As
a child, one of my favorite books was Charlotte’s
Web by E. B. White. I especially loved Charlotte, a quick-witted
gray spider, who spun words into her web in an attempt to save her
friend Wilbur the pig from an untimely death. “Some pig!” boldly
exclaimed the words in Charlotte’s web. “Radiant” and
“Humble” were other adjectives Charlotte used to describe Wilbur.
Most of the farmers and townspeople believed the words were miracles,
supernaturally inspired messages that could not be explained. They
looked to the pig, certain that he was the one behind the mystery.
Charlotte smiled, delighted that her trick had worked.
As Charlotte later explained to Wilbur, spiders have been weaving webs
for generation upon generation. “I don’t know how the first spider
in the early days of the world happened to think up this fancy idea of
spinning a web, but she did, and it was clever of her, too,” said
Charlotte. I thought it was equally clever of Charlotte to be a spider
who understood how words could so greatly influence humans.
There are some who believe that spiders spin webs not merely from
instinct, but are graced with the collective memory of all spiders who
have ever spun webs since that first spider in the early days. As more
spiders spin webs, the idea goes, it becomes easier for all spiders to
create webs. Webs are spun with less effort and the potential for
greater intricacy.
Some believe that human evolution follows a similar path. As a new
talent is discovered by one individual, others may simultaneously or
soon thereafter find the talent within themselves. As more individuals
engage in the new behavior, it becomes easier for others to
participate. Call it the hundredth monkey, the hundredth spider or
even the hundredth human; it is all variation of the same pattern in
the grand Web.
The Web of Life reminds us that every thought and action affects
everyone and everything. An idea comes to one of us and a thread on
the invisible web quivers as circumstances conspire to bring events,
ideas, people, animals and countless other forms of assistance into
our lives.
Although this book began with a simple interest in animal
communication, it has proved to be a widespread collaboration. Over
two dozen communicators and 100 animals have shared their energy,
wisdom, humor and blessings for the completed work to unfold.
Just as the barnyard animals brought Charlotte word suggestions to
display on her web, just as E. B. White collaborated with the subtle
energy of a wonderful gray spider he called Charlotte, we are all,
consciously or unconsciously, working together to create something
quite spectacular, something that propels us into a new creation of
Being.
How do we begin our journey? All too often,
it is not where we are going but what we find along the way that holds
the key to our true adventure. It is frequently the diversions and
strange circumstances that lead us to the most extraordinary places --
heart-felt, humorous, amazing, sometimes barely believable…
In 1995, my husband and I moved to Alaska. We had no definite plans,
neither one of us had jobs, but away we went, toting our young
daughter, two dogs and a 20-foot trailer. Not long after arriving, I
picked up a copy of Alaska
Wellness, a magazine focused on alternative healing and the
connection of mind, body and spirit. A tiny notice in the back
advertised for an Editor. Though I had never done any professional
editing, I applied and, surprising to me, was hired.
One of my first duties involved sorting through a box of articles not
yet published. One in particular caught my eye. It was written by
Chrys Long-Ago, a woman who claimed to talk with animals. Not only
that, the animals talked back to her!
I was fascinated by the story, which detailed Chrys’
conversations with a guinea pig named Geisha.
When I later interviewed Chrys, she told me about J. Allen Boone, a
writer whose primary teacher in animal communication had been an
award-winning German shepherd war dog and filmstar named Strongheart.
I found two of Boone’s books and read them with a growing sense of
wonder, amazement and deep respect.
Questions about human-animal communication filled my brain. Was it
really possible to have an intelligent conversation with an animal?
Did animals truly have a capacity to understand the world beyond
themselves? Did they have a sense of spirituality? Did they know
something we didn’t? What would animals tell us, both about
themselves and about us, if we approached them with serious intent?
Was a deeper, more vital relationship between humans and animals –
and all of life – something we had forgotten about, something we had
left behind in the course of our evolution?
Through the Internet, I found Buddy,
a horse who works with communicator Carole Devereux. Buddy was the
first animal who agreed to an interview with me. It was a curious
set-up: I posed my questions to Carole, who connected with Buddy,
asked my questions, wrote down his responses, and read them back to
me. A part of me couldn’t help but wonder if the whole thing
wasn’t one quick step away from farce, though another part of me was
exhilarated, feeling as if I had just entered a new world. Carole put
me in touch with other animals and communicators, who gave me more
names, and so the connections began.
It soon became apparent that what I was involved in was something much
greater than myself. As I thought about it, meditated on it, dreamed
about it, I realized with growing surprise that not only was this
something I had chosen; it was something that had also chosen me.
Ask for something with the deepest part of your being and the Universe
responds. This is a thrilling realization, though you often discover
that the Universe may respond in a way that is not exactly in line
with what you had in mind.
My central focus had been asking communicators to be the medium
through which animals might answer the basic question, “What would
you most like humans to know?” It was all going quite well until Marta
Williams, a communicator I had been interviewing over the phone,
stopped me short. “If you’re going to write a book about this,
maybe you should try it too,” Marta suggested gently. A deep sense
of unease shuddered through me. Surely I would not be asked to do that!
It was one thing to interview animals through professional
communicators, but certainly such a thing would never happen to me!
A few weeks later, I experienced my first direct communication with a
flock of birds. It was an exceptional event for me, one that changed
the focus of this book dramatically and brought me to a deeper place
of understanding how this thing called animal communication really
works.
From my initial opening with the birds, there was no stopping the flow
of communications I received, though I sometimes considered trying.
Most often it happened spontaneously, when I was least expecting it.
Deeper and deeper the process unfolds. Are we ever really in control?
I no longer believe that I was the one who had the idea to write this
book. On other levels, there was mystery afoot, and the plan was
presented to me through a series of challenges. Was I willing to let
go of an old worldview in order to learn something new? Was I ready to
begin living with a sense of wonder? Was I willing to trust my
experiences as so many others seemed to trust me?
My heart has been touched by all who speak in this book as well as by
those who have offered feedback, help and support. It reminds me of
the web, of Charlotte, and how all manner of extraordinary events
conspire to create a world in which a pig and spider can become best
of friends. Are we ready to see that we, too, are capable of creating
such a world? As so many animals remind us time and again, we are all
more intimately connected than we can imagine. Perhaps more than
anything, this book is about trusting that connection, trusting the
flow of life as we open to and feel the deeper union between each one
of us and All That Is.
A special group of animals once remarked, “It is essential that
humans begin to awaken to their connection with all of life. As you
open to animals, you will also open deeper to yourselves. This is one
of the roots of your return home.”
May we open to this journey. May we trust ourselves and the unfolding
of our paths just a little bit more. And may we all remember,
ourselves and each other, human and animal alike, within the sacred
web of life.