|You're viewing ulfrvif's journal|
Create a Dreamwidth Account Learn More
I was once a normal, happy, ignorant human child. Youth is shed painfully. Certainly in my case. My first hard lesson came at the age of nine. I tried to show care, concern, and love for a puppy. My mother scolded me and told me not to cry. She said that if I ever cried like that again, she would take that dog away from me. Those words crushed my soul. They killed any true happiness or love in me.
Why get attached to another being if showing any emotional connection to it will result in someone ripping it away from me? I would never have the ability to properly form attachments, make friends, or truly know love. Sure, I have a mate, but to this very day I sometimes question my feelings. I question their authenticity. Are they real? Are they true? I try not to question too much or think of it too often. But mimicry is a major tool for survival. Do I mimic the actions of one in a loving relationship? I don't have the answer.
Even if I can express emotions better after several years of healing, I'm still afraid that my attachments might not be healthy ones. But again, thinking too much only makes it worse.
I suffered depression for months after being told to bottle up my emotions. I suffer to this day. Next my humanity was slowly, agonizingly chipped away. The hell created by my parents went on for seven or eight long years. It continued long after they divorced. Every day of those years was filled with my parents fighting and arguing. I was surrounded by verbal, physical, and emotional abuse. During those years, I think my father asked me once if I was okay. Every night I thought of ending my life. My parents taught me, for the second time, that love did not exist. It was fake. Only anger, hate, distrust, and disappointment are true emotions.
I was broken. I did not allow myself to give in to any emotions. Except when they escaped in rare uncontrollable outbursts. Those outbursts drew too much attention and landed me in more trouble. So, I pushed emotions down deeper into darker corners of my mind. I had no relationships in high school. I trusted no one. I was as anxious and wary as a caged animal as I sat in classrooms. I was a tormented beast that wanted out of my own mind and body.
After one outburst, I was sent to the high school's councilor. I spoke with her three or four times. Then, my mother found out. My mother said that I had no right to talk to other people about her and my father's private problems and private lives. I also took it as being reprimanded again for having emotions and for seeking help with them because they were becoming darker and more destructive. I stopped visiting the councilor. To feel only brought me scorn.
How does a teenager survive all of this? How did I think of suicide every night and day for years and not attempt the the act? How did I wake up and walk through another day filled with depression, self-loathing, anger, and hate? I also had no relationships simply to protect anyone I thought I cared about. I kept them at a distance to protect them from the damning darkness that seethed inside of me. I was worthless. I knew I was incapable of caring or truly loving another person. Why even try? Love was a joke. My parents taught me well. Love did not exist.
Why didn't I give up, with nothing good to live for? Humans are animals. They have basic survival instincts. They just don't admit to being so base. I had nothing else. Without emotion and higher feelings, I became a beast.
That puppy which my mother had told me not to cry over had been a wolf-dog. By forcing us apart my mother brought us together in a way that she could never have imagined. By separating us, my mother actually made that wolf-dog my only reason to exist. Somewhere deep down inside my sick mind, I latched onto the idea that the wolf-dog was my pack and only true family. Even after his mysterious death at only two years of age, I felt as if he was the only one who had ever cared for me. He had been my brother and mentor. That wolf-dog taught me everything I know. A wolf-dog saved this wretched human and with his help, through hell's fire, this soul and mind have been forged into those of a wolf. A beast of survival.
Every day I thought about suicide was a day of perseverance. The wolf in me knew that the famine wouldn't last forever. Every day was just about blending in, acting as normal as possible so no one got suspicious and asked questions. I tried to hide the chaos inside. It was chaotic suppressing emotions while becoming less human and more wolf with each passing day. Again, I protected those around me from this chaos by keeping them at a distance, even pushing them coldly away. But I was surviving. My human brain struggled against the beast growing and taking over. Buy my spirit was beginning to shine through the darkness.
Here, I will throw in another facet of this experience and transformation. In the beginning, I had called myself a Christian. I feared God. I feared being damned and going to hell. It's what led me to hate myself. I was born a sinner. I thought I had read somewhere that children of divorced parents were damned and sent to hell. So, my life was hopeless. My soul was irredeemable. Why was I trying? Why not kill myself since I was damned anyway?
But wolf doesn't think that way. Wolf survives. Wolf does not need to be saved by anyone. I came to realize that there was no Jesus or God. No one was going to save me. Only I could help and save myself. If anyone is responsible for helping to save me, it was, of course, a wolf-dog. Discarding the concept that I was predestined to spend an eternity in hell for my parents' decisions started a reaction that has slowly dissolved a lot of pain. That also led to the wolf being a more free, confident, and powerful being.
The wolf within me was actually the light in the darkness. I saw my physical human form as ugly. I was not desirable. I was weak and sickly. Stress and depression ravage the body and can cause long-term health problems. Through the years, I went to several doctors. Each doctor gave a different diagnosis. Mononucleosis. Irritable bowel syndrome. I could be doubled over from the pain of ovarian cysts. I was anemic and had no energy. A weak wolf does not survive, but the wolf in me was strong and beautiful. I never turned to smoking, alcohol, or drugs during those challenging years of my life. The wolf within forced me to make healthier choices. I began to eat better food and exercise. I got stronger to survive. To this day, not being active enough and eating poorly causes IBS and cyst flare ups. But I manage them.
I still struggle with emotions. But wolves are emotional beings. Wolves are pack animals. They form bonds with others. I am still wary of other humans and don't really trust anyone. Other than my mate, I still don't have any friends. I still just go through my days trying to blend in and look normal. Being a wolf is what makes me a decent human being. Believe it or not, canines and other creatures have systems of morality and fairness. If not for becoming a wolf, the hateful person that I had been would have started to hurt herself and others on purpose.
Believe it or not, my mind is not so sick anymore. I said I still suffer from depression, but I attribute that to being human. I've never taken any medication for depression. I see it like the waves of the ocean. They come and go. Depression rises up and falls down on a regular basis. I'm learning to manage depression along with my other health problems. Being mindful is the key. I am much better off as a wolf that I ever was as only a human. I hated myself enough over the years. I don't hate myself now. I am content with being this beast. This wolf is content with being a survivor instead of a suicide.
My parents actually have a good friendship after being divorced for a few years, and I have a fairly good relationship with them.
December 12, 2015
Dream from June 22, 2008
I was standing in a sandy arena. Other soldiers were lined up on either side of me. A king sat at one end, towards my left. A ceremony was taking place in his honor. The setting seemed to be Medieval from the looks of clothing and armor. I was among the knights and warriors there to protect and serve the king.
The festivities continued as planned. The king ordered us to march in the arena. Men dressed in bright colors were probably clowns and performers. As the king became drunk, he ordered them to join our ranks and march too. He and the audience laughed and enjoyed themselves.
Until the situation changed. Spectators began to scream and scatter. Enemy soldiers rushed into the arena. They were clearly after the king, but we were alert and prepared. Swords were out in seconds and fighting erupted.
I was right in the middle of it, unafraid. Swords clashed and rang as soldiers grunted and yelled. The arena was also becoming dark. Late afternoon was upon us. Night was approaching, and there was a lot of dust in the air. I fought well. A couple enemies were quickly cut down. More took their place. I parried, spun, and killed another. I grappled with one soldier, threw him to the ground, and finished him.
As I stood and looked for my next opponent, a sword stabbed my chest. With one hand, I held the blade, preventing my attacker from pulling it away. With my sword in the other hand, I fought on fiercely. Soon, after two or three cuts, my foe was down. But I was bleeding, weakened, and stumbling.
I think it was also at this point that I started to feel the wolf within calling to me. My hand was still gripping the sword protruding from my chest. I gritted my teeth, pulled, and the blade slowly emerged, slick with blood. The pain buckled my knees. I fell back. The swords, released from my limp hands, landed beside me.
I remember feeling very much like a wolf during the dream, almost as if I was transformed. A wolf might have also come to watch over me. This most likely happened as I lay on the ground in pain, feeling my breaths get slow and labored as I died.
I saw the fight continue, but it was almost over. There were very few soldiers remaining. The arena was must darker. I felt sand under my cheek and hands. Dead bodies were all around me. As my eyes closed, the feeling of being a wolf was the strongest. I think it is the wolf spirit that would not give up or die. My life was not meant to end there.
I don't know how long I slept or was unconscious. Perhaps it was for centuries. As I opened my eyes, I found myself in a modern setting. To be more specific, I was on the floor of my grandmother's house. I was still in some pain. Slowly, I moved stiff, aching muscles and sat up. A sword was also on the floor, within reach. It frightened me. I looked down at my shirt. There was no blood or hole in the fabric. But when I stretched the collar down, a healing white scar was on my chest.
I carefully stood. I heard my grandmother coming into the house, snatched up the sword, and found a place to hide it. The dream ended there.
The pain and being stabbed had seemed very realistic. Upon waking, I did look at my chest. No white scar, but there is a red rash where one had not been yesterday. Maybe I was bitten by a mosquitoe or something in the night as I slept, causing my mind to fabricate my death. Or maybe it's something more. The mind is powerful, and sometimes what we imagine does have small physical effects on the body. Of course, I can't know for sure. I just try to think of multiple possibilities.
I do believe that this dream is a sign of the strong wolf spirit within. Even when our physical bodies die, the soul remains.
"There is no death. Only a change of worlds." - Chief Seattle, Dwamish Tribe
I was in the city, walking down the road, and people were staring at me. It was because four or five white wolves were following me. I came to a stop in a parking garage. Too many people were watching, and the wolves needed to leave. They turned and faded into the shadows. But one lingered.
I kneeled and beckoned to him. He slowly approached and allowed me to pet his neck. He said he had something to give me. I held out my hands, and a small pouch dropped from the wolf's mouth into them. He said I must not open the pouch. I needed to search for and find something else. He couldn't tell me anymore and disappeared.
So I walked through the city all night searching for something. I didn't know where I was going or why. I just had the pouch given to me by the white wolf. I finally climbed to the top of a building, and it seemed like a dead end. I didn't know where else to go. But there was a man there. It seemed like a strange place to find another person.
He asked what I was doing there. I said I was searching for something, and it seemed like I was lost. He offered to help me and asked if I had any clues or anything that might point the way. All I had was the pouch, and if I remember correctly, I let him see it after some hesitation. I believe I told him it couldn't be opened. The end of the dream is fuzzy. I'm not sure if this happened or not, but I think he told me not to be afraid. Then, we might have opened the pouch together.
This journal entry marks the day that I was finally done with being a Christian. It also includes an in depth look into the development of my Therianthropy.
I had two friends. I suspected that the first one didn't believe me. We had an argument last week, and I was right. He doesn't believe people can have animal souls. The second friend believed me for a while. Then, he went overseas on a mission trip. He came back and doesn't believe me. "That's not the way God works," He told me. "I think you are lost and don't want to be found." It was late, and I didn't ask for a further explanation. He doesn't agree with my beliefs, but he did say he respects them. At least that's something.
The first friend acted as if he didn't even want to respect my beliefs. He didn't think I could be happy this way. Well, I told him I couldn't talk to him any more, and I waited for the feelings of loneliness and emptiness to tell me I'd done something wrong. Instead, I felt as if it should have happened long ago, as if he and I had been holding each other back from better possibilities. Now, I think I can move on and prepare for the next stage of my journey.
I'm not mad or angry at either of them. I still wish for their happiness and hope they are blessed in life. Yet, at the same time, I still ask myself some questions and examine some things from my own life again. It's not like I had problems in my life, found a group of people, and decided to be like them to hide or run away from my problems. That's not it at all.
It's true that my parents had problems and are divorced now. That could have made me change. But why change the way I did if I could have picked up the habits and stuff of my friends at school? No, I still wasn't like them either. The wolf came to me, gave me hope and comfort. I didn't believe at first. The wolf disappeared for a while, but it kept returning. I had dreams of the wolf, and it told me I could be happy. I started to accept the wolf as a part of me instead of taking the many other paths set before me. There were so many chances to be someone else, to be "normal," but I guess that wasn't truly me. I accepted the wolf and wanted to learn more. That's when I found others like me.
I guess I'm writing this, because I might be doubting a little. However, I don't think I could ever go back now. If I pushed the wolf away, rejected her, and tried to forget my soul and my beliefs to be more normal, I would be living a lie.
So what's worse - ending a friendship and being myself, or living a lie to please someone else? Does keeping my beliefs make me selfish? I try to imagine being like them, like other humans, ignorant of new possibilities, some never giving their spirits or souls a single thought. I try to see myself acting more like them to fit in, belong, have more friends, and possibly be popular.
But I feel something inside me cringe. It's afraid of those thoughts. I guess it's the wolf in me. She doesn't care about being popular, fitting in, or pleasing people who don't understand. She just wants the freedom to be true to herself and what she believes. And I believe that I'm quite capable of being happy the way I am. I think the more I embrace the wolf within, the stronger and more confident I will become. The wolf is my guide, and it is there to help me.
Usually at night when I lie still and quiet, I feel most of my body phantom-shift into a wolf. Arms become forelegs, fingers shorten into paws, legs shorten and feet also become paws. It’s becoming easy to feel a tail. Sometimes I feel it wag whenever I feel good or get excited about something. Sometimes when I’m sitting, my tail is curled around me so it won’t be sat on. I also feel ears at night. It’s harder to imagine or feel my face elongate, but on some occasions I can feel the powerful jaws and more teeth. It’s also a nice surprise to feel fur on most of my body too.
There was a time when mental shifts came unexpectedly and they were confusing. But now I believe or feel as if the wolf is almost constant. When I’m alone, I might shift deeper into the wolf. In other words, my actions and movements are more wolf-like, but I can’t stay that way all the time.
However, the last few nights, I’ve been shifting into something else. I tried to resist it. I thought I was only a wolf, but maybe I was wrong. My arms didn’t become thin wolf legs. They felt heavy, muscular, and bulky. I asked myself what animals are like that. Tigers, lions, and other large cats came to mind, but I don’t really feel feline. I might have a few small feline characteristics. There has been a pet cat in the family as long as I can remember, and I do mimic the current one at times. My Chinese zodiac is also the tiger, but I just don’t feel like it’s a major part of me. My Greek zodiac is Sagittarius. I do believe I have the horse as a spirit guide, but it’s not a constant either. The wolf is constant, always there, just under the surface.
So, the new feeling isn’t a cat. Then I thought about bears. They are large and heavy, especially grizzly bears. But that didn’t fit. Neither did black bears. They are smaller and the size didn’t seem right. I was about to give up and dismiss the feeling when polar bear came to mind. I’ve never felt like I had a bear as a spirit guide, and I never imagined having one as a major part of my being. I let the heavy, bulky sensation of front legs come again. My hands felt odd too, much bigger. I pictured a polar bear in my mind, lumbering across the snow. The way its front legs moved, muscular and thick, felt right this time. The large paws that helped it walk across the snow also fit. And the white of its fur seemed strangely accurate.
That was last night. Today, I considered it again. I know I need to research polar bears and their behavior. I also need to see if the feeling or shifts continue or get stronger. But as I was picturing the polar bear in my mind, the wolf came forward too. I saw the wolf’s face and polar bear’s face together, slightly transparent and on top of one another, as if the bear is now and equal part of me, and the wolf and bear have an understanding. They are there to work together.
I had been in a rut for a while. I felt like I wasn’t advancing or growing spiritually, but after thinking of the bear, I felt a lot better today. I was more active, energetic, alert, and awake. It felt good. Maybe it’s just the feel of fall in the air though. So I’ll keep thinking of the bear, and wait for more shifts. See what happens and how it makes me feel.
July 30, 2007
Last night I had a dream about wolves. It’s been several hours since I had the dream. I don’t remember everything correctly, and I’m not sure of the exact order. Maybe I had two separate dreams.
In one part, I think I was at home. There was a large black wolf and a puppy, a very young wolf that was gray. I just remember watching the two wolves play, and for a little while I played with them. I believe the older wolf was teaching the young one. He might have been trying to teach me too. But I’m not sure what he was trying to teach us.
In the other part of the dream, I remember being in the woods. I was at an old camp where my dad hunts sometimes. Or maybe that’s where the dream-place reminds me of. I do remember thinking that dad was hunting. I was alone, outside on the porch. I heard coyotes yelping loudly and coming in my direction. I howled like a wolf to frighten them away. They still came though. The coyotes started to come through the woods. Then they were scared by something else and ran away. That’s when I heard other wolves howl. They came from the woods and played near me for a few minutes. As they began to drift back into the woods, I remembered that mom was walking alone. The sun was setting, and I was afraid the coyotes would attack her. The wolves sensed my fear, seemed to understand me, and quickly ran to find and protect her. The leader stayed a few moments longer, starring at me. I wasn’t afraid. His power reassured me and gave me comfort. Once I was calmer, he drifted into the lengthening shadows to follow the others. The dream ended as I caught sight of my mom, returning safely from her walk.
I woke up and thought about the leader’s stance, and the way he looked at me and how he made me feel. It’s as if he was telling me that he would protect me. His pack and all the wolves would always be there to help me. It was a wonderful feeling. During the dream I remained a human, but I think the wolves can sense other wolves on a spiritual level.
July 29, 2007
*Some mentions of God remain as I still considered myself a Christian when this was originally written.
It stormed this afternoon. The air is cool and crisp outside. I wish I could go outside and run, but I guess I won’t. I don’t have anyone to run with me. That’s really a terrible excuse though – not running because I’m lonely. A lot of wolves are running alone out there. They have to in order to survive. They keep going. And that’s what I plan to do, in my own way. I just hope it leads me to somewhere or something good in the future.
I really started writing this because I wanted to say I’ve been trying to understand my human emotions again. I guess no one will ever be able to understand what they feel or why. I’ve said this before, but it’s come up again. I wish I could live without my emotions. Without the complicated human ones anyway. Because I know wolves must have emotions of some kind, but I guess they would be geared towards survival, the pack, and accomplishing necessary things. I’m sure wolves don’t worry about events they can’t control. I’m sure they don’t have time to waste on imaginary problems or irrelevant things. They probably think only about what is beneficial to the pack. It must be a blessing to be a simple animal. But wolves aren’t really that simple, are they? They have very complex lives too. But somehow they still seem more pure and truly free. God, what have you done? What have you created and why? Did you really put a wolf soul in me?
Well, I said I wouldn’t doubt that any more. But why place a wolf soul in a human? Why trap something so wild, pure, and free inside such an insignificant shell? Maybe it was a mistake instead of planned. Some people say god doesn’t make mistakes, but what if death and rebirth are just random? What if everything is just random? There’s no order in the universe. The wolf in me says that’s silly. Not everything can be random. There is an order or a pattern.
The whole world breathes. Besides, I’m not the only one. Hundreds of people feel like they have an animal soul. I don’t think God or Mother Earth would make that many mistakes. God may have created the Earth and all planets, but I feel as if the Earth is alive. In a sense, she has a free will of her own. God may control some storms, but some are the will of the Earth itself. Forget scientific explanations. That’s just a safeguard. While scientists are busy with their theories, the true believers are people with stronger spiritual understanding. They are the ones searching for the real truth as they get closer to the Earth and God. Not that science is bad. It helps us in some ways, but it does a lot of harm too.
Anyway, that’s interesting to think about, but not really the other thing I wanted to talk about. How does a wolf soul live in a human body? How does it learn to adapt? How do I live a normal life without going insane? Well my life will never be normal, but there are everyday human tasks that must be performed. I’m getting through college classes alright, but I will need a job soon. The freedom that the wolf needs won’t be available any more. I will have less time for daydreaming and running through the snow in my mind. I’m already 20. The time has come to grow up and be more mature. I need to start shouldering more responsibility. I can’t be an adolescent puppy forever. Maybe if I were serious about writing. That could be my release for things outside of work. It’s what I’m doing now. But writing thoughts and problems doesn’t really get me anywhere. Does it? I need to write more of my daydreams as short stories. That might really help me be more creative.
Can I not stay on topic? Oh well, I’m just letting ideas flow. Back to being a wolf in a human world. It’s scary and depressing. Being alone doesn’t help, but I can’t do much about that problem. What we want isn’t always what we need. With that said, there are rules a wolf must follow. As if I haven’t written a lot already – this might take a while. Or maybe I will surprise myself and get to the point and make this short.
Physical contact is essential to the bonds in a wolf pack. Playing and mach fights are important. Grooming each other also reinforces bond between pack members. Is any of this possible in a human world? No. I could never bump into my friends or rub shoulders whenever I wanted. I have more male friends that female. A girl who plays with two or three guys at once will be considered a flirt and probably several other unwanted titles. And what of a female who shows another female that kind of attention? What would other humans see and think? Also, about the guys, they would see the attention as something it’s not, and they would probably get jealous of each other. So, physical contact must be kept to a minimum if unwanted human situations are to be avoided. That really confuses a wolf who understands that touch and play is vital.
Body language is rather complex for humans and wolves. Unfortunately, humans don’t even really understand what they are telling each other half the time. Signals get really mixed up and confused between humans. Wolves know exactly what they are saying with every muscle twitch and every sound. They are probably the world’s best communicators. But being part wolf and part human means I don’t always understand what other humans are saying. I have to be careful to not let any growls or snarls lose when I’m angry. Also, I think I’m a bit more animated with facial expressions than other humans, but I could be wrong about that.
I still wonder why I’m here. I still wonder why I feel like a wolf instead of a human. There are so many things I can’t explain. So many strange thoughts that I can’t grasp. And dreams of wolves. Hopes and wishes that surely, no normal human ever thinks of. Feelings that others probably never have. Internal confrontations between the wants of a human and the duty of a wolf. I don’t want to be here. I don’t belong here. This isn’t my true home. I wish I could run and run forever, until I found what I’m missing.
Or maybe I still haven’t fully awakened. Chief (family's pet wolfdog) woke me up once. For years, I wasn’t sure of what I was on the inside. Then, I realized I wasn’t alone. There are other wolf people in the world. So I’m more sure of my spiritual self. But I’m beginning to feel as if that’s holding me back. Maybe that’s not the right term. But my eyes are still closed. I can’t see completely yet. It’s like there is one final awakening that needs to take place. So I can finally become what I’m meant to be. Then I will understand my purpose. But what’s going to wake me up? How long will I continue to wait? What must I do?
*Edited this entry a little. Some mentions of God remain as I still considered myself a Christian when this was originally written.
I just finished watching an animated movie titled The Last Unicorn. It is a wonderful story. Makes me cry sometimes, how the Unicorn is trapped in a human body and almost forgets her true form. And while she is human, the Unicorn learns what love is, and she learns regret.
I seem to understand this all too well myself. Maybe as a wolf in a previous life, I didn’t understand love the way humans do. I also didn’t know such great pain, anger, hatred, or sorrow either. But I would still rather be a wolf again, because I am afraid of loosing my true self and my beliefs to this human form and this human world. If I do have a wolf soul, this human body is just a cage. It hinders my freedom. But at the same time that my soul is attached to it, this body also does not feel real. It’s not truly part of me, and when it dies my soul will discard its cage and be free once more.
But last night as I rested in bed, this body suddenly seemed heavier. I felt more attached to it. I felt as if this human form is all I had ever been, and all I would ever be. It terrified me. I didn’t feel the wolf in me. The wolf was completely gone. I was nothing but a human, a physical being. There was no soul or spirit in me.
How long can I endure?
How long can I fight the pain I feel?
How much longer can I struggle to remain a wolf in this form, in this world?
Before I go mad?
Before I decide to give up and stop believing?
Before I become human?
And if I do give in to all these feelings and emotions, if I become a human in body and mind, there will be no soul or spirit. As a human, I won’t believe in anything. All I will know is the physical world, what I can touch, feel, and see with human senses. I will live in the darkness, blinded forever. When I die, there won’t be a Heaven or Hell. There won’t be anything because the human doesn’t care or believe in stuff like that. She will be too concerned with fitting in, having friends, dating, and living a normal life. Never knowing the truth. Just living, dying, and decaying into nothing.
But if I fight to remain a wolf, until the very last ounce of my strength and determination, what will happen? I guess I don’t really have any answers. But as long as I believe I have a wolf soul, I believe in something else. A better place. A better world, one that is reborn. As long as I remain a wolf, I have a small glimmer of hope.
A battle wages inside me constantly. I pray to God that it will end, that the wolf in me will show herself completely and truly. But sometimes I think He doesn’t hear my cries.
What will it take?
How much must I suffer?
How close must I come to falling before I am heard?
I don’t know.
Maybe we must all fall, repeatedly, to be saved.
I don’t know the answers. But I do know that the wolf in me still has strength to run, to fight.
And she continues on…
Never wanting to stop…
The other day as I was watching my Mom’s cat Sapphire sleep on the floor it occurred to me that he might not be sleeping. And he might not be as lazy as he seems. Perhaps Sapphire is working hard to protect me and Mom from evil spirits and other things we can’t sense. Maybe all animals are here to protect us.
The next day as I watched the birds fly, I wondered if that’s how God watches everyone. He has the birds and other creatures, and possibly the Earth itself, tell Him what the humans are doing. These animals can probably even sense our emotions. They are messengers between God the Earth. The animals are also here to help us, if we let them. They can give us a great feeling of beauty, harmony, and peace. They can teach us and guide us. I believe the Native Americans understood this, and they had a strong respect for the animals and Mother Earth. And they were a blessed people, living as they did, alongside the animals and connected to the Earth.
The animals and Earth are mentioned so often in the Bible. God created them all, and all of them hear His commands.
“And you shall not be afraid of the beasts of the earth. For you shall have a covenant with the stones of the field. And the beasts of the field shall be at peace with you.” Job 5:22-23
“But now ask the beasts, and they will teach you; and the birds of the air, and they will tell you; or speak to the earth, and it will teach you; and the fish of the sea will explain to you. Who among all those does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this. In whose hand is the life of every living thing, and the breath of all mankind?”
There is so much more. The people then even believed that God commanded the thunder, spoke through it, commanded the lightning, and told the storms where to go. The evidence is there. Most humans just overlook it, because they don’t care about the birds, animals, the Earth, or how God said we should live beside them with more understanding.