Ever since I was a young child, I have had two Spirit Animals: the Wolf and the Raven. These are not two separate entities; these are one working pair, inseparable. I always likened the two to the movie “LadyHawke”, where she is the falcon and he is the wolf and never shall they be parted. These are my two. My black wolf and even blacker raven. This pair is my Guide, my Totem.
Power animals for me, however, seem to have come and gone, shifting as my needs and desires and life has shifted. Never before have I been particularly attached to any one creature though. My Spirit Pair took care of everything for me. We have a family totem animal, Ursus, which is fairly self-explanatory, especially given my Ancestral Family. I have a Power Animal I use for Journeying purposes, the Grand Jaguar. The Wolf and Raven are for different Journeying purposes that I won’t go into here.
One thing that keeps coming up lately is one of my Muses. I am loathe to say Muse, as in my one and only. So I will offer the whole subjective one of my Muses instead. She comes across in Kelpie form, but not as the myths would have us believe. She is a beautiful creature, more mermaid, a definite Shifter, always shifting into that coal black horse for me, even though my own predilection where courses come are always the roan. She also comes across to me with heavy Raven energy as well. Perhaps, my Muse has many sources and gathers together what She can in order to reach me. To her credit, getting kicked in the head by a big black horse does seem to help me quite a bit every so often. Kelpies have been a favourite creature of mine since I was a teen-ager. Since I was not taught that they were inherently evil from the get go, I have always been more open to them. Since that time, I have learned that most of the creatures that are portrayed as fervently evil simply-are not. Then again, some creatures that are routinely portrayed as sweet and innocent leave devils and daemons behind in the dust when it comes to evil. I have no problem with the Kelpie as my Muse. I find it highly entertaining, especially upon seeing the reactions from others when they find out.
My Kelpie Muse is the closest thing to an oceanic Muse as I have ever courted. Yes, I have always had a thing for mermaids, but not the Disney version. Mermaids were created to be warriors; I guess that explains my constant and fervent dedication to Aquaman, even after all these years. Although Aqualad just amuses the heck out of me these days. Last year, though, the whole oceanic retinue changed. I cannot explain why or how or even exactly when. I am sure in some journal or possibly some online blog entry there is a moment I go from not speaking about this creature to speaking about it. Where the full-blown obsession began is anyone’s guess.
Now, let me first point out that I do collect things for my Totem Animals. I used to have more framed wolf pictures, but at some point, I had to let them go. I have a couple raven pictures, one of which is the conundrum of ‘why is a raven like a writing desk?’, which is my all time favourite riddle. In addition, if you know me, then you know how I feel about Alice in Wonderland. We won’t even walk through the whole tattoo issue at the moment, as I am concentrating more on the things I have done all along my life’s path. I have books on wolves and ravens. I have studied them. I have in cases and in places helped to raise them. I have owned a wolf hybrid more than once in my life. I know too much about their patterns and their communications and their lifestyles in general. I have actually followed a White Raven and not been surprised by its destination. I even own wolf’s stone, somewhere along the line. Since I no longer really work with stones or crystals, I can’t really tell you where it is, only that I am sure it’s around here somewhere.
However, in this lifetime, I have never gone as distinctly gaga over any creature as I have—the octopus. For the life of me, I cannot explain why or tell you how this came to be. I can clearly see my time before the Octopus, where an octopus sighting was a rare and tepid thing at best, to today in my life where I see octopus everywhere. In places I would never conceive possible. I see octopus on billboards, on tv, on cereal boxes, on kids clothes, in magazines, on beach towels, where before I never noticed a thing. I asked to be shown an octopus to prove that Her Power in my life was real—I haven’t stopped being shown since that time.
Do you know how hard it is to get books just on octopus? Ones that don’t cost an arm and a leg? All I wanted originally was something along the lines of a biology textbook—think high level college, not the dumbed-down garbage I have seen with other things. I searched online, with little success. I dragged people to local stores, to no avail. The poor ex even went looking locally as a gift from the kids for my birthday (because I must give the man credit when credit is due, or he’ll never even try again). I did more online research. I ended up buying several kids books about octopus, just to have a stepping off place. It’s sort of the only version of ‘octopus for dummies’ that I could find. I did buy one book that had some things about octopus in it that referenced other books—and have since ordered the other books. More adult and hopefully headier reading books. I am still waiting for them to arrive at the moment.
Books are doable for me though. Books with me are just expected things. I have books on insects just because I saw one and wanted to know more about them. I have books on the weirdest things. Books are the first things I turn to in order to learn new things. I am literally surrounded by books on all sides, in nearly every room in my house.
However, now I have octopus toys, and octopus bags, and octopus jewelry, and octopus hair sticks, and all sorts of other things I have never done for any other Animal. To touch lightly upon the whole tattoo issue, my octopus is the first real full-colour work I have had done—as well as being the largest tattoo I have to date. I keep staring at this one octopus plushie that I am dying to buy and I won’t let myself. I have bought octopus sewn and knitted and crocheted patterns. I have scanned looking for octopus fabrics, for pity-pie’s sake. Not to mention the various fabrics and yarns for making various octopus accoutrements. Yesterday, I bought videos, dvds, on the off-chance they may have some actual live footage of octopus in them. I had an urge to watch an octopus move in real life, in real time. I bought what I could and what seemed best.
Why this deep and utter fascination? Why, after all this time, has an Octopus come to me? Not just any old Octopus either: a Blue-Ringed Octopus. Does anyone else feel the irony here of the only octopus (that I am aware of as yet) that cannot hide by shooting ink has Chosen me? Of course, She came into my life before I agreed to drop all my Glamours, but I still find it funny.
What is it about an Octopus? Eight limbs. Morphic. No bones. Brain all over its body. A Traveler from one World to the Next. Much like my Spider. Grandmother Spider took the Journey from one World to Another, bringing Mankind with Her, at least once. She spins the Web of Life, the Sister Twin to the Three Fates, also a known Fount of Muse for me, a known Journey for me, such that I am. A spider goes into small places, smaller than it may seem possible for the physical body of the creature. An octopus is even more incredible, digging in and moving through tunnels and pipes and all manner of squeamishly small places, sometimes for food, sometimes for fun. We already know I am claustrophobic. But then again, we also know that I am terrified of water, especially Deep Water. Yet, we also know I am apparently fond of backing myself up into a corner, and being forced into small tight dark places, metaphorically speaking, especially when it comes to relationships, romantic or otherwise.
Octopus have unusual grasps of their senses, tasting by touch for example. I smell better by tasting things. Inhaling the aroma over my tongue gives me more information than actually sniffing it. That’s why the whole hold your nose and you won’t taste it thing has never applied to me, since I was a child. The second it is close to my mouth, my tongue knows and I smell it. The other strange thing about me is I actually have a very dull sense of touch. My fingertips have little, if any, sensation in them. I cannot always sense temperature either. Nevertheless, I am an extremely touchy-feely person. I love stroking kittens, and silks, and woolens, and leaves, and flower petals, and yarns, and everything else I can manage to get my paw near without getting into trouble. I love textures. I feel them with more than my skin. I also touch people a lot. I talk with my hands, and I touch people a lot. I dislike being touched, except by certain people, but I do a lot of touching. I tend to orient myself better with people if I can gauge their internal reactions, which I can get more clearly most times by touching them. Although I do not have to be touching them in order to read them.
According to the one book I have, octopus sometimes allow other animals to create and rehabilitate their homes, like parrot fish munching the algae that grows on the coral of the octopus’s home. The octopus itself does a lot of shifting and reshaping of the home as well. One thing they do is try to make the opening smaller and less noticeable, while making the inside more comfortable and homey. That indeed does say much about me. I’d rather people stay away from my home than bother me. Octopus are very solitary; those who know me know I am the lone wolf. Only my family means anything to me, those I deem family. Octopus are fervently dedicated mothers, slaving away over their eggs, cleaning them, caring for them. The blue-ring octopus keeps her eggs close to her, often carrying them on her body. She will fight to the death to protect them. That pretty much sums me up as well. Of course, with the octopus it is give birth, or rather lay eggs, see babies born, die happy having seen them.
Octopus is a symbol of Regeneration. Lose an arm, grow a new one, maybe even with extra fingers on it this time. An octopus can change its colour, its texture, its shape. An octopus can mimic other animals, plants, coral reefs, rocks, whatever, in an effort to hide or hunt, or both. What I find intriguing is that, supposedly, octopus are colour-blind, and yet they can blend in to the colours of their environment absolutely perfectly. In my life, I am constantly re-inventing myself, becoming someone else, growing stronger and more secure in who I am and what I want, even as those things shift and move.
Octopus has a great deal to teach me. I have learned to accept. I have learned to assert my natural talents and gifts. I am still learning. I am still learning to trust and to be open. I am ever the willing student.
I may not be able to tell you exactly when She arrived in my life; I can only assure you that She is here and She has no intentions of moving on from me in this Lifetime, if not any other. I am deeply connected to the Sea and all things that dwell within its shadowy, often impenetrable realms. That connection continues to grow within me. I am open to the possibilities. I welcome and embrace the coming changes. I am grateful for the Counsel and the Grace being offered to me. I gladly, and humbly, accept.
