Friday, February 10, 2006
Among my many friends who are dedicated to the love and care of animals, Stephanie Marohn stands out as one of the most committed. Providing for the well being of her animal companions (as well as that of all the animals of the planet) is her primary life purpose. A professional writer/editor, she also maintains her own animal sanctuary, where she tends various farm creatures she has welcomed into her band through the years. These delightful inhabitants of the Sanctuary (including sheep, a horse, and a donkey) may be viewed through her website, www.stephaniemarohn.com, where you will find links to her Animal Messenger Sanctuary page.
Stephanie is convinced that animals coming to earth at this time have a special purpose, to help humanity in this moment of great global crisis. She is currently writing a novel describing this vision. Stephanie collects the wool from the sheep, and from this wool she makes lovely soft comforters. When I felt one of these amazing comforters, I could literally sense the gentle sweet vibrations of Chloe, who had supplied the wool. The friend who bought it loves it and says she feels nurtured and cherished when she sleeps under it.
Stephanie is indeed an animal shaman, one who has a mystical connection with and understanding of those creatures with whom we share our planet. The following autobiographical account describes the beginnings of her mystical calling.
Pearls of the Swine
A story about an Animal Messenger
When I was four, my parents were teaching at a Quaker boarding school that was also a working farm. While my mother was in class, I wandered around the campus. All the adults knew each other’s children and looked out for them, so I enjoyed a certain degree of freedom even at that age. Near the barn on campus was a pigpen, a large jungly pasture of gnarled trees and high grasses. The grass hid the pigs from view, so one day I climbed over the fence. The pigs had worn paths through the undergrowth and it was a thrill to be all alone in there, in the dimness of the shaded paths, shielded from the outside world. I walked the maze of paths in hopes of meeting one of the huge pigs. When one finally came snuffling and snorting along the path toward me, I wasn’t at all afraid though she was gigantic to a child of my size. She stopped, and we stood still, looking into each other’s eyes for what seemed a long, long time. I felt myself flow into the pig and felt her flow into me. Then I was back in my own body, meeting the pig’s deep and wise gaze. She stayed a moment longer, then turned around and trotted away down the path.
I was elated by this encounter; not by my bravery in facing the pig (I took that for granted and didn’t even think about it), but by what my adult self now terms the transcendent connection I experienced between us. After that, I visited the pigs whenever I could. I kept silent about these visits, knowing that this was probably not condoned behavior. Unfortunately, a whiny brat who didn’t abide by the children’s code of honor saw me go in one day and told on me. My mother declared the pigpen off-limits. Ordinarily, I would have been scared to disregard a parental taboo, but transcendence in the pigpen was too strong a draw. Already a mystical junkie, I kept returning in hopes of more amazing encounters, but as so often happens, the luminous quality of the first was not repeated, though a calm communion took its place.
The pigpen transcendence story now serves as an immediate reminder to me that I am always walking the path of the sacred, regardless of where I am and in what muck I find myself, and that the sacred is all around me.
© 2005, Stephanie Marohn, all rights reserved.