By Kim Pearson
Can you get practical help for real life issues from the “woo-woo” world of spirit? Yes. The language of Spirit is spoken in metaphors and parables – also known as stories. When you take a shamanic journey into the spirit realm, you will be entertained as well as taught. Here is an example of Spirit telling a simple, almost childish tale that contains profound lessons and practical advice for a real world problem. The journeyer asks, “Show me if I should quit my day job and go out on my own.”

The journeyer opens her inner eyes and finds herself seated in a canoe by the bank of a deep green river flowing through a dark forest. The canoe is traveling into the west toward the setting sun, whose rays are lighting the tops of the trees, turning them gold. The West is the land of Water where the air itself is so moist that your face always feels damp, whether you are crying or not. The West is where wet creatures live. The West is where Old Trout lives, down in the deepest depths of the river past the furthest western fork, near the mouth where the river empties into the Western Sea.

The river is full of bends and twists. She cannot see what is coming next. The canoe rolls and bobs with the current, and the shadows lengthen over the river. All she sees are trees and water, water and trees. She stands on the seat of the canoe, teetering on tiptoes and craning her neck, trying to see over the tops of the trees. But all she sees are trees and water, water and trees.

She sits down on the seat and peers into the river. And there is Old Trout himself, swimming alongside the canoe. He is enormous, longer than the canoe itself. He eyes her with the predatory look of someone very hungry. His rainbow scales shimmer pink and green, beautiful colors that call to me and make her want to dive into the water in spite of her fear.

Thump! Something jumps onto the canoe seat. It is a green frog with bulging orange eyes and long rubbery legs.

“I am Frog! I am a good bug hunter!” announces the frog, as his long red tongue darts out and catches a fly unlucky enough to be going by. “Yum,” rumbles Frog, smiling at her expression as if he would like to eat that too.

“You worry too much,” Frog informs her. “I have come to teach you how to leap like a Frog.”
Frog pulls her to her feet and they stand on the seat of the canoe. “Hold hands,” Frog commands, and grabs her hand with his long fingered green one. It feels cool and damp and sticky.

“Now stretch those toes,” he directs, and she feels her toes stretching, stretching, until they are as long as frog toes. She splays them out wide and presses them hard into the seat of the canoe, anchoring herself firmly.

“Bend your knees,” calls Frog, and they squat down low. “Now thrust upward and stretch!” Frog says, and they stretch their legs out to the farthest length they can go, which to her surprise is very far indeed – she can see the tops of the trees!

“Squat again down low,” says Frog, and they go down again. “Now up again,” he calls, and up they go, this time stretching even further – now she can see over the trees.

“Down!” says Frog, then, “Up! We are getting ready to jump. Practice! Practice!”

Up Down, Up Down, Up Down they go, practicing. When they go up she sees the course of the river, which is getting closer and closer to the Western Sea. They are approaching the mouth of the river. Old Trout is still swimming by the canoe, his tail fin moving back and forth, back and forth.

It is nearly dark by now, but on an upward stretch she suddenly sees a big, white, gleaming Cruise Ship sailing over the Western Sea. The Cruise Ship is decorated with bright twinkling lights that are reflected on the waves. Sparkling dance music echoes over the water.

“Okay,” says Frog. “We have practiced, and now we are ready. We are going to jump! We are going to jump right onto that Cruise Ship.”

“Are you kidding?” she says in alarm. “We can’t jump that far – over the trees, over the water, over the river mouth, high up onto the top deck of that huge ship!”

“Oh, I think we can,” says Frog. “In fact, we must. It’s the only way home.”

Old Trout gives a shiver of delight from his position alongside the canoe. “Old Trout is there,” she says, pointing him out to Frog.

“Yes,” says Frog, nodding. “We must jump well. We must jump high and long. If we miss the Cruise Ship, we will fall into the river, and then Old Trout will gobble us, for sure. So it’s important not to miss.” He smiles, wiggling his long red tongue.

“Grab hands!” orders Frog, pulling her to her feet. “Up!” he calls, and they stretch up. “Down,” he calls, and they squat low. “Okay,” he says, “This is it. At the top of the Up stretch, release your toes and leap!”

Her heart pounds, but she holds tight to Frog’s hands, and they go Up, stretch stretch stretch, and at the last possible moment she releases my toes and pushes off. They sail through the sky, over the trees, over the mouth of the river, up up up to the top deck of the Cruise Ship, and land, safely on deck.

There is a party going on at the Cruise Ship. People are dancing to Salsa music, wearing flowers and ribbons, drinking party drinks, laughing and talking and making party noise. She and Frog join a Conga line, cha-cha-cha-ing around the deck. The party is ending, and soon all the people dance and laugh their way to bed, leaving them alone on the top deck of the Cruise Ship.

It is completely dark now, and the vast moon rises, full and sweet, and hangs low over the deck. They stretch out on some deck chairs, relaxing and gazing at the beautiful moon.

Frog is totally entranced by the Moon. He gazes at her with love and longing. His eyes bulge even bigger, his mouth falls open, and his long red tongue lies limply on the deck. Suddenly he gives voice to a full, loud, throaty CROAK, which echoes over the Western Sea.

The Moon expands when she receives the Croak. She opens her mouth wide and responds with a croak of her own, which is so vast and booming it makes the deck chairs clatter on the deck and the glass windows shiver.

Frog jumps out of his deck chair and leaps to the white railing of the ship. “Croak!” he calls, in a voice even louder than before. His croak streaks across the sky and the Moon swallows it with a gulp.

“CROAK!” she booms back, and this time the windows of the Cruise Ship shatter, tinkly sounds harmonizing with the echoes in the croak’s wake.

Frog’s knees bend, and he squats down low, low. Then he stretches up high, high, his spatulate toes gripping the deck rail; and then down again, low, low.

He is practicing.

And then with his greatest and loudest croak yet, Frog springs high and releases his toes. He and his croak leap through the air toward Moon.

Moon expands until she seems to fill the Western sky.

“CROAK!” she thunders, and her mouth opens wide, showing her deep mysterious black inner self. In flies Frog triumphantly, and Moon shuts her mouth and swallows him. Frog is gone.

The Cruise Ship sails on through the night. It is heading East toward morning, away from the West and the creatures of the Water. Where Old Trout is no doubt waiting still.

Well, that’s a nice story, isn’t it? But what does it mean? Does it answer the journeyer’s question, “Should I quit my day job?” Yes, it does.

First, she is told to get a teacher, someone who knows how to leap. Frog appears and tells her not to worry, that he is here to teach her how to leap like a frog.

The second lesson is to get an overview of the situation, to see beyond the immediate present. Frog teaches her to stretch so she can see the entire river system and the Western Sea.

Third, don’t minimize the dangers. Yes, Old Trout is really there, and he is probably hungry.

Fourth, practice your new skills in a safe place. Frog and the journeyer practice squatting and stretching many times, before actually jumping.

Fifth, aim high, even if it seems to be impossible. Jump onto a Cruise Ship, or even to the Moon.

And sixth, when you are ready and have done your preparatory work, let go and leap in spite of your fear.

Animal spirit guides do not play by human rules or live by human logic. But by journeying in their realms, we can bring back their wisdom and apply their gifts to our lives. By the way, the Journeyer was me, and I did indeed quit my day job and go out on my own, as a freelance writer. Old Trout hasn’t eaten me yet.

Article Source: http://www.articles3k.com

*Kim Pearson is an author and ghostwriter who has ghostwritten or edited more than 30 non-fiction books and memoirs, plus authoring 7 books of fiction, poetry and non-fiction of her own.