Of all my blogs, on a range of subjects about the occult, the mind and the human potential, the greatest response I have received so far came from a piece discussing the important relationship between humankind and animals.
That this struck a chord was no surprise (hence the writing of the piece itself), but the scale of positive feedback certainly gave me pause for thought. The connection in question remains apparent to many people around the world, some of whom embrace it as an aspect of their spiritual life while others simply enjoy it without thought. Both groups benefit as a result, and the wild is given help to flourish by way of a rarely spoken of yet crucial symbiotic relationship, one which can be glimpsed across cultures from the earliest recorded histories.
Our very earliest ancestors may not have had a close relationship with animals, but one has existed between humanity and the animal (and natural) world for at least the last 50 million years as the forests thinned and we took to the plains – beginning to work the land and explore the life, other than our selves, that teemed upon it.
The paintings found on the walls of Cro-Magnon man’s dwellings from over 20,000 years ago are but the earliest signs we have of a fascinating response to and connection with animal life that continues to resonate today: whether in hunting beasts for food (where shamans or the like apparently dressed in their skins to draw them to their hunters, and drew self-fulfilling portrayals of the successful hunt), or attempting to fuel a spiritual connection with them in order to find protection, belonging, or indeed to emulate their remarkable abilities, humanity has enjoyed a complex relationship of attempted mastery, prostration, fear and friendliness.
The various images in France’s Pech Merle caves (c.25-20,000 B.C.E.), of horses, mammoths and bison speak of a wonder based on observation of creatures alien to us and yet recognisable through their characteristics and temperaments, and link us with that earliest appreciation for their abilities for strength, speed and flight. The representation of man as beast that can be found at Trois-Fréres, France (c13,000 B.C.E.) goes that step further, suggesting the human desire to harness the powers of the animals, to be as one with them – both for the successful sustenance of the clan through the hunt, and the means to unite with the wider world, the true wilderness, as animals so effortlessly appear to.
Animals are mystical within this understanding, even in the light of Darwinian understandings of evolution: they maintain the environment that they inhabit, are suitably stilled in the moment to hear every movement and sense every disturbance. They run faster, see further, and by simply being serve as exhibits of the best that they can be. They also happen to be uncanny, offering glimmers of prescience and empathy toward each other that are beyond normal human ken.
Unsurprisingly, many different animals have enjoyed inclusion in religious systems as gods. The cat has appeared as the Egyptian Bastet, representative of motherhood, love and fertility, the serpent as the ferocious Aztec creator god Quetzlcoatl, the monkey as the Hindu Hanuman who embodies great strength and cunning, and the bear, within various tribal faiths, as the wise spirit guide offering healing and rebirth.
It is perhaps here that a more affirming quality of the relationship can be perceived, as (despite great acclaim) the animal as employed in magical arts remains something of a vessel, a functional element that is practical rather than spiritual – whereas the totem animal, like the religious god, is so profound, so highly vaunted, that it is beyond ‘use’ and an image of such immense potential, boundless love and rage, that it remains wholly sacrosanct.
It is arguably more akin to the animal as portrayed in works of alchemy, ethereal, symbolic and spiritually transforming forms like the snake, the lion, the pelican and the fantastic phoenix that serve as guides to knowledge, guardians to the abyss and the beyond, and as revelations personified in a suitably ambiguous manner. The spirit of the animal is what lies at the core, elusive to the student but beguiling in its potency.
And here lies the rub; humanity can attempt to emulate, can seek to control on the earthly plain, but there remains the element of wonder (equal amazement and terror) that instils respect, a belief that can be seen in every continent of the ancient world and through to today, whereby the ‘otherness’ that separates us from the animal kingdom offers us something beyond the material and, more importantly, of the unknown that lies beyond us all. They are a key that might be used to unlock that which we feel is within us, the divine or soul that we know to be at the centre of our being, exactly because they are our bridge between the world and another plain – a state of being in which they revel and yet we often overlook or struggle against.
They reveal, both tribally/socially and personally, something of our selves through the manner of our relationship with them. We perceive in them their genuine beauty but also our hopes, fears and aspirations as we observe them – always seeking answers to gnawing questions within and finding animals to be superior models of our traits and drives, exemplifying in extremis our own best and worst qualities.
Thus, whether existing as a representative of our base drives (which Nietzsche would espouse as the key to a life free from cultural repression while Freud would claim to require equilibrating for a proper mental outlook to be had), or as something entirely higher and indicative of the God, gods or Goddess of creation, they are informed by us and therefore reveal on the microcosmic (human) scale just as much as they might be believed to reveal on the macrocosmic (celestial and spiritual).
My central issue is, therefore, this: though we might now be able to view animals in a still beautiful, yet scientific light – as the various wonders of biology, evolution and design that they are – how do we suffer when we remove ourselves so greatly that we only consider them from a safe vantage point (be it from our home, through the window, in magazines or on the television?) In the lack of immediacy and the coldness of purely rational, half-engaged observation, what are we failing to grasp, and what truths are we failing to acknowledge?
I hasten to add I am not advocating chasing zebras or wrestling with crocodiles, even where the Tarzan look would do wonders; rather I am declaring the need for unforced yet genuine CONNECTION with this world that can, perhaps today more than ever before, feel so distant and alien from our own. There, out and ‘at one’ with the wilds, we are brought to our knees again in awe at the spectacle, grace and indeed magic of nature. We there remember our true place in the grand scheme, and we reconnect to a relationship some thousands of years in the making. We also discover something of ourselves – a point which may sound trite but is certainly true.
This relationship was brought into being as a natural matter of course within our development as a species, and it does untold damage to us to turn away from it, to estrange ourselves and look solely within our own beings for answers when certain of the clues are indeed part of us yet outside of us, waiting to be rediscovered.
Animals do not have to be worshipped as a god for this symbiosis to take effect, nor do we need to wear their skins, move as them or perpetually surround ourselves with them – rather, they exist in such a manner that we might, when needed or desired, find and observe them and benefit as a direct result. The American naturalist William J. Long understood this all too well, taking to extremes his own manner of observation yet witnessing such acts of natural yet inspiring behaviour between beasts (including remarkable instances of ‘chumfo’ as he called it, or telepathy) that he not only came to understand animals better, but also his own place among and alongside them.
In appreciating their various qualities we can better recognise our own, and in finding our rightful place within the wild – and not as distant conquerors of it – we can discover a sense of peace and place that enables certain disclosures to be made. Such great time and effort is spent in attempting to discover the ultimate truth that we easily overlook the clues and patterns that exist around us to that very effect; this can be overcome with the least amount of endeavour, simply allowing the mind to take time, observe and gradually connect with what is but a footstep away.
Revelation is the key to all, and even small steps, so taken, can have fundamental and monumental effects on the self. Hearing the call of the wild is only the beginning…
