particular star in the night sky. In my case, it is a specific star that exists in Ursa Major, a constellation known as the Great Bear. It was Paraclesus who wrote, “There is in each person, in every animal, bird and plant a star which mirrors, matches or is in some sense the same as a star in the heavens.”
L’il Bear’s spirit left her body in January, 2012. Bushi Bear’s arrived in hers 7 months later.
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