054 - Restlessness while Relaxing: What is it like to be a dog? & The Story of the Jumping Mouse
We'll come on this new year's Eve to the last episode of a quiet voice. For 2024. My name is Collin ward. Always pull the privileged and blessed. To bring to you some insights and wisdom and even a story or two.
Too. Guide us out of what has been an amazing year for this podcast. And. Work, which you are directly supporting every time you share this podcast, every time you talk about the men's groups that, uh, and beginning in the west of Ireland and online. Every time you rate the podcast every time you comment. Every time you send me a random email out of nowhere telling me that you really enjoy it.
These things. Are the lifeblood.
Of this creative work. Which is ultimately a chronology of.
Be exploring aspects to. The inner world. This quiet voice that seems to guide me into places that my. Logical mind never would.
And help me reflect and hopefully inspire you to do the same in your life so that we can witness. Just how magical. And wonderful. Being alive is in these bodies at this time. And all of the lessons and wisdom that can be. Just beneath the surface.
If we open to it, we have traveled so far together in this year. We gees. We. We visited the largest stone circle in Ireland, the Grange stone circle. And. Had sparrows spin around us in four to CS. We dived into the wisdom that's within dreams and.
The society of the spectacle. We walked to a Cliff's edge. When I was caught thinking too much in my head and not connecting to the heart. We learned. From a spider. To slow down and take it easy and not necessarily always be forcing things. But to discover with ease and grace and explore what it means to connect to the healthy, masculine, and unplugged from these more dominator culture belief systems. That may bring us into feelings of doubt. Or fear or despair.
It's been a lesson to just open more and more to these alternative ways of being, uh, that brought me to domino and the temples of humankind in the north of Italy, which I explored in last week's episode. He hadn't listened to that episode. I recommend you go back to it. One of the most. Extremely magical places I've ever experienced.
And geez, if I can just. Capture a drop of what it means. To just be there. Put that into that episode, that. That is my gift to you.
We've learned a lot from other voices beyond myself. Jeez. Thankfully. More and more interviews to come in the new year. First, they began with my now wife, Maria. Her journey to connect plants at Newmar way skincare. Then we had Carmel Connor. With breath work and mindfulness coaching. And then we connected with a writing coach for creativity and insights around limiting beliefs and alternative narratives. Carl Ashley.
This episode is a little bit different than normal.
Maybe because. I always feel a little bit different than normal. At the end of December.
I'm in. My parents' house. And Donegall recording this podcast, taking some time away from Westport. Time with the Spanish family. And yet, even though I'm surrounded with people that I don't see very often and want to connect to or. That have a different pace of life than I do the end of December, always. Puts me into a place of waiting and resting until the new year opens up. I always get sick around this time, too. I've already been through that phase as all of the. No my way work and Ben's work kind of culminates right at the end towards Christmas.
And then you just collapse. That always is something I'm working with. But it just feels as if there's a period between the end of work right around the holidays and the beginning of the new year where I'm just, it just feels as if I'm waiting around. And even though my intention is to rest and reflect and connect and celebrate.
I find that my brain, my thoughts move at a million miles an hour.
And.
I sort of have set down my tools yet. My thinking mind just keeps going and going and going. And I find myself very reluctant to put down that thinking mind, because I wonder what am I left with? When all I have been is this thoughts and all I've been is what I can accomplish in productivity. Or in my day, how much money I can make, how much. Content I can create whatever my measure of the day being around productivity.
Now that my days are not measured by productivity. What is left for me?
And what is there to do really? It's kind of like a paradox. Well, I'm caught in many paradoxes, but this is one it's. It's a sense of. I am a man capable of creating in my world. And when I am. Not under stress or strain.
Creation is still happening. And sometimes a more so. So I, I see that. The more that I do, the more that my world changes and yet. The changes happening. Regardless of if I have any input input or not.
And it puts me into this place where frankly, my ego is just shattered. On all the pride that arises. As I reflect back on my achievements in quotation marks or my progress in quotation marks. It shatters that because I said there's a sense that comes from.
Did I really do anything at all. With all my effort worth it. It was all my stress worth it. It was my thinking mind. Was that in vain?
And then I continue to connect. Just by making this podcast into a place of, of ease where maybe I don't need to be pushing all the time to produce something or making something. Maybe I'm just. Being into. The quality. So that. The creation arises. Rather than forcing something.
But there's a lot of thoughts and there's a lot of energy that comes towards the end of the year.
So. Um, with this whiplash.
With lash. You know, There's a Charles Eisenstein quote that comes to me where he speaks about how.
We live within a paradox as we look to create this new world, a new world that. Isn't attached to old narratives of scarcity or, uh, narratives of. Well, you could call them the dominator narrative where things that are attached to war or capitalism or creation or more masculine kind of aggression. In relation to nature. That in order to create a new world, a world of, of miracle, a world of. Connection and authenticity and love and compassion that. That on one hand.
He says.
That world. Is created by all of us working as hard as we can. Towards it.
And it is an inevitability.
We need to leverage all of the skills and all of the expertise and all the gifts that we have. To create the world that we want to live in.
And that is happening already. That's the paradox that he describes.
And I feel to bring that up at this moment because. As I look into the new year and all of the possibilities and all the openness and all the. Jeez. I'm left with. A little bit of the same sensation they'd felt at the very beginning of this year. A little bit of doubt, a little bit of fear, a little bit of joy. A little bit of grief.
The grief first comes because this year has been amazing. So, so enriched with life and vitality. That. The grief comes from the sense that it is over.
The fear comes because I wonder what could possibly. How do I open myself up to more beauty, more love, more joy. In the new year. After just having this year. You know, there's always that. That sensation of like, oh, have I gotten at all? Or maybe not, maybe there's more to come. In fact, I think there is more to come. More joy, more beauty, more miracles of life. That we have to open to.
A story of fear is just that story.
But caught in this changing dynamic between the old year in the new year. What kind of place do, does all my effort work into all my thoughts? All of my logic, all of my control. When now I need to rest. Rest to prepare the body, the mind, the spirit, the emotions for the new year.
You don't go out until the soil before you. You know, Water it you've got to. Let it rest.
Reminds me. This time of year often, I'd be visiting my home. With my family and I'd always, we'd always tend to have a dog around. Unfortunately that dog. Mick. He passed away this year. That's another aspect of grief to connect with. Yet at the same time, he was always present around holidays and that.
I would look at and Mick sitting there resting on his bed. As we watched TV or watched a movie or laughed or connected or played games, he would always be there. Just resting.
Maybe he wants to go for a walk, but ultimately, you know, an older dog, just more sedentary. And alone too. No other dogs to play with, we always just had one. So I, I sometimes would look at MC. And I would pity him.
I would pity his ignorance. I would pity his animalistic. Nature, you know, Is laying around the house without thumbs or dexterity. You know, he, he had no pen or ability to write. No words to read.
No way to talk to us. And I would sometimes imagine myself as a dog.
And I would feel fear. And I would feel boredom.
And I'd feel trapped.
Of course, he becomes this blank landscape in which I would see. My own loneliness and despair in the eyes of this dog, this. This vessel.
And now that Mick's gone, I, I miss. What I connect to now is more of a loving piece of presence.
That let anybody that was with him. Connect.
Outside of whatever loneliness or despair or fear or trepidation they were feeling. He in some way, held this sort of psychic space. Where.
Whatever he was feeling was secondary to making sure that we were comforted.
It's still, I would connect this time of year with that. Sense of being trapped. If I didn't have a pen to write, if I didn't have a voice to speak, if I didn't have something to do.
What would I do?
And is there something more horrifying than the idea that there really is nothing to do?
I moved into this Irish house.
Jason a much longer story than we'll go in here today. But.
As if a wave had crashed in my life and I was just dropped. On a deserted island. January, 2018. I was confronting a similar. Despair and isolation.
A sense of pointlessness and openness to something new, but also not the strength to go out and grab it at the time.
I had no work. So my work became more on reading. Writing. And consuming everything that I could get my hands on. There was no television, no radio. So I would have no internet at that time in this house. So I could read just over and over and over again. And the wind would, how outside as it is now. And the rain would slash against the pain of the window. And the ocean would churn outside and I would pour every bit of information and idea and narrative and opinion into my head.
And my head would swell and my eyes would burn from reading. And I would take it all. Though it would leave me at the end of the day, feeling drained. Empty.
Any sense of satisfaction at finishing a book? Would not Sue my heart. But not SUSE. Uh, restlessness.
That was sort of splayed and beaten. Logic like. Lashes almost. At the end of this peninsula near my parents' house is.
A lighthouse. And this lighthouse would be a beacon. To which I would visit.
To connect with myself and just to get outside of the house a little bit.
There isn't anything, but the lighthouse out there, except there is a large limestone platform that juts out. Over.
Over the raw ocean on a high tide. On it, you can see. Different. Fossilized.
Organisms caught in the limestone, which would have been the bedrock of a great ocean at one point. Yeah. Now I would sit with my feet hanging over the edge.
Looking at the waves crash against the rock.
And at the time, so much turbulence and so much internal restlessness.
Yeah. What I was seeking to do was ground into a place that is outside of that. Thinking mind outside of all the waves and all the turbulence and all of the ideas spinning and floating and voices in my head. Connect to a place within me that was integral, but maybe not part of me.
Connect with a witnessing presence.
Presence outside of myself, outside of the person that thinks that I am who I am.
Because in that witnessing presence, if I can look. To even the predicament of myself.
I can connect with this sense of compassion. Like the presence of a tree hanging over a river.
Holds up the bank and keeps the river. From being consumed in earth.
I could connect with. A presence that could bear any sort of wave. That would crash opponent.
Who understood that? The work that I'm doing in this life is not just in this life. Not just connected to who I am. Or who I am becoming. Or what I have been.
That I am not just a part of a story. But I am an unfolding.
And in that way, there comes a certain freedom. Freedom outside of my narrative, outside of the stories that I tell myself outside of what I am becoming and who I have been to just, what is. And being in that presence. Connects me much more with. Not so much a compassion. Or a doubt. Or a beauty. But just a wholeness. And a sensation of being held. Where I am.
And in that. Cradle that holding. I am both.
Outside of myself and connected at the same time.
So this house always has a aspect of retreat to me because it reminds me of those moments. In which I was beginning to disconnect from all of those negative thoughts that I carried from my past life. I could call it.
And now here I sit, I sit. In a house that is full of my in-laws connected with a new wife and a, and a life. That I couldn't have possibly dreamed up.
As that younger man, six years ago, sitting with his feet, hanging over a limestone cliff. Looking at the waves and. Churning. Inside outside. Couldn't I couldn't have possibly dreamed up such a life.
And yet it happened.
Just in that same paradox that Charles Eisenstein speaks about the life. That we are working to become and to open to the most beautiful possibility we can create. Is ours to create and is inevitable.
So, what does new year's resolutions? What does the openness to the fertility that comes in January for a new year with just a. 2025 at the end. What does that look like? If it isn't so much something that we are forcing or creating, but something we are opening to and connecting to.
There's a quality of compassionate fertility.
That's there. That's. I don't feel so much if I'm. In that. Hustle grind going out and get it. Kind of mentality.
Rather now I'm connecting to a beauty that always was and is, and always will be. And that has been within me.
But that the story of my outside world has penetrated my inner world and corrupted the sense of wholeness that is integral to who I am and has been since birth. And we'll be when I die.
It is in that way that I think. When I feel that I start to connect to the beginning that comes at the end of death.
This great or a Boris. Snake eating its own tail. This great circle, this great journey. This. We've talked about it before the wheel of the year that begins in Southend and ends at Sao. And it's an opening is always a closing and the closing is always an opening.
So with that in mind. And as I hear the wind continue to whistle. In the window above me.
I wanted to leave you.
With some words, other than my own reflections. To give you some context. Maybe to take into your new year. A story that comes from native American culture, a story, a myth, a legend. Off the jumping mouse.
It's not very long. Takes about 10 or 15 minutes to get through, but.
I think that if you listened to this story and open to it and the wisdom that is within. The words. And outside of the words, I think. It may put you into a beautiful place. To start the new year. I know that it did for me.
But before we get into the story. I want to remind you all that there are men's groups starting in the new year, under a quiet voice men's development. , I want to direct your interest. To, uh, the website, a quiet voice dot I E, which even though it is a dot E it can be accessed anywhere in the world. , that webpage will always have a listing of what is happening in my men's development work. , I'm also going to have a page there that is dedicated to this podcast where you can access, , transcripts. , written transcripts.
I'm going to work to put all the episodes up there slowly as, as steadily as I can so that you can read and. Maybe connect to the written word, , through a quiet voice. , I'm also working to. Oh, to, to create the Spanish translation of the. Um, of the, um, Of the podcast so that other people that don't speak English or maybe speak Spanish,, might be able to. To enjoy or read, , back on these ideas and get some insight. So. There is a retreat to connect to presence.
That's going to happen on this coming Saturday, the fourth. Um, it's an all day retreat. Um, I'm going to bring the ideas and elements from that retreat to an online workshop. So keep your ear to the ground for that. Um, there's also men's groups always enrolling starts. Um, that I'm looking to start in the month of February. , that meet online for 12 weeks.
So keep your eyes on a quiet voice. Stop. E for any upcoming news. And. Always, if you want it to follow along more closely, there is a Instagram called a quiet voice podcast where you can get some updates there. I don't have my way of showing that we're moving out of the podcast and into a little bit of a mini advertisement, but I'll just tap on my glass here.
As always thank you for supporting me. Thank you for sharing this work. Thank you for listening and thank you for rating it. With that said, I'm going to now. Read for you. The story of jumping mouse.
The story of jumping mouse.
There once was a mouse. He was a busy mouse, searching everywhere, touching his whiskers to the grass. And looking. He was busy as all mice are busy with mice things, but once in a while, He would hear an odd sound. He would prick his ears and lift his head. Squinting hard to see. His whiskers, wiggling in the air and he would wonder. One day, he scurried up to a fellow mouse and ask him. Do you hear a roaring in your ears?
My brother. No, no answered the other mouse, not lifting his busy nose from the ground. I hear nothing. I am busy now. Talk to you later. He asked another mouse. The same question and the mouse looked at him strangely. Are you foolish in the head? What sound. He asked and slipped into a hole in a fallen Cottonwood tree.
The little mouse shrugged, his whiskers, and busied himself determined to forget the whole matter. But there was that roaring again. It was faint. Very faint, but it was there. He decided to investigate the sound just a little. Leaving the other mice, he scurried a little way away and listened again. There it was. He was listening hard when suddenly someone said. Hello. Hello, little brother.
The voice said. And mouse almost jumped right out of his skin. He parked his back and tail and was about to one. Hello again. So the voice it is I brother raccoon. And sure enough, it was. What are you doing here all by yourself? Little brother. Ask the rec room. The mouse blushed. And put his nose almost to the ground. I hear a roaring in my ears and I am investigating it. He answered timidly. Uh, roaring in your years, replied a raccoon. As he sat down with him. What do you hear a little brother? Is the river. The river. Mouse asked curiously. What is a river? Walk with me and I will show you the river. Raccoon said. A little mouse was terribly afraid. But he was determined to find once and for all about the roaring. I can return to my work. He thought. After this thing is settled and possibly this thing may eight, me and my, all my busy examining and collecting. And my brothers all said it was nothing. I will show them.
I will ask raccoon to return with me and I will have proof. All right. Raccoon, my brother. Said mouse. Lead onto the river. I will walk with you.
A little mouse walked with raccoon. His heart pounding in his breast. The raccoon was taking him upon strange paths and little mouse smelled the scent of many things that had gone by this way. Many times he became so frightened. He almost turned back. Finally, they came to the river. And it was huge in breathtaking, deep and clear in places and murky in others. A little mouse was unable to see across because it was so great. It roared saying cried and thundered on its course. Little mouse saw great and small pieces of the world carried along when it's powerful.
Little mouse saw great and small pieces of the world carried along when it surface. It is powerful. Little mice said. Fumbling for words. It is a great thing. Answered the raccoon. But here. Let me introduce you to a friend. In a smoother shallower place was a Lily pad bright in green. Sitting upon it was a frog. Almost as green as the pat it's sat on the frog's white belly stood out clearly. Hello, little brother said the frog. Welcome to the river. I must leave you cut in raccoon, but do not fear.
Little brother for frog will care for you now. And raccoon left, looking in the wrong, the riverbank for food that he might wash and eat. A little mouse approached the water and looked into it. He saw a frightened mouse reflected there. Who are you? Little mouse asked for reflection. He looked up at frog. Are you not afraid being so far out into the great river?
No. Answer the frog. I am not afraid. I have been given the gift from birth to live both above and within the water. When winter comes and freezes this medicine, I can not be seen. But all the while Thunderbird flies, I am here. To visit me one must come when the world is green and I, my brother. And the keeper of the water. Amazing. A little mouse said it last again.
Fumbling for words. Would you like to have some medicine, power frog tasked. Medicine power. Me. As the little mouse. Yes. Yes. It is possible if it is possible. Then the CRA then the crouch as slow as you can. And then jump. As high as you are able. You will have your medicine frog said. A little mouse did, as he was instructed, he crouched his low as he could. And jumped. And when he did, he saw far off. The sacred mountains. A little mouse could hardly believe his eyes, but there they were. Then he fell back to earth and landed in the river. A little mouse scrambled back to the bank.
He was wet and frightened nearly to death. You tricked me a little mouse, screamed at the frog. Oh, wait. So the frog you are not harmed. Do not let your fear and anger blind you. What did you see? I mouse Stanford. I. I saw the sacred mountains. And you have a new name. Frock said it is jumping mouse. Thank you.
Thank you. Jumping mouse said and thanked him again. I want to return to my people and tell them of this thing that has happened to me. Go. Go then frog said. Return to your people. It is easy to find them, keep the sound of the great river to the back of your head. Go opposite to the sound and you will find your brother mice. Jumping mouse return to the world of the mice. But he found disappointment. No one would listen to him. And because he was wet and had no way of explaining it because there had been no rain, many of the other mice were afraid of him. Uh, they believed he had been spat from the mouth of another animal that had tried to eat him.
And they all knew that if he had not been food for the one who wanted him, that he must also be poisoned for them. Jumping mouse lived among his people, but he could not forget. His vision of the sacred mountains. The memory burned in the mind and heart of jumping mouse. And one day he went to the edge of the place of mice and looked out into the Prairie. He looked up for Eagles. The sky was full of many spots.
Each one, an Eagle. But he was determined to go to the sacred mountains. He gathered all of his courage and ran just as fast as he could onto the Prairie. This little heart. Pounded with excitement and fear. He ran and ran until he came to some Sage bushes. He was resting and trying to catch his breath when he saw an old mouse. The patch of Sage old mouse lived in, was a Haven for mice seeds were plentiful and there was nesting material and many things to be busy with. Oh, hello. Said the old mouse. Welcome. Jumping mouse was amazed, such a place and such a mouse. You are truly a great mouse.
Jumping said. Jumping mouse said with all of the respect, he could find. This is a truly a wonderful place and the Eagles cannot see you here either.
Yes. Is that the old mouse? And one can see all the beings of the Berry here, the Buffalo antelope rabbit. Coyote. One can see them. All from here and know their names. That is marvelous. Jumping mouse said. Can you also see the great river and the sacred mountains? Yes. And no. Old mouse said with conviction. I know there is a river. But I am afraid that the sacred mountains are only a dream. Forget your passion to see them and stay here with me. There is everything you want here. And it is a good place to be. How can, how can he say such thing? Thought jumping mouse. The medicine of the sacred mountain. This is nothing.
One can forget. Thank you very much for your meal. You have shared with me old mouse and also for sharing your home. Jumping Mel said, but, but I must seek the mountains. Uh, your, your foolish. To leave here. There is danger on the Prairie. Just look up there. Well, the mouse said with even more conviction, see all those spots. Those are Eagles. And they will catch you. It was hard for jumping mouse to leave, but he gathered his determination and ran hard again, the ground was rough, but he arched his tail and ran with all of his might. He could feel the shadows of the spots upon his back as he ran. All those spots. Finally, he ran into a stand of choke cherry trees. Jumping mouse could hardly believe his eyes.
It was cool there and very spacious. There was a water. Cherries and seeds to eat. Grasses to gather for nests holes to be explored and many, many other things for a mouse to do.
He was investigating his new domain when he heard very heavy breathing.
Quickly investigated the sound and discovered its source. It was a great mound of hair. With black horns. It was a great Buffalo. Jumping mouse could hardly believe the greatness of the being. He saw lying there before him. He was so large that jumping mouth. Could have crawled on Tim. Crawled into one of his great horns. It's such a magnificent being thought.
Jumping mouse, Andy crept closer. Uh, hello, my brother. Thank you for visiting me. Hello. Great being so jumping mouse. W why are you lying here? I am sick. And I am dying. Buffalo said. And my medicine has told me that only the eye of a mouse can heal me. But little brother. There is no such thing as a mouse. Jumping mouse was shocked. What if my eyes, he thought one of my tiny eyes. Scurried back into the stand of chokecherries. But the breathing came harder and slower. He will die, thought jumping mouse.
If I do not give him my eye. He is too great. A being to let die. He went back to where Buffalo lay and spoke. I am a mouse. He said, And you, my brother are a great being. I can not let you die. I have two eyes. So you may have one of them. And the minute that he said it. Jumping mouses. I flew out of his head and Buffalo was made whole. He got to his feet, shaking jumping mouse, his whole world. Thank you.
My little brother. Said Buffalo. I know of your request for the sacred mountains and of your visit to the great river. You have given me life so that I may give away to the people. I will be your brother forever run under my belly, and I will take you right to the foot of the sacred mountains. And you need not fear.
The spots Eagles cannot see you while you run under me. And they will see will with what they will see will be the back of a Buffalo. But I cannot go further. I am of the Prairie and I will fall on you. If I try to go up the mountains. Jumping mouse ran under Buffalo secure and hidden from the spots. But with only one eye, it was frightening. Buffalo's great.
Hooves shook the whole world. Each time he took a step. Finally, they came to a place in Buffalo. Stopped. This is where I must leave you little brother. He said. Thank you very much. It's a jumping mouse, but you know, it was very frightening running under you with only one eye. I was constantly in fear of your earth, shaking hoofs. Your fear was for nothing said, brother. Set Buffalo. For my way of walking is the Sundance way. And I always know where my hooves will fall. Now I must return to the Prairie.
My brother. You can always find me there.
Jumping mouse immediately began to investigate his new surroundings. There were even more things here than in other places, busier things and an abundance of seeds and other things, mice, like. In his investigation of these things, suddenly he ran upon a gray Wolf. Who was sitting there doing absolutely nothing. Hello brother Wolf jumping bow said. The Wolf's ears came alert and his eye eyes shown. Woof.
Woof. Yes, that's what I am. I am a Wolf. But then his mind dimmed. And it was not long before he sat quietly again, completely without memory. As to who he was.
Each time jumping mouse reminded him of who he was. He became excited with the news. But soon would forget. It's such a great being thought. Jumping mouse. But he has no memory. Jumping mouse went to the center of this new place and was quiet. He listened for a long time to the beating of his heart. Then suddenly he made up his mind. He scurried back to where the Wolf sat and he spoke. Brother Wolf jumping mouse said Wolf Wolf said the Wolf, please.
Brother Wolf. Said jumping mouse. Please listen to me. I know what will heal you. It is one of my eyes. And I want to give it to you. Please take it. And when jumping mouse stopped speaking, his eye flew out of his head and Wolf was made whole. Tears fell down. Wolf's cheek. But his little brother could not see them. For now he was blind. You are a great brother, said Wolf.
Now I have my memory. I am the guide to the secret mountains. I will take you there. There is a great medicine lake there. The most beautiful lake in the world. the whole world. is reflected there. The people, the lodges of the people and all the beings of the Prairie's and skies. Please take me there. Jumping mouse said. Wolf guided him through the Pines, to the medicine lake. Jumping mouse drank the water from the lake. And Wolf described the beauty to him. I must leave you here. Said Wolf. For, I must return so that I may guide others. But I will remain for as long as you like. Thank you, my brother. I said jumping mouse. But although I am frightened to be alone, I know you must go. So that you may show others the way to this place. We'll fluffed. And jumping mouse PSAT. Trembling in fear. It was no use of running. Where he was blind. And he knew an Eagle would find him there. He felt a shadow on its back. And heard the sound that Eagles make. And he braced himself for the shock.
The Eagle hit. And jumping mouse. Went to sleep. Then he woke up. And the surprise of being alive was great. For now he could see. Everything was blurry, but the colors were beautiful. I can see, I can see some jumping mouse over and over again. Uh, faint shape came towards jumping mouse. He squinted hard, but the shape remained a blur. Hello brother. A voice said. Do you want some medicine? some medicine? for me. Asked him jumping mouse.
Yes. Yes. Then crouch down as low as you can. The voice said. And jump as high as you can. Jumping now state as he was instructed. Crouched as low as he could and jumped. The wind caught him. And carried him. higher. And higher. Do not be afraid to voice called to him. Hang on to the wind and trust. So jumping mouse did. He closed his eyes and hung on to the wind. And it carried him higher and higher. He opened his eyes and they were clear. And the higher he went. The clear they became. Jumping mouse looked down and saw his old friend upon a Lily pad on the beautiful medicine lake. Is that you frog? He called. Hello, jumping mouse. Cried frog. You have a new name? You are Eagle now. Look. Look. at yourself. Jumping mouse looked. Where his hind legs had been, were sharp talents. Where his four legs had been where wing feathers. And where his nose and whiskers had been was a great. Curved beak. He spread his wings wide. And he flew and he flew. And he flew.
That was the story of jumping mouse. A story that is difficult to understand exactly where it came from. The origins of the legend remained a mystery to me. Uh, the source that I am using seems to call that, call it from the Plains Indians Sundance story. Um, but if you want to read or share this story, it's yourself. , I am putting a link to it inside of the description of this podcast so that if whatever the source, it may continue to be an inspiration for us all.
With that I will leave you. I leave you with a blessing for the new year so that it may be filled with curiosity. Questions. A surrender to answers. If we get them. And to an openness, even if they don't come.
Blessings on your journey. And. I wish you peace and presence. Until we speak again.
Goodbye for now.
