The theme of Alaska Wellness this issue reminds
us that gifts of spirit are everywhere. Some are big and loud and
blatant; others are quiet, magical, more subtle to discern. And
sometimes they come together.
Our neighbor Carl tells off-color jokes, refers
to himself as the Old Fart, and you don't even want to know what
happens when he eats his famous bean chili - or ask, because he'll
tell you. On the upside, Carl is dependable, a good singer,
knowledgeable about airplanes, horses, Robert Service poems and the
many uses of duct tape, and always willing to help.
One day at my computer, busily working on this
issue of Alaska Wellness, Carl called to tell me I should get right
over because magic was afoot. With a well-worn, skeptical sigh, I
grabbed my jacket and scarf, walked across the road and followed Carl
into his backyard.
Leading me over to the birch tree, he asked,
"Do you see it?" It took my eyes a few seconds to scan the
ground and notice the unusual movement - there, a few inches above the
grass, a leaf danced in the air. Pirouetting in lazy circles, its stem
delicately dipped down to touch the earth and then leaped upward, as
if propelling itself into the air. Spinning and twisting, twirling
above the ground, skittering across the tops of grass blades, the leaf
bedazzled us.
"Did you know I'm an unauthorized
shaman?" Carl asked with a gleam in his eye. Shuffling close to
the leaf, though careful not to touch it, he whooshed his hands and
body outward toward the leaf. "Go to the tree, Leaf!" Carl
commanded. "You need to be grounded!" The obedient leaf
frolicked toward the tree trunk. Moving to the other side of the leaf,
Carl moved his arms and body similarly outward with a whoosh of air.
"Now move yourself to the flower beds, Leaf. You are like my
neighbor. You need to take more frequent breaks and remember the
sweetness of life." I snorted a laugh, but the leaf obeyed.
For quite some time, Carl and I stood together,
entranced by the leaf. We watched it ride the small, autumnal gusts of
wind - moving up, fluttering low, pivoting, swinging, gyrating around
and around like a crazy ballerina. At one point it came so close I
could see the thin yet mighty spider's line that attached it to one of
the long tree branches above.
Still, it was a good trick. I couldn't stop
smiling. Neither could Carl. Under the damp, fall sky, the
unauthorized shaman and I were happy and amused, brought together for
a few moments of mutual delight, charmed by a leaf that danced - a
lighthearted and touching gift of spirit.
Dawn Baumann Brunke is the
editor of Alaska Wellness and the author of Animal Voices,
Shapeshifting with Our Animal Companions, and the newly released Animal
Voices, Animal Guides. See www.animalvoices.net
for more.
