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Night of Grief and Mystery |
Several days after the concert, I was honoured to welcome about 40 folks to the Flying Moon Farm near Carleton Place, a small town lying west of Canada’s capital city of Ottawa. The farm is owned by Christina Turner and home to the Courage Herd, a unique herd of horses, a donkey, and several sheep who were rescued by Tina and who work with her in providing valuable, therapeutic lessons in boundary-setting, leadership, overcoming fear and helping with self-confidence. Tina is a leadership consultant of international reputation and experience but it is her sensitivity to the animals and to the land and the natural elements that impresses me the most. Before the storytelling, we venture into the woods where she introduces me to Grandmother Oak and her family. Around this magnificent tree crowd young cedars and Tina chooses one of them, speaking softly and reverently before asking for a few clippings of its tender shoots, which she wants to use to make cedar water. In exchange, she asks me to offer a story. I thank the cedar and Grandmother Oak and share my story which I call “Basket of Stories” about the importance of listening and immersing yourself in the “river of voices” — all voices, human and non-human alike.
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Flying Moon Farm, home of the Courage Herd |
Tina has helped me feel re-connected to something much bigger than myself. It’s something that I felt earlier in the summer while house-sitting for friends at their home in the country. Again, it was the surrounding forest, trees looming over me, protecting me, that made me feel a part of something divine and elemental. I recall feeling this connection when I was a child playing in the fields behind my house. Everything I value now was, I believe, learned in those fields. And here on the Flying Moon Farm, it comes back to me. Even as my “midnight” approaches, I feel alive.
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Whisper and Michael |
After the storytelling, we break for a pot-luck dinner. People have brought lots of food and drink to share. We meet the newest neighbours on the road. The next-door neighbours have only been here two months, having immigrated — in their 60s — from Switzerland to be nearer their children. I meet some of Tina’s relatives, her daughter, and many of their friends. Children run about enjoying the lovely warm evening, the animals, and the fresh air.
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Telling tales around the fire |
This time, I share much older stories, stories of creation, Coyote stories, stories of how the stars came to be. Just as I finish a story about the Big Dipper constellation, someone exclaims, “There it is.” I turn and there’s the Big Dipper just rising above my right shoulder. This leads me to ask who knows of other constellations and their stories. Someone mentions Orion the Hunter. Then someone remarks on how living in the city, they don’t get the opportunity to see so many stars. We sit, heads tilted back to take it all in. That’s when I notice the creamy flowing of the Milky Way across the night sky. If this were the last storytelling session I ever offered, I would die happy.
As always, Sir, you are enchanting.Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteLovely tales of serendipity thanks.
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