||Who is the Animal Shaman?
"Animal Shaman" refers to the collective beings, in body and Spirit, who guide and teach me, and (in small part) myself. Without their help, I'm ordinary Karen Craft, mild-mannered Midwesterner who pretty much blends in with everyone else. But when I'm in touch with my Creature Teachers, as Seneca Grandmother Twylah calls them, Spirit guides and Angels, I have access to information to help myself and others in healing body and spirit; in learning about ourselves; and in understanding the world(s) around us. Part of my life purpose is to serve as a spokesperson for so-called Non-Ordinary Reality.
Believe me when I explain that it took a lot of experience before I could acknowledge the concept of non-ordinary reality and the fact that work done in that space can have a direct impact on the "real world." As usual, animals were and are my teachers.
My own animal companions help me learn important truths about alternate realities. The first lesson came several years ago from our beautiful blue-eyed, white Siberian Husky, The Snow Angel. Gradually over a space of months, Angel's behavior had begun to change. She wanted to spend more and more of her time in our backyard instead of being with us in the house. My husband, David, and I noticed that it had gotten to the point that Angel would come inside to bolt down her supper, then rush to the backdoor again. We were puzzled that our friendly girl was shunning our company, although she'd greet us happily enough when we spent time with her outside. One late afternoon, drenching rain was falling in sheets over our yard and there stood sopping Angel, pathetically peering in the kitchen window, blinking the water out of her eyes. But when I went to the door to call her, she refused to move.
David's patience gave out at this point. "You're supposed to be an animal communicator! Talk to her and find out what's going on!" True, I'd taken just about every class available to train communicators, but I was nervous about putting myself to the test with Angel. I mumbled some excuse and turned away so I wouldn't have to see that forlorn husky face at the window.
A couple of nights later, I was in a mellow mood and decided to make time for a deep meditation. As I settled in, I could feel the presence of my guardian angel, Sarah. I cast my thoughts east to Spring Farm, home of my Master Teachers and connected with Sonya Pia, the orange cat who had recruited me (see Communicating from the Heart) as an animal communicator/healer. As always, she didn't mince words, saying, "Why don't you talk with your own animals?!" Well yes, there is the Snow Angel problem. So I turned my attention to her and said, "Why don't you want to come into the house, Angel?" Her immediate reply was, "I'm guarding the yard from raccoons." She let me feel a blast of her utter disgust for them. But then, her telepathic voice dropped to a low mutter, "And I wish you'd quit inviting raccoon spirits into the house."
I reeled in surprise, but instantly knew what she was talking about. Long before I began opening to concepts that are now solid pieces of my understanding, I had a habit of saying a blessing over roadkilled animals I'd pass on the highway. Then, when I requested a telephone consultation with communicator Susan Marino, the first thing she exclaimed was, "Wow! Your house is filled with animal spirits! Hundreds of them!" I'd pondered why our house would have so many animal spirits when it hit me that they must be the spirits of all those poor roadkills. In her book, Natural Healing for Dogs and Cats, Diane Stein confirmed my suspicions. She warns that when you bless roadkill, you need to be careful to ask the animal's spirit to go with the light or else it will follow you home.
And now, here was Angel dispelling any doubts I'd had about the existence of these spirits; I'd blessed plenty of raccoons in past years.
Again feeling the presence of angel Sarah, I asked her to please gather up the raccoon spirits and any others troubling to our living animal family and take them into the light. I had a vision of her using a broom and literally sweeping every corner of our home. I saw a huge, fat raccoon sailing blissfully upward in a beam of white light. As she finished her task, I fortunately had the presence of mind to thank Sarah and I watched her recede into the light, a baby raccoon cradled in her arms.
Coming out of meditation, my first thought was, "Boy, do I have an imagination!" But what the heck, I'd go see how Angel was doing. When I opened the backdoor, Angel was dancing on the back step, wearing a huge grin. My jaw dropped as she trotted past me into the house. In the following days, David and I commented over and over how wonderful it was to have her back to her cheerful self; we hadn't truly realized how strange her behavior had become until she popped back to normal and we could appreciate the contrast. Any time I feel doubt start to creep into my spiritual life, I have only to contemplate Angel's Lesson.