Showing posts with label wolf. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wolf. Show all posts

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Wolf Studies - Confusion!



Having just finished re-watching 'Living with Wolves,' the account of Jim and Jamie Dutcher's Sawtooth Pack, and thinking about Shaun Ellis' book, 'Spirit of the Wolf' I find myself thinking that science, in particular biology and the study of wild animals is rather flawed. Here, in these two accounts we see two different sets of naturalists intimately studying wolves, living with them and seeing how they live, yet we see different things in each. In the Dutcher's wolf project, they felt sorrow for the omega Lakota for being at the bottom of the pack pecking order, but in 'Spirit of the Wolf' it would seem that while an omega is the diffuser of tension, they are still so important, but maybe, maybe it's the same. Perhaps Motzi in the Dutcher's study is the beta male in Shaun Ellis' study who protects the omega and keeps good meat for them. The Dutchers certainly never stuck their face in a kill like Mr. Ellis did to find out what each rank of wolf is eating. So, today I'm confused; who is right? I Know I'm not explaining very well at all what I am thinking about, so here:

Dutcher: Omega wolves are scapegoats, important members of the pack but scapegoats nonetheless. (Classic interpretation of an omega.)

Ellis: Omega wolves are not scapegoats, but are 'well paid' for their services by the betas, who save them some of the best meat from a kill, even though the omegas must still wait.

So, who's right? Or are they both right? I certainly cannot say that the Dutcher interpretation of wolf society as patriarchal sounds right, because no matter what, their wolves were still fenced in and were not hunting for themselves during their study, so the crucial element of hunting was missing significantly from their study. In Ellis' studies, we see that it is the alpha female, not the alpha male who leads the pack on hunts and decides what they hunt, so she is, in essence, the real leader, making wolf society matriarchal. Further, the Dutcher's wolves were raised by them, humans, not by other wild wolves, so the behaviour of their wolves cannot be trusted to be accurate and while Ellis' wolves were raised by him as well, he had also studied wild ones, but he had mimicked wolf behaviour by raising his wolves, soo.... I'm confused. I still have not actually read or watched the documentary of Ellis' study, I've only read the book 'Spirit of the Wolf' which he wrote with photographer Monty Sloan, which entails that the alpha female is boss and that wolf society is tremendously more complicated than most people believe.

Soo... confused. I guess I need to go watch Mr. Ellis' documentary - perhaps that will clear up some of my confusion!

I love science, and I love wolves... watching the Dutcher's excellent documentary, I remembered why I'm so head over heels in love with them and why they are so dear to my spirit (besides that one is one of my guides.) They are such tremendous movers, gliding through the forest without effort, with something in them that is just indescribable, from their large, beautiful paws to their round, curving ears and the feathery way their many coloured fur looks on their necks. Wolves are beautiful and I love them with all of my heart. It was so nice revisiting the Dutcher's documentary again and seeing these magnificent creatures once more. They are spectacular and I pity the wolves on Grouse Mountain who are stuck in a tiny little pen - that's no life for a wolf, a creature that so loves to lope - only the wide open wild is good enough for them.

I'm not sure if I will ever be able to accurately write these creatures. I'm pretty sure that no one can. Every book, every study, every documentary is regardless from a human's perspective on how these animals think... so how can we know if we are even coming close? We can't. I don't believe we ever can.

Wolves. <3

Friday, December 31, 2010

I Am Wolf

I Am Wolf

I know a lot of you, those few who read that blog, do not know what that means. Today, I will attempt to tell you and in all likelihood, you will probably start that I'm one crazy bitch, but I'm not. Maybe.

'I Am Wolf' refers to my spirit guide, the arctic wolf who has never thought to tell me his name, who I just call 'Wolf.' A wolf he is, so that is what he is to be called. Wolf. Spirit of the wind and the wild north. Snarling in the darkness and baring his teeth at human kind.

As far as he has let me know, Wolf was killed in his mortality by a human, gunned down by aircraft in one of the most sickening displays of senseless brutality known to this world. I was Wolf's pack, part of his family and when I died in that life, he followed me into this one as a spirit. That is what I believe and in a way, this relationship is embodied in the stories of my characters Northwind and Westwind - Westwind, the once great goddess who has forgotten everything and Northwind, her mate who must deal with this and eternally protect her.

I would go into how I came to know about Wolf, but suffice to say, he has just always been there. Not too long ago in my dreams he began to protect me and I have on occasion even seen him in dreams. Then he started to 'come into me' in these dreams when we were being chased. If I was cornered, he would leap into me and I would become a white wolf of the snow like him to bare our teeth at my enemy, be it the visiting spirit of a cougar or a zombie horde living in the basement of the dream version of my old house. I have always been terrified of basements. They are bad places.

There is a book called Animal Speak by Ted Andrews which talks about animal spirit guides. It is through this book, that I learned that transformation is not a myth, but is real. You can change the shape of your conciousness. It is possible. Through Wolf, I learned to reshape my perceptions and form them into the shape of Canis lupus, literally becoming the wolf, though only in mind. The strangest thing about all this is how I have noticed and felt people treat me at times like an animal, a dog if not the wolf. My uncle dog's Powder snarled at me and for no reason, for we had only just met. There have been times when I have crouched beside somebody and they have treated me just like one would a loyal dog. This is all subconcious. I do not believe that anyone can really see my perception change, but I would like to hope that somebody, at least the other animals can see me. When I look in the mirror and my perceptions have changed, I see a stranger looking back at me. I'm not the human I see. I'm just Rosy, the wolf-who-is-a-human. I wonder if sometimes I think like a dog too.

It is my belief that animals are sentient, that they are just as smart as humans, but that they just think and communicate in an entirely different way. There has been proof and inklings that animals are far smarter than most humans have ever expected. A border collie in Europe can distinguish objects better than most young children can and dolphins have been proved their intelligence time and time again. Wolves, my four-legged brethren of the wind, mourn their dead and even debrief themselves before a mission, the alpha female telling the pack what they are to be hunting with antlers and bones. Omegas keep the pack at peace.

Who are WE to say that animals have no souls and that they are stupid? I believe that humans are the ones who are stupid and that we have lost our way in the dark. We are in a black forest, with only a lantern, but we cannot see the world around us. We pretend that we are not part of the world and we constantly try to control it but this is stupid. The world cannot be controlled. We are ridiculous to think that we can control anything!

To get something out; I don't believe in God. There is no way, in my mind, that any one person could give his all to look into the lives of every single being. I believe in spirits and that the world has a spirit. This spirit is what I would say is god. As the Native Americans say, everything has a spirit. The sun, the stars and every single thing on this world.

I don't expect anyone to believe what I believe. They can if they want to, but I don't care whether or not they do. This is what I believe. I respect that other people believe other things. That's cool.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Don't Be Afraid to Get Your Paws Wet

This is the lesson that was again impressed upon me today after I had moped around Lonsdale unsuccessfully looking for a job. After a lot of lack of luck, I turned into a spiritual store - you know the type. They sell tarot cards, pendulums, incense and books about all matter of spiritual and psychic insight. There had once been a store of the same type in Vernon, where me and my mother used to go called Dreamweaver. I hadn't really been looking for a job when I went in there. Me, an apprentice in the spiritual work there? I hardly even know what my spiritual beliefs are yet, other than that they are heavily focused around my spirit guide the arctic wolf! But I got to talking with these people, these masters of the occult which is no more different than how other people go to church. I have never been to a church except for Cub meetings and funerals. I am not religious. Do not call me Christian because I am not. I don't believe in God, because I'm not sure that there is one, but I am not atheist either though I do sidle towards agnostic. Yes, there might just be a god or gods and I like to think that just like every plant has a spirit and every rock does, then the earth must have one too. If there is anything to be called 'god' in this world, then it is surely the Earth. It is here that we live and it is here that we die. Nothing more.

In any case, I spoke to these woman at the shop and they asked me what I want. I replied that I wanted a job and the old Jamaican woman said something along the lines of "But what type? You have to be more specific for your spirits if you want them to give you something you like! Understand it's the Law of Attraction working here! Don't be afraid of using it; you deal too much in the negative side of it, use it for good!"

Yes, I'll admit it as I admitted it there. I'm kind of afraid of the Law of Attraction because if there's anything I really believe in in this world, it's that. It's scary shit because it's as real as I'm Canadian. Recently after I had just learned the Law of Attraction, we had decided to go to the hospital, I believe to visit one of my Mom's roommates who had kept her company during the surgery she had had. I had found out, somehow or other, that the hospital only allows two visitors at a time, so I spent nearly the entire car ride to see this old guy worrying about this. I'm not sure what I wanted. I wasn't very specific, but the root of what I wanted was to be able to visit this old man without trodding on hospital law. I was, as usual, thinking that I should be left behind in the van as we parked.

That's about when my Dad's window suddenly could not roll up.

Now, I know what you're thinking - it was probably jammed before or something. Well; it wasn't. It was only after I had had all that angst about the stupid rule that the window would not roll up and since we could not possibly leave the van with the window open, my Dad offered to stay behind. When I came back he could miraculously get it down.

The moral? The Law of Attraction - this shit works.

Now, as the anxious little thing that I am, I thus developed a mild phobia of this very important Law. (It's basically along the lines of 'ask and ye shall receive' for biblical people.) But now I'm reminded as my Mom has reminded me so many times - use the Law of Attraction. USE IT. It will work. Don't let any doubts cloud your mind and ask the spirits or whatever it is you pray to for help... that's what I was reminded of by the ladies. Feeling weirdly like I had just gotten run over or winded (possibly because I've been inside all week for the most part) I left feeling like a wreck, determined to ask the spirits for help in finding a job. There's a lot at stake with this. If I don't find a job, I can't stay in Vancouver and I'll have to go home back to the Okanagan, where my mother will annoy the living daylights out of me until I do something. She'll make my life at home a living hell. I don't fault her for it. She does it because she cares - she creates incentive for me to get my scrawny little ass in gear.

So I went back towards Capilano, but I knew that if I went home to my room I would accomplish nothing. This thing I'm typing on right now? My laptop? Lappy286 named for Strongbad's computer? Yeah. MOST DISTRACTING THING IN THE UNIVERSE. Especially when you're trying to appeal to ghosties which may or many not exist. Y'never know. I like to think they do and I've felt a lot of personal proof that they do, particularly from Wolf (who completely hated it when I tried to dye my hair dark brown instead accidentally dying it red - he said it made me look like a fox when I'm supposed to be a wolf. Ironically, a year later he calls me Grey Fox because the red's fading now, giving me back my natural very greyish ash blonde hair colour. He doesn't want me to ever dye it again. For now I'm inclined to listen.) and a few times I've felt that I might have some sort of horse totem. (The Horse is my zodiac sign as well.)

Anyway, after I veered away from home, I decided to give my head to Wolf and let him decide where we should go. Now, for those potential perverts in the audience (if I have an audience at all) I'm referring to something in Equestrianism and horse racing when you give a horse their head which means you let the horse judge how fast and where you both go. So, Wolf chose the way. I can't describe how I knew where he wanted me to go. I think it's mainly intuition. Wolves love to wander in any case, so Wolf led me on a meandering path through the forest where I had never been, starting from Inner River Park. We got to a place called Hastings Creek and walked in. Here there was a little elbow bridge and two arms of a babbling brook. After some wandering around, I went and crouched on one of the slippery green rocks in the creek there.

Creeks have a magic quality to them. My mind, which typically works at the speed of light unless I'm really concentrating, like now, is generally very distractable. I mean, at any given point I can suddenly change thought pattern without warning. People who know me, who have let me rant, are sometimes left completely blindsided by this little quirk of mine. I'm like a hound dog with two many scents to follow, but get me on a thread that I'm really passionate about and I just seriously do not shut up. End game. No more conversation - it's just me going "blahblahblahblahblah" and usually about Rimer. Rimer's my favourite topic of any conversation. I'd probably blow most people's minds with how intensely obsessed I am. Ah, but creeks! The creek quieted my mind and I was able to have my quiet little spiritual moment. It filled up the extra train of thought I always have running, quieting my hyperactive mind. I just sat there, getting a bit of a pain in the leg by the way I was crouching and feeling sleepy, thinking about what sort of job I wanted. Well, I learned what kind:

I want a job where there is a flow of information between me and other people - a job where I can learn and have fun. To inspire me to greater heights. That's the type of magical job I want. (Haha I like the word 'magical' but really I just want a fun job, like working at an outdoor equipment store or something!)

After I had this epiphany, which wasn't much of one because I believe I already knew it, I just needed to allow my brain to sort it out, I felt that it was time to go, to carry on. I looked across the creek and feeling that Wolf wanted me to go across and since there were plenty of rocks, the wanker made me go across it on foot.

Well, here's where he reaffirmed the lesson he keeps trying to drill into my head of don't be afraid to get your paws wet; I slipped and my shod foot went in the water. But the water was warm! I was amazed; it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be, so I put both feet in the water and splashed across. Wolves don't use rocks anyway! There I realized my direction was a dead end and I turned around, splashing back across. I started hiking, thinking this lesson over as I went and the meanings of it - in life, we must not be afraid to get our paws wet. Chances are, the water's not as bad as you think it is. Don't make mountains out of molehills. Just do it - step in. It might be freezing cold, but y'never know - maybe there's a tasty fish waiting for you if you work for it.

As I started hiking again, my head sort of aching, I almost turned back, then thought of something else and that is that when you go hiking, you usually always feel kind of bad at the start if you are unprepared, but within a few minutes, once you really get into it and forget to be a human with a hella stressful life, that headache goes clean away. So I sucked it up and I kept hiking, letting Wolf tell me where to go. Letting myself just be a bystander to my own life was weird, but there's a good thing about being a long time hiker. You can fully and absolutely trust your feet. They know what to do in pretty much every situation imaginable. It's like typing once you're really good at it - you don't think about it, you just do it. I haven't the slightest idea of what my hands are doing right now as I type, even though I use what some people call the 'chicken peck' tactic to type which is where you search out every key then hit it. But I don't look at the keyboard at all because my fingers absolutely know what they are doing. They've been doing this so long, typing my manuscripts that this is just old hat to them, like a trail is old hat to my feet.

My feet and Wolf led me down a strange downhill avenue path of short little moss covered stick trees like a bridal path. It followed a sort of tube type thing for water (wow I'm so descriptive) all the way down to a river. By this time, I was kind of lost. I have no idea where I was, other than the vague notion that I was in West Lynn, which is not an area of North Vancouver which I am familiar with. At the edge of the river, surrounded by nothing but green, lush Vancouver forest, I stepped out and felt the crazy idea that Wolf wanted me to follow this sort of metal thing protecting the culvert tube that kind of dammed the river a little. Water was flowing over it just to clarify, but this thing made a tiny two foot waterfall. Wolf wanted me to cross the river just above it to where on the other side there was a cement thing. I had no idea what was over there and looking at the water, which wasn't deep but was questionable, I was not sure what to do. I wandered around on the sandbar for a good five minutes, standing on rocks and the like and I figured that if the water was lower, the river would be easily crossable. In fact, it was easily crossable as it was, but based on the logic that I had no way of knowing what it was like exactly, except that it was only about 1-2 feet deep, I elected to stay on my side of the river. There is a point where in hiking you have to stop being a wolf and become a human again.

I kind of regret not crossing that river. I wanted to, but I just didn't have the balls for it. Maybe if somebody else had been there, egging me on I would have, but it was just me and Wolf, a mortal and her spirit guide. He was asking me for bravery and he was trying to reassert his lesson of not being afraid of wet feet, of having faith, but I was nervous. Yes, I'll admit it - I'm really guilty for not crossing that river. I could have, but I didn't. I will probably keep making excuses to myself about why I did not for quite a while. I'm sure I'll have another opportunity to get my paws wet like the river and hopefully it is as safe as that, but it might not be. I'm very sorry I did not cross that damn river! In time the regret will fade. It's a small thing. I chose common sense in the end. Most sane modern humans just do not walk across rivers. But y'know, I'm pretty sure that had somebody been with me, I would of. This is another thing about humans and wolves - we're pack animals. We're always braver in a group.

So here I sit, back at home on my floor, my back to my bed and my body pillow. My lower legs are wet and itchy, for I did indeed step into the river tentatively for a bit. My thighs are warm though, warmed by my laptop as I write this and the steady tapping of the keys fills my pricked ears. Tomorrow I will continue my hunt for a job and my hunt for knowledge and hopefully, on either front, I shall come up successful. I hope so. This time I'll let Wolf guide me and you never know... it might work better. He did get me home, leading me for a loop and so he did take me for quite the run today.

I seriously had no idea where I was for a while back there!

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

I Am Wolf!

I am a wolf of the tundra, fur as white as the clouds but dusted yellow by the wind. I am a creature of the blustering cold and ice of the north, who follows in the hoof prints of the great musk ox and caribou. I am the arctic wolf, the wanderer who looks for kith and kin, loving all who come into her circle of ‘pack’ and doing wrong to none. I slip the collar of society and I laugh at it, for it is truly stupid. With teeth bared I race across the tundra, the permafrost soft and crisp under foot, under paw. My claws dug in, tearing up little bits of the moss and on and on I run, because I am Wolf and Wolf can run forever. I run because I am joyful! I am going somewhere and I am proud of it! To those who hold to society’s rules, who fearfully nose at its borders, looking out at the wind where I run with wild abandon I feel pity and I snap my teeth and snarl in defiance that I was ever that way too. To those that would collar me, bridle me, harness me up - to you I bare my fangs for I am not to be bridled or collared or harnessed! A wolf is wild and shall stay that way! Reach for me if you dare, but feel my teeth then for I will not submit even grudgingly to your authority! I am a wolf and not just a wolf, for I am a loner, a wanderer, a princess meant to one day be pack queen! To you who would run with me, whose call would wind with mine - welcome! To you I cavort, bounding in eager invitation to play and let us run together in the tracks of the caribou, past the spirit play of the aurora to cavort and prance under the roof of the world. We are beautiful! We are pack! We are wolves! Let the snow grace our pelts like the near white fox and let us dash across the fading ice flows and let us find a better place, a place where the halter of society can find us no more. Such a place would be Paradise and surely if it exists, we will find it.

Because we are wolves and we had this planet first.

And to those we left behind - we call for you! Join us! Join us in our play and find what life is really like! Pause from your day of conforming to society for there is no honour in that. Pause from your grind, your pull and howl back to us as we call to you. Perhaps then, you will find a measure of how much we miss you, because above all things, to a wolf, family always comes first. We love you.