The Beasts In My Life

I have always lived with animals. Wait. That's true, but subject to wild misinterpretation. You might think I'm the female equivalent to Lord Greystoke of Tarzan fame. Or that my particular sexual fetish is bestiality. Or that my parents were furry and untamed. Or that I was raised in a primeval forest, spoke only in grunts, had no manners or sensibilities, and preferred my meat raw. None of that would be true either - at least not wholly true. So, I'll restate. Animals have always been a major part of my life.

I've always kept pets, which is a true but stupid statement since it often felt as tho' they've kept me. I can't imagine a life without animals in it, and I know down deep in my soul that all those animals have affected my thinking, even the ones just at the periphery of my life like my uncle's mule or my grandmother's canaries, or the feed cattle grazing just down the road. I've always been convinced that animals have much to teach us, if we're only willing to watch, listen and learn. Now, there are many who would say I'm being anthropomorphic, I don't think so. I'm only acknowledging a relationship among all living things.

I've always believed we can communicate with animals. Certainly, not with words, but with thoughts. We're all made of the same bits of star dust created from atoms, only our various quota of atoms are arranged differently. We have a shared form of energy that not only binds our separate atomic arrangements but binds us together on this plane, so if we are sufficiently open in our awareness and acceptance, why would those energies not combine enough for us to glean the emotions and thoughts of each other?

There was a small book published in 1954 called, A Kinship with All Life, by J. Allen Boone, and I was fortunate to obtain a copy. The Foreword to the book contains this paragraph:

"Men and women everywhere are being made acutely aware of the fact that something essential to life and well-being is flickering very low in the human species and threatening to go out entirely. This "something" has to do with such values as love ... unselfishness ... integrity ... sincerity ... loyalty to one's best ... honesty ... enthusiasm ... humility ... goodness ... happiness ... fun. Practically every animal still has these assets in abundance and is eager to share them, given opportunity and encouragement."

The premise of the entire book surrounds the fact that humans have bought into the over-hyped bullshit that they are superior, and that they can only learn from an even more superior human. With such a pathetic attitude, it's no wonder so many people miss out on so many of life's small but vital treasures. The book is filled with wonderful glimpses into the lives of people and animals who share a bond that includes communication. Today's news contains a plethora of stories of animal assistance to humans in need, but those stories are run for their 'color' and 'human interest' rather than as what they are ... recognized instances of needs fulfilled. A gorilla protects an injured child at the zoo, a dog or cat wakes or rescues a family from a burning house, a horse intervenes between a man and a hungry cougar, a she-wolf saves and nourishes an abandoned baby. The Legend of Greystoke was not necessarily fiction.

I could enumerate various stories of my own, but will limit myself to two. One of my favorite cat companions, Girl Cat, a beautiful calico taught me a great deal. She could open most of the doors in the house, although she rarely closed them behind her, and was adept at going outdoors on her own if the locks weren't engaged. She was out one afternoon, and loath to leave her by herself when I had to go to the grocery, I tried to find her, growing more and more annoyed when she ignored my impatient summons. After being away for several hours, I returned to find her angry with me that she couldn't get in, and in cat-speak, she let me know her displeasure. We came to a very workable compromise thereafter. When I needed to be away and she was out, I simply went to the back door and thought ... can you come home now? I need to leave for a while. Moments later, she would appear, tail high in greeting, brushing my leg in entering the door. I never again had to call her. She came when she knew of my need.

In another situation, I have a small two level water feature on my back patio. Made of black vinyl surround by large rocks and plants, it attracted all types of birds and noctural animals, especially raccoons whose scampering often dislodged the rocks and who used the water to wash their food. The large patio doors in my living room look out onto that patio and on spring or fall days when the doors are open, the sound of the waterfall is soothing. One afternoon while busy elsewhere, I grew extremely tense and nervous, feeling something was very wrong but not knowing what. I searched the house finding nothing before heading to that patio door. A small wren had fallen into the deeper section of water at the base of the falls and was struggling badly, its wings soaked and unable to get out. I took only moments for me to get there, and the bird watched calmly as I reached down to scoop him into my palm and out of the water. I could almost hear him sigh in relief as he sat in my hand while I found a secure place to set him to dry out. There was no way for me to know of his problem unless he or some other animal had purposely sent out a distress call, and there was no good reason for him to be calm at my appearance unless he somehow heard my thoughts regarding his welfare and safety.

As I said, there have been many other instances in my life when I have been fortunate to be on hand and willing when a need arose. Or, even when there was a simple joy to share. I've interacted with cats, dogs, birds, tropical fish, snakes, rabbits, raccoons, possums, turtles, and even a praying mantis, although I admit to being incommunicado when it comes to wasps, bees and carpenter ants.

We humans seem loathe to remember that we are also animals. Because of that need to feel superior, a need aided and abetted by religions that espouse the foolishness of our 'dominion' over all other species, we seem embarrassed to recognize our shared origins and classification, preferring to laugh at 'the jungle out there,' or diminish the idea of curiosity being as important in us as it is in our animal brethern. We call those with murderous intent animals, we label the police pigs, we dismiss the guy down the block as a jackass, we say some woman has a horse face, or drunks in a bar laugh like hyenas, or we describe friendly, open people as social animals. The only time our animal nature is acceptable is when it comes to sex and then we speak of bringing out the beast in us, ignoring the simple fact that other animals are far more discerning and circumspect in their sexual dealings that humans.

I freely admit that I prefer animals to people. All other animals than human offer no subtefruge, no falsehood, no phoniness. They have no pretensions, no pomposity, no desire to be someone else, no facade to offer or redress in the latest fad, no tendency to kill for pleasure or oil, no propensity to stand in front of an audience and proclaim their infallibility or importance or intelligence, no need to be worshipped or idolized, no determination to prove their way is the only way. All species except humans are exactly what and who they are. Too bad for the human species that it can't say the same.

Rational Sensibilities as Freakish

Well, darn. I promised myself that I would begin posting again, but the topic choice is a muddled mix with nothing specific bubbling to the surface. I could chose something from the political spectrum which, the current climate considered, could cover apathy, lies, camouflage, corruption of both money and power, the sleaze of pork (in Alaska at the moment), or the seduction of party affiliation, ego and attention instead of the non-seduction and need of country.

Alternatively, I could chose the bias of culture and the negative impact of racism, religion, gender, or tradition. With the price of gas and food as well as the worsening global climate, I could concentrate on the potential for riots over resources or the potential for greater numbers of people sliding lower on the subsistence scale for survival. I could also simply rant and rave about the general character and achievement levels of our populace, our political process, education, consumerism, big business, and small mindedness. Hell, I could easily write about the way the media cheapens everything by appealing to emotionalism instead of good sense.

But....none of that really appeals at the moment.

Instead, I think I'll talk about freaks - a word and a concept that I abhor.

The blog community is a potpourri of the common and the unique, and I've been reading a great deal over the last year, some of those blog writers provocative, others entertaining, some educational, and some simply not worth the time. Having tasted widely of the offerings, I now have my favorites - those that intrigue me, a few that annoy me, and several that challenge my sensibilities. The blog writers share a lot of commonalities, just like all humans everywhere, even when their life choices appear drastically different or extreme. One of those adult content bloggers recently defined and accepted a shared sexual lifestyle (BDSM) as 'freakish,' encouraging other practitioners to simply accept the fact that they were and would remain freaks. I found his definition, label application and acceptance highly disturbing and have been thinking about it for weeks.

There can be little doubt that 'freak' is an extremely derogatory appellation referring as it does to the monstrous or abnormal. I'm often accused to taking things too seriously, but I find no amusement in the limitations of labels or the bumper-sticker thinking of our present culture. Only once have I laughed at the phrase 'freak show' and that was George Carlin's reference to our political arena which is too often monstrous in its actions and abnormal in its interests. To call a person or a specific group (sans politicians) freakish smacks of verbal abuse from a less than stellar intellect.

What is generally viewed as a normal lifestyle is currently called the Vanilla world for its dull and bland sameness, especially in sexual matters. Vanilla would be the prim, proper and Puritanical venue. As flavors go, vanilla is a safe acquired taste, but it can be easily boosted by application of a second spice or flavor. At the opposite extreme, any form of the BDSM lifestyle, as with other fetish oriented lifestyles, is considered edgier, more extreme, and in some cases the cutting edge at the extreme end of the world. For vanilla people, BDSM activists might be freaky, but for those same BDSM people, vanilla lovers are freaky, too, so what we have is the most ludicrous tennis game ever, with both sides trading shots called 'freak' back and forth across an invisible net named 'normal.'

Regardless of your sexual preferences or activities, everyone in our culture has been taught that life is all about choices; we are the sum total of all our choices. Yet, that lesson has not stuck for those who hastily slap a label on anyone not a clone of themselves. They restrict the right to choose to themselves and are immediately willing to penalize those who select something different. One would think that anyone who has been so judged and condemned would refrain from condemning others, but that rarely happens. It's like a food fight in the middle school cafeteria. No one wins, but there is a lot of slime.

In my opinion, consensual sexual choices are as personal as it gets, and there is nothing freakish in the option selected. Monstrous and abnormal apply to those who abuse children, and I'm not just referring to sex predators here. Monstrous and abnormal applies to all those who ignore the poverty ridden and starving among us. Monstrous and abnormal applies to those people who consciously start wars and to those who eagerly seek to benefit from them.

In our current culture, the only abnormal people are those who try to understand the choices other people make, who investigate those choices, and who might reject them for themselves yet refuse to condemn others for making them. The abnormal among us are those who are curious and introspective, who eschew standard labels, who embrace differences as having their own internal and external beauty, who willingly speak out against pre-judgments against stereotypes, who encourage others to live their lives according to their own tenets and choices as long as they do no irreparable harm.

No, the sexually adventurous are not freaks. Neither are the sexually non-adventurous freaks. Probably the only abnormal or freakish person here at the moment is me.

STILL ALIVE

Not that I had many continuous readers, but let me assure those few that any hint of my death was mythic. So, I took an 18 month vacation from blogging. So what? It didn't mean my thought process stopped. It didn't mean that conversations between all the voices in my head ceased. It simply meant the flesh was in refusal mode and the spirit was AWOL. (It also meant that my frustrations with techno speak and Microsoft won out sufficiently for me to say Fuck It.)

Anyway, I've been spending my time lately reading blogs rather than adding words to the ether of cyber world. I've been reading a great deal of cyber eroticia which means I'm very progressive, but I've reaffirmed my preference for print on paper which means I'm very old fashioned. My frugal side investigated Amazon's new Kindle reader thinking e-books would be cheaper in the long run, but their excessive price for that small wireless machine ($400!!) made me decide to shelve the idea next to all my book purchases.

This dabbling of my toes back in the water of blog world is sufficient to pass for a posting at the moment. I do, however, promise myself a true return to journaling in the next 24 hours.