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Here in Maine, as in other rural areas across the Northern Hemisphere, we're preparing for deer hunting season. While you may have personal objections to this activity, I have been fortunate to know many ethical and ecologically minded, spiritual people who hunted every Autumn. This submission is from one such person who also happens to be my mother! --Evelyn
My Unusual Hunting Experience
November is here and my seventeen year old grandson is excited to go deer hunting with his friend and our hunter neighbor. As he prepares, I can’t help thinking of my husband’s yearly Autumn ritual. Ed went hunting every year from the time when he was seventeen and also learned how to hunt by going with hunter neighbors. Ed listened and learned and always found the right signs where deer traveled. Every year he came home with a deer and sometimes even two when he had a doe permit. The meat was shared with his fellow hunters who weren’t so lucky and with our daughters who loved venison.
Around 1980, I got my hunting license and decided I wanted to go with him. After thirty years of listening to his stories, I wanted to try my own hand at hunting. I had no illusions of matching his knowledge or "luck." We simply set out to have a lot of fun and Ed was thrilled to have me for his hunting partner.
Autumn 1986. My new hunting outfit!
I loved being in the woods, trying to hone my skills in only a couple of days a year. Even my daughter went with us one November and was in the right place at the right time and shot herself a deer.
But, I’m getting ahead of my story. First I have to tell you how I was introduced to shamanism and so didn’t "freak out" when I saw the Indians.
Years ago, after meeting Michael Harner in New York City, my daughter decided to use her next year’s vacation for a shamanic workshop he was facilitating in upstate New York. This sounded very interesting but...wait, what was this! Who was Michael Harner and was this some kind of cult? "Mother worry" filled my head with second thoughts about this….and yet, I realized that my daughter was a very intelligent woman, with a very logical and common sense sort of mind. If this "shamanism thing" wasn’t OK, she wouldn’t be doing it. My inner voice agreed. Before she went on vacation, she gave me Michael Harner’s book, The Way of a Shaman, which explained and answered many of my questions.
Over the years, she offered me many, many books to read about shamans and shamanism. The more I read, the more comfortable I felt and wanted to learn more. After sharing her experiences, I agreed to being taught how to journey.
Later that year, hunting season came around again. That year, we hunted with Ed's friend Jim and his son Dan. We used Jim’s four wheel drive vehicle, because the initial entry road to the property was straight up. Once in on the land, it wasn’t quite so steep, but still hilly. Jim drove to the back of the property and Ed found the place he wanted to sit, and so did Jim and Dan. They picked a spot for me by a large rock, under a huge pine tree, with plenty of downed brush to hide me on two sides. I could see the clearing beyond some small trees. Jim said the deer grazed and bedded down there. They marked the road and again by the tree so I could find it in the early dawn without too much trouble. We all saw signs that deer were around. As a bonus, thanks to warmer weather, the ground was wet, so it wouldn’t be noisy walking in the woods.
We got up early and Jim's wife, Ann had a big breakfast for us, I stuffed some pretzels and a candy bar in my pocket and off we went. Driving up on the logging road, they dropped me off at my marker, making sure I had all my gear before continuing on. It was 5:30 AM and dark. With bullets in my pocket, I took my rifle, slung my folding chair over my shoulder and grabbed my rolled up blanket to head for my rock. I found the pine tree and other markers with my little flashlight and started for my spot. Once at my place, I proceeded to remove some of the top leaves, down to the mulch, with my boot, so I’d have a quiet stand. Not only is the ground wet and quiet without the loose leaves, but it created a lovely mossy aroma that helped cover my scent. I set up my chair, with folded blanket to sit on, got comfortable and loaded my rifle.
As it started to get light, I scanned the woods with my eyes – without turning my head and tried to move as little as possible.
I was sitting under a huge pine tree that had branches and brush around the back of me. The land sloped down to my right and I could see anything or anybody coming up the hill or down the logging road. The land sloped up to my left with a huge tabletop rock on my direct left, hiding me from anything coming down the hill. The area angled off to the left had a big tree. The area in front of me was brush and small trees and beyond that was the clearing about 30 to 40 feet wide. I thought this cleared grassy land might be an electrical or fire break. That area, cleared of trees, was full of tall grass and went down curving slightly further down the hill and in the opposite direction went up the hill a ways before curving to the left. I checked this area and found signs of animals having been there. The high grass was matted where the deer had bedded down.
I was comfortable and shielded from the wind. I was facing East and as the sun rose, it reached a point where it was directly in my eyes coming from between the trees and it was difficult to see but the sun was wonderfully warm. This was the most comfortable and beautiful place and I enjoyed being alone with nature--something I hadn’t remembered about myself until I went hunting with Ed.
My mind wandered, thinking all sorts of things, but staying alert to any movement. Squirrels were busy scurrying around working and gathering food. Birds were flying around and some of the small ones would perch nearby. I could hear the woodpeckers in the trees. I loved when the wind entered the forest and you would hear it first moving the trees far away and then hear it come closer until it reached you. (It reminded me of rain storms on the water. When you're in a boat, you can watch a wall of rain approach you like a curtain--closer and closer, until it reaches you.) Every sound and every movement was magnified in the silent stillness of the woods.
Around 11:30 A.M., Jim trudged through the silence with a sandwich for me and said no one had seen anything. I wondered what the deer would think of smelling a ham, cheese and mustard sandwich, but I thought it tasted good. I ate quietly and watched for any movement. Saw nothing but the little critters.
A few hours later, Jim came down the hill through the woods on my left and brought me another sandwich. He told me Ed had shot a deer and his son was helping him track and drag it, but he hadn’t seen any deer, himself. He said he would be heading back over the ridge, hoping to chase some deer my way. I thanked him.
I settled down again and ate my sandwich. The warmth of the sun and quiet of the woods was so enjoyable. Admiring my surroundings, I was glad to be there. The warm weather had left the woods with some autumn colors and the sun made them bright to the contrast of the green pine trees. The movement of the sun kept changing the colors and the shadows.
I watched the trail and woods and brush for signs of movement when all of a sudden a whole tribe of Native Americans came down the cleared hill to my left. They were spread out throughout the width of the grassy clearing. Some were on horseback, others were on horses pulling their goods on a sled made of sticks, while others walked with children. They came down the hill, in and around trees and over the rocks and brush.
They settled down on all the grassy area. The women set up little fires and all put down their bundles and tied their horses and sat on the grass. Others sat on nearby rocks. All very weary. Some rested while others prepared some food. Children played together in a small area. They looked at me as they passed by, but didn’t speak. I realized that I could see through them! I pinched my self, thinking that I must be dreaming!
I looked at my watch and it was 3:00 PM. Then I closed my eyes thinking they wouldn’t be there when I opened them again, but they were. I said “Hey! What are you doing? You can’t stop here – you’ll chase all the deer away.” A few came and sat by me. Directly in front of me and a little to the right was a small tree and rock creating a small oval area which was cleared. Some Indians sat in that area and others sat around me. One old woman with a blanket around her shoulders looked at me and sat right in front of me. Some of the other people looked elderly and weren’t all Indians, but they kept coming and standing around me. I got the feeling some of the other elders were my ancestors.
With an amazed look on my face I told them they couldn't stay here and asked what they were doing here. I said, “I want to shoot a deer and you are chasing all of them away.”
Now, understand I didn’t actually speak out loud and they didn’t either, but somehow we could "hear" each other. It was "mind talk."
The old Indian woman said, “Women don’t shoot deer, we prepare it...women have babies, fix food, farm, don’t hunt meat. Men hunt.” The others in the circle didn’t say anything. The rest of the tribe were settled in and fixing something to eat. This must have been a rest and eat stop. The others didn’t talk but just nodded in agreement with her. I kept arguing with them and said “Today’s women do all sorts of things including hunting and fishing. It’s perfectly fine for me to hunt deer. We eat the deer we shoot. I am a good shot and careful in the woods and love being in the woods. And anyway, you let my daughter shoot a deer a couple of years ago. Come on – it’s hard enough trying to shoot a deer without you scaring them. There must be another reason why you don’t want me to get a deer.” The old woman and I argued back and forth and then she said, “You shoot a deer and you won’t come back into the woods.”
Well! They had read my thoughts earlier in the day. With Eddie not feeling well, having breathing problems and trouble walking in the woods, I too, thought this might be our last hunting trip. I had thought of saying I didn’t want to go any more, but I knew how much he loved hunting and decided we would go as long as he was able.
I argued that I would try to keep going into the woods hunting even if I did get a deer. I told them I would always try to find quiet times in the woods. But, please don’t chase the deer. I’d at least like to be able to get one. I would not stop hunting as long as Ed could hunt. I also promised I would walk in the woods in the future. The elder natives talked among themselves and I kept arguing my side. The people around me seemed to be siding with me and nodded approval of me and soon the elders stopped arguing.
Now, all this time the rest of the tribe ate their food, the children ran around and they packed up their little belongings, put out their fires, packed up and slowly walked away. Slowly, continuing down the trail past the logging road until they were past the clearing to where the woods were thick again and they disappeared. Again, checking I wasn’t dreaming, I stood up. The group around me also stood up getting ready to leave.
The elder Indian woman stood up and picking up her things, gave me a friendly half smile, as I again promised to get out into nature. The other elders around me nodded, turned and they all slowly walked away, never looking back vanishing among the trees.
I still stood staring at the places where they were and wondered what had just happened to me and why. I hadn’t slept, I didn’t dream this, it actually happened. A tribe of people had come before me. I could see them, I talked to them, I could see right through them, but they were there and I had argued with an old woman who was their medicine woman.
I just sat back and enjoyed the rest of my time sitting in the woods. I knew there would be no deer coming by today. So I just told myself to enjoy this beautiful day and keep thinking about my experience.
Finally it was getting late and the men came and picked me up. The men had helped Ed put his deer in the truck.
After taking the deer home, we were back in the woods the following weekend. Ed walked into the woods with Lou and went down towards the field. I found a good place and scrapped the leaves away before sitting down.
Everything was quiet and I was enjoying the woods. I watched where I was told and suddenly saw movement. What happens when you catch sight of a deer is your heart starts beating so fast that you tell yourself to calm down and take a deep breath. You get the deer in your sight, hold your breath and squeeze the trigger.
The deer dropped and a series of thoughts came in rapid succession. "Now, remember what you were told, stay calm, don’t rush over, but get a landmark where it fell. I did it! I got a deer!" My emotions ran back and forth between sad and happy, all at the same time. I ran over all the steps in my mind. "Touch the deer with your rifle to check if its dead. OK. Now drag it back to Eddie."
I attached a rope to the front feet and head, and with the rifle over my shoulder, lifted the deer up to drag it out of the November woods. But first, I looked around and said thank you to the Spirits – whereever they were. I knew they heard me.
I dragged the deer to the logging road and headed toward Ed. I met him before the clearing. He was clearly proud of me as he happily shouted to the other men. When we brought my deer home, everyone was excited.
Here I am with my deer in 1991.
That Thanksgiving at Evelyn and Allie's apartment in Centerport, while we cleaned dishes in the kitchen, I told them about my experience. I never did tell Ed about the Indians. After that season, we only went hunting for four more years.
In October 1999, I drove alone to Maine to attend one of my daughter’s book signing events. Later still, I participated in a couple of shamanic workshops and, eventually Evelyn and Allie's apprenticeship and graduate programs.
During a workshop in Maine, I found myself in the woods once more. In a shamanic journey, I met the Medicine Woman again. She shared some wonderful wisdom with me and before we parted, I remembered to thank her for my deer.
© 2008 Agnes Blyseth Rysdyk
This is an excerpt from Agnes' unpublished book about her hunting experiences. (I can't help thinking my Dad would be thrilled to read this. - Evelyn)
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Nancy Jane Clark offers a glimpse into her profound spiritual journey with a faithful dog named Ebony. - Editors.
Lessons and Gifts
When we embark on our spiritual journey we often are cast into a very dark and lonely period of questioning. This time is often referred to as “the dark night of the soul." It is a period of being willing to die so you can be reborn to travel the pathway your soul was meant to walk in this life time. It is a time of many questions about the bigger picture and facing the suffering of seeing oneself in the eyes of the greater power of the universe.
This is a period of time I will never forget for it seemed like eternity when I was there. Day after day I would crawl out of bed, place my feet on the floor and pray I could make it through the day filled with work and people. When 3PM came I would quickly leave through the back door, enter the protection of my car and wipe tears away all the way back to my safest place, home.
It was there I could just give into the emotions that were flowing through my body. On the floor of my second story spare room I would lie for hours asking for help. This was an extraordinarily difficult time in the darkness but I was never alone. It was during this time that I found the unconditional love of a companion, my elder dog Ebony. Hour by hour she would stay by my side offering her warmth and presence, asking nothing in return.
The gift she gave me at this time was not expected for Ebony was not always a giving dog. From the moment she came into my life she let me know it would be her way for she clearly picked me, rather than my picking her. This dog took over the prime spot on my bed, couch or anywhere she wished. She was given her very own lawn chair, complete with a towel, on the dock otherwise I would not have been able to enjoy mine. If something did not go her way she voiced it loud and clear -- to the point of being very annoying. I often referred to her as a drama queen for she displayed emotions like a spoiled child. She snubbed me on the rides home from obedience classes, cried on my shoulder when my relationship came to an end, and talked a blue streak when she wanted to be noticed -- especially when I would be on the phone.
I would never have guessed that in her elder years she would provide me with the only comfort in the darkest time of my life. As I moved through that time I began to unwind the tapestry that others had helped create of my life. From the pile of threads, I began the wondrous task of weaving the true self I was always meant to be. I began to feel the presence of the powers of the kind and loving spirits that support us on this earth plane. No longer did I spend hours lying on that cold wooden floor in my house with the only warmth being that of my furry companion. However, for Ebony her giving was not over.
As this time passed so did Ebony’s youthfulness. As she entered the last days of her life, we began to spend time together working with different shamanic healings practices to ease her discomforts. Although her eyes were still cheerful and bright, the signs of her declining health became more present.
Early one morning she came to me and in her eyes she clearly asked me to let her go gracefully into her next life. In one of the most difficult phone calls anyone can make, I set the time for her leaving. Graceful and peaceful she was laid to rest with me lying next to her.
To ease my feelings, that afternoon I took a walk. I began talking to Spirit and asked to be provided with a sign that would let me know Ebony had crossed, which would ensure her soul was also at rest. Continuing on my walk I noticed a black bird fly above me and come to rest on the wires. It began squawking and talking nosily to me.
I laughed, look up, and asked it if this was my sign: a noisy black bird that demanded my attention, how fitting. But being stubborn, I denied this bird as my sign and asked instead for the sign in the form of a butterfly. It seemed a fitting sign to me for butterflies are all about transformation.
One week passed and I had not seen a butterfly. I knelt before my altar with head hung low and tears in my eyes. How could I have been so selfish, denying a sign that was given to me and bold enough to ask for one I wanted? I asked for forgiveness and accepted the black bird as my sign.
Certainly the message I had asked for came to me quickly in a form that I could see clearly as Ebony’s spirit. I felt a comfort knowing she had crossed and was at peace. The lesson I had learned from this was humbling, but i still had another lesson and a gift, to come.
That afternoon, as I sat on my deck, a butterfly came and landed on the railing. I gasped; it was a beautiful monarch! It then flew into the air, circled and landed on my lap. It stayed there for a time moving its wings and walking slowly around. I had been heard, for the sign I had asked for arrived.
As I looked back on this, I realized that by asking for forgiveness and accepting the sign that was first presented to me, I was given the one I requested. We are able to manifest signs and other creations in this world, but it is always a co-creation with Spirit being at the helm. A lesson well taught and well remembered.
But the gift given was greater than anything I could ever receive again in my life time. Ebony had given herself to me in my darkest time when I felt so alone and lost on this earth. What her passing and the two signs gave me were the knowledge that we are truly never alone on this earth. We always have our guides, power animals, fairy friends, guardian angels, divine beings, and our Great Spirit of the Universe beside us each breath of our lives. Carl Jung was once asked if he believed in God. He replied, "No, I know God." To experience this for oneself is the greatest gift I could have ever imagined and all because one black, noisy dog.
Love, whether from a person or animal, is a healing force that cannot be denied. Over the years, we have heard many stories from people who made it through utterly black times in their lives because of a loving presence. It didn't matter if it was a grandparent, a horse, a dog or a cat--what made the difference was that that they felt loved.
Remember to express your love to someone this month and allow yourself to be loved in return! - Editors.
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Got handy tips, observations, stories and photos that you'd like to share? Send them to us at: editors@spiritliving.org.
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