In the recent documentary film “The Horse Boy,” the parents of an autistic boy bring him from their home in Texas to Mongolia. The boy connects to animals in a special way. They hope the nomadic shamans will be able to help their son. A gathering of shamans who undertake a healing all agree, the spirit of a woman on the mother’s side is clinging to the boy and harming him. After a long journey on horseback they meet a shaman of the reindeer people who may be the healer they seek. I won’t give away the ending.
I have not yet carried out all the instructions given to me by Beatrice, the shaman, indeed very few. Lately, my family has required much of my time. But I have tried to connect with nature. This is a pleasure because of the extended and colorful autumn we are having this year.
Today I rode my bike to Quaker meeting partly through the woods that adjoin the property. I don’t ride very fast, a runner on foot passed me, but I can do it. Yellow and red leaves were glowing in the morning sun. On one stretch, there were enormous tulip poplars by the trail.
On the way home I stopped by one of the giants and maneuvered myself as close as I could and put my arms around the trunk. Beatrice told me I could benefit from the strength of trees. It was a nice feeling. I have hugged some trees in my garden, but they’re not very big ones. I admit it -- I even kiss them. That was my idea. It’s hard to resist if you’re hugging anyway.
Of course I don’t do this when anyone’s looking, though I really don’t know what I should be ashamed of. To be called a tree hugger? Well I am, most literally.
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