Animals in Spirit 2

“[Animals] restore our forgotten childlike wonder at the world, and they reawaken our lost belief in magic, dreams and possibilities.” ¹

I am human.

What else could I be? I had no idea upon first being asked what my spirit animal was. I was bewildered. Being somewhat afraid of animals can do that to you.

However, once the vision quest came on and I slipped from reality into a semi-dream, semi-thoughtful state, imagining the journey the speaker described, I slowly lost my doubt. I was walking through a forest, leaves crunching beneath my feet, slim silver trunks glittering at the edge of my vision, when a warm feeling of safety caressed me. I knew something – or someone – was approaching. I continued to stroll leisurely, glancing about at my surroundings (which looked much like I imagined a mix of Lothlorien and Sherwood Forest to look) with piqued curiosity, until I felt a presence above my shoulder. It was strong, and old, and unwavering. I could feel a sort of ancient wisdom near me, and it was terrifying as well as captivating, and strangely soothing.

It was Owl.

Guardian

As I thought more and more about my spirit animal over the first few weeks of class, I noticed another presence touching me. Owl was always there, perched sometimes on my shoulder, sometimes on branches above me, but always near, a strong, watchful spirit to keep me company. However, a smaller, lighter, effervescent being was visiting me often, touching playfully upon my awareness. I was intrigued. It felt like my kindred spirit, something fairy-like and magical, and too quick for me to catch. Being my kindred spirit however, its identity could not be hidden long; when I realized what my new friend was, I knew with utter certainty that this too was my spirit animal.

It was Hummingbird.

Kindred Spirit

Having two spirit animals is helpful in the sense that there is a diverse array of knowledge to tap into. I have much to learn from both of them, but I feel that Owl serves as a guardian spirit, while Hummingbird is closer in character to my own personality.

“Owl’s voice travels far, telling of the mysteries of dreaming and the feminine…She signifies introspection, and having looked deeply into the dark and witnessed its secrets, she is a keeper of wisdom.” ²

I have always been fascinated by owls. I have an owl necklace which I wear embarrassingly often, and there is a picture of an owl on my Inspiration Wall in my room. There is an image deeply impressed in my memory, a National Geographic photograph of a snowy owl, its head swiveled to face the camera, great golden eyes piercing straight through the picture and into the viewer’s soul. I’m not certain why I remember this image – we stopped receiving National Geographic several years ago - but that straightforward, unafraid stare touched me in some indelible way. I was a naturally shy person, and the fearlessness of the owl struck me deeply. I used to watch for owls when I was a child, hoping one would bring me an invitation to attend Hogwarts. I nearly attended Rice University, whose mascot is an owl, and am now a Plan II student – the mascot for whom is also an owl! One of my closest cousins is named Athena after the goddess of Wisdom. Athena’s symbol is the owl. In hindsight, I probably could have picked the owl as my favorite animal a long time ago, but it’s difficult for me to choose a favorite animal, considering the fact that I can never get too close to one.

Owl Necklace

I have always been afraid of animals – fascinated and intrigued by their beauty, but from a distance. I loved to read about them in both fictional and non-fictional stories, but couldn’t get too near. My father once took me to a petting zoo, and while the other children delightedly cuddled the lambs and goats, I locked my arms around my father’s neck and cried. However, having the owl as my spirit animal feels completely natural. It is the animal that has cropped up in my life most often; not in person, but in spirit. Like the owl, I’m very introspective. I often sink deep into thought, letting my surroundings fall away, content to examine some issue or thought alone. I am comfortable in solitude as well as company, and my creative processes come to full fruition in the dark. The owl is a creature of the night, as am I. I am fascinated by the jet black inky quality of the night sky, the mystery and elusive spirit of the darkness, and the silky coolness of evening. This fascination becomes my inspiration.

While taking art classes, I had a lot of work to bring home. I nearly drove my father to madness when he found out how late I’d stay up working on my artwork, so I stopped informing him. My mother, another creative soul, found my odd habits completely natural. It wasn’t that I didn’t desire sleep, or that I wasn’t dead tired –  I was. But something more important, something much bigger than me took over, infused me with the energy of inspiration, and gave me no choice but to get to work. I became a creature of the night. The qualities of the dream world would flow into my artwork as well. It became very easy for me to identify with Owl once I recalled both of our affinities for the dark.

Late night inspiration

Owl is also known for its intuition and wisdom. I would not call myself wise, but I am an old soul. I feel both far older than my years, and far younger – but I’ll get to the younger part later. I am very alert and observant around people, and notice what others may not. I like to understand how people think, and therefore, observe them in ways different from what’s considered normal. This may be a sort of wisdom, because through my observation and watchfulness, I learn a lot about human nature. I tend to listen more than talk about myself and have been known to offer good advice to friends. People can come to me to talk about any issues weighing on their minds, because I don’t judge. I believe in the importance of lending a sympathetic ear. The Owl’s “gift is actually ‘soul wisdom’ more than intellectual knowledge’.” ³ Through my heightened awareness, I gain a sort of intuitive knowledge – or perhaps the experiences I observe simply enhance my instincts. Whatever the case, I’ve gained a lot of intuitive knowledge through my habits of observation. I feel this connection to the Owl is symbolized by its large, round, watchful eyes.

There is a lot I hope to learn from Owl. Owl is solid and strong and knows exactly what to do. I, on the other hand, tend to be indecisive and somewhat flighty – until I’ve settled on whatever decision my instincts direct me to.  Owl is fearless and proud, and I am not. Owl is powerful and knowledgeable and holds an ancient wisdom in its spirit, and I am honored to be guided by it. It is not a cuddly, warm creature, but its presence and steely protectiveness is comforting.

The Hummingbird, on the other hand, feels like my best friend.

Whatever the case, there is a kinship between us. I have only had one physical encounter with a hummingbird, but the creature has always held a sort of elusive fascination over me. In Evansville, when I was a child, we grew plenty of flowers and plants. Due to the lovely weather, we spent much of our time outdoors, playing rambunctiously in the backyard with our rabbits or relaxing on the patio with snacks. One day, we had the glass doors open while we ate in the kitchen, and all of a sudden, my mother spoke up in a hushed tone of awe. She’d spotted a hummingbird! I caught a glimpse of it, and was absolutely floored by its breathtaking beauty and otherworldly speed. It was a magical creature, flitting here and there in flashes of jewel bright color, partaking of the sweet nectar our plentiful flowers had to offer.

Physically, we are somewhat similar. We are both considered small in stature and perhaps a little frail or delicate in nature. We are fond of color – though I may not dress as brightly as a hummingbird, as an artist I have a deep appreciation of rich, gem-like colors. We are both quiet and loving and more than slightly intoxicated with the sheer joy of life. We both have very optimistic views, and are known for our happiness. I find that smiling is my natural state of being, and always look on the positive side of any situation. After losing that attitude at a certain point in my life, I’ve learned that there is always a silver lining to any cloud and that the important thing is to keep up a joyful outlook.

Colors burning bright

However, appearances are also deceiving. Hummingbird looks delicate, but is really a survivor. In fact, Hummingbird consumes more than its own weight in nectar, and has no fat – its rapid metabolism ensures that it is constantly in danger of starving to death. ⁴ This requires the creature to be strong and powerful in order to continue the life it so enjoys. I too, may look small and gentle, but I am also a black belt in tae kwon do. It is not a trait I reveal in everyday conversation, but the fact that I too am a survivor lies beneath my surface.

Like Hummingbird, I appreciate beauty. It spends its entire life amongst flowers, drinking the sweet ambrosia of the nectar. It is drawn to color and beauty. As an artist, I love aesthetics. I like finding beauty in conventionally ugly things and ugliness in beautiful things. I like imperfections. I am happiest when my surroundings are a source of inspiration. However, aesthetics are not only seen; they are also heard. The Hummingbird’s rapidly beating wings look ethereal and create a humming music which accompanies the Hummingbird through life. I live my life to the sound of music as well. If it isn’t physically playing somewhere near me, there will be a song in my head humming through my blood. It’s the music of inspiration, the music to which I beat my drums, the music with which I see the world.

Humming Wings

More than anything else, Hummingbird and I share a childlike sense of wonder. I often feel much younger than I am. I find it hard to believe that I am already 18 – in fact, this summer I told a stranger I was 16, before correcting myself and informing him I was in fact 17, before remembering that no, I was actually 18. I spend a lot of time around those much older than me, so I can bring out the childishness in them too. Hummingbird is free and light and carefree, and I try to be too. I don’t want to be weighed down by worries or burdened by negative thoughts. I am playful and silly, and Hummingbird is too. I am sensitive and don’t let others close to me very easily or quickly, like the delicate bird, but I love to travel and wish I could fly from place to place. I am curious about everything, and love to explore. Hummingbird spends its lifetime in the air, flitting from flower to flower, and I dream of flitting from city to city throughout the world.

Learning what my spirit animals came as a surprise to me, but once I learned more about each and discovered the connections we have, everything seemed to slide into place. It is clear that I have an affinity with flying creatures, which I actually expected. The freedom of flight and the openness of the vast sky, the ability to explore beyond the horizon and do absolutely whatever is desired have always fascinated me. It’s because I love discovery, and there are a few things I have recently discovered:

I am human.

I am Owl.

I am Hummingbird.

I am animal.

FINAL WORD COUNT

With quotations: 2038

Without quotations: 1976

MULTIMEDIA

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mVWeqAPQUXc&ob=av2n

NOTES

1. Andrews, Ted. “Animal-speak: The Spiritual and Magical Powers of Creatures Great and Small.” in Composition and Reading in World Literature, edited by Professor Bump, 63. Jenn’s Copy & Binding, 2010

2. Luttichau, Chris. Animal Spirit Guides: Discover Your Power Animal & the Shamanic Path. London: CICO Books, 2009. Print.

3. Farmer, Stephen D. Power Animals: How to Connect With Your Spirit Animal Guide. California: Hay House Inc, 2004. Print.

4. Hummingbird Metabolism: Ruby-throated “Hungrybirds.” Hummingbird: Journey North. Web. 20 Sept. 2010. http://www.learner.org/jnorth/tm/humm/EnergyTorpor.html.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

1. EcoScraps, “Smithsonian Reports Spotted Owl in Danger Again,” http://ecoscraps.com/tag/barred-owl/

2. Wouter, TrekEarth, “Hummingbrid,” http://www.trekearth.com/gallery/Central_America/Costa_Rica/East/Alajuela/Santa_Elena/photo231305.htm

3. I took this picture myself

4. Photo taken by my mother

5. My original artwork

6. lennieappelquist.com, “A Hummingbird Morning,” http://www.lennieappelquist.com/personal/a-hummingbird-morning/

Animals in Spirit

“They restore our forgotten childlike wonder at the world, and they reawaken our lost belief in magic, dreams and possibilities.” [1]

I am human.

What else could I be? I had no idea, upon first being asked what my spirit animal was. I was bewildered. Being somewhat afraid of animals can do that to you.

However, once the vision quest came on, and I slipped from reality into a semi-dream, semi-thoughtful state, imagining the journey the speaker described, I slowly lost my doubt. I was walking through a forest, leaves crunching beneath my feet, slim silver trunks glittering at the edge of my vision, and a warm feeling of safety caressed me. I knew something, or someone was approaching. I continued to stroll leisurely, glancing about at my surroundings (which looked much like I imagined a mix of Lothlorien and Sherwood Forest to look) with piqued curiosity, until I felt a presence above my shoulder. It was strong, and old, and unwavering. I could feel a sort of ancient wisdom near me, and it was terrifying as well as captivating, and strangely soothing.

It was Owl.

As I thought more and more about my spirit animal over the first few weeks of class, I noticed another presence touching me. Owl was always there, perched sometimes on my shoulder, sometimes on branches above me, but always near, a strong, watchful spirit to keep me company. However, a smaller, lighter, effervescent being was visiting me often, touching playfully upon my awareness. I was intrigued. It felt like my kindred spirit, something fairy-like and magical, and too quick for me to catch. Being my kindred spirit however, its identity could not be hidden long, and when I realized what my new friend was, I knew with utter certainty that this too was my spirit animal.

It was Hummingbird.

There is a distinction between my two spirit animals. I have much to learn from both of them, but I feel that Owl serves as a guardian spirit, while Hummingbird is closer in character to my own personality.

“Owl’s voice travels far, telling of the mysteries of dreaming and the feminine…She signifies introspection, and having looked deeply into the dark and witnessed its secrets, she is a keeper of wisdom.” [2]

I have always been fascinated by owls. I have an owl necklace which I wear embarrassingly often, and there is a picture of an owl on my Inspiration Wall in my room. There is an image deeply impressed in my memory, a National Geographic photograph of a snowy owl, its head swiveled to face the camera, great golden eyes piercing straight through the picture and into the viewer’s soul. I’m not certain why I remember this image – we stopped receiving National Geographic several years ago - but that straightforward, unafraid stare touched me in some indelible way. I was a naturally shy person, and the fearlessness of the owl struck me deeply. I used to watch for owls when I was a child, hoping one would bring me an invitation to attend Hogwarts. I nearly attended Rice University, who’s mascot is an owl, and I am a Plan II student – the mascot for which is also an owl! One of my closest cousins is named Athena after the goddess of Wisdom. Athena’s symbol is the owl.

I have always been afraid of animals – fascinated and intrigued by their beauty, but from a distance. I loved to read about them, both fictional and non-fictional stories, but couldn’t get too near. My father once took me to a petting zoo, and while the other children delightedly cuddled the lambs and goats, I locked my arms around my father’s neck and cried. However, having the owl as my spirit animal feels completely natural. It is the animal that has cropped up in my life most often; not in person, but in spirit. Like the owl, I’m very introspective. I often sink deep into thought, letting my surroundings fall away, content to examine some issue or thought alone. I am comfortable in solitude as well as company, and my creative processes come to full fruition in the dark. The owl is a creature of the night, and I am too. I am fascinated by the jet black inky quality of the night sky, the mystery and elusive spirit of the darkness, and the silky coolness of evening.

While taking art classes, I had a lot of work to bring home. I nearly drove my father to madness when he found out how late I’d stay up working on my artwork, so I stopped informing him. My mother, another creative soul, found my odd habits completely natural. It wasn’t that I didn’t desire sleep, or that I wasn’t dead tired. I was. But something more important, something much bigger than me, took over, infused me with the energy of inspiration, and I had no choice but to get to work. I became a creature of the night. The qualities of the night and of the dream world would flow into my artwork as well. It became very easy for me to identify with Owl once I recalled both of our affinities and heightened senses of awareness in the dark.

Owl is also known for its intuition and wisdom. I would not call myself wise, but I am an old soul. I feel both far older than my years, and far younger – but I’ll get to the younger part later. I am very alert and observant around people, and notice what others may not. I like to understand how people think, and therefore, observe them in ways different from what’s “normal.” This may be a sort of wisdom, because through my observation and watchfulness, I learn a lot about human nature. I tend to listen more than talk about myself, and have been known to offer good advice to friends. People can come to me to talk about any issues weighing on their minds, because I don’t judge. I believe in the importance of lending a sympathetic ear. The Owl’s “gift is actually ‘soul wisdom’ more than intellectual knowledge’” [3]. Through my heightened awareness, I gain a sort of intuitive knowledge – or perhaps the experiences I observe simply enhance my instincts. Whatever the case, I’ve gained a lot of intuitive knowledge through my habits of observation. I feel this connection to the Owl and its large, round, watchful eyes.

There is a lot I hope to learn from Owl. I tend to be indecisive and somewhat flighty – until I’ve settled on whatever decision my instincts tell me to. Owl is solid and strong and knows exactly what to do. Owl is fearless and proud, and I am not. Owl is powerful and knowledgeable and holds an ancient wisdom in its spirit, and I am honored to be guided by it. It is not a touchy-feely, warm creature, but its presence is comforting, its steely protectiveness a blanket of safety.

The Hummingbird, on the other hand, feels like my best friend. Or perhaps my twin. Or maybe the animal manifestation of me.

Whatever the case, there is a kinship between us. I have only had one physical encounter with a hummingbird, but the creature has always held a sort of elusive fascination over me. In Evansville, when I was a child, we grew plenty of flowers and plants. Due to the lovely weather, we spent much of our time outdoors, playing rambunctiously in the backyard with our rabbits or relaxing on the patio with snacks. One day, we had the glass doors open while we ate in the kitchen, and all of a sudden, my mother spoke up in a hushed tone of awe. She’d spotted a hummingbird! I caught a glimpse of it, and was absolutely floored by its breathtaking beauty and otherworldly speed. It was a magical creature, flitting here and there in flashes of jewel bright color, partaking of the sweet nectar our plentiful flowers had to offer.

Physically, we are somewhat similar. We are both considered small in stature and perhaps a little frail or delicate in nature. We are fond of color – though I may not dress as brightly as a hummingbird, as an artist I have a deep appreciation of rich, gem-like colors. We are both quiet and loving and more than slightly intoxicated with the sheer joy of life. We both have very optimistic views, and are known for our happiness. I find that smiling is my natural state of being, and always look on the positive side of any situation. Life is too short to focus on the negatives! Also, I’ve had some seriously low points in my life when I lost that attitude, and have learned that there is always a silver lining to any cloud and that the important thing is to keep up a joyful outlook.

However, appearances are also deceiving. Hummingbird looks delicate, but is really a survivor. In fact, Hummingbird consumes more than its own weight in nectar, and has no fat – its rapid metabolism ensures that it is constantly in danger of starving to death [4]. This requires the creature to be strong and powerful in order to continue in the life it so enjoys. I too, may look small and gentle, but I am also a black belt in tae kwon do. It is not a trait I reveal in everyday conversation, but the fact that I too am a survivor lies beneath my surface.

Like Hummingbird, I appreciate beauty. It spends its entire life amongst flowers, drinking the sweet ambrosia of their nectar. It is drawn to color, to beautiful things. As an artist, I love aesthetics. I like finding beauty in conventionally ugly things. I like finding ugliness in beautiful things. I like imperfections. I like being surrounded by beauty, and I decorate my environment to suit my tastes. I am happiest when my surroundings are lovely and inspiring. The Hummingbird’s rapidly beating wings are so swift they look ethereal. They create a humming sound like music, and accompany the Hummingbird throughout its life. I live my life to the sound of music as well. If I don’t have it physically playing somewhere near me, there will be a song in my head humming through my blood. It’s the music of inspiration, the music to which I beat my drums, the music to which I see the world.

More than anything else, Hummingbird and I share a childlike sense of wonder. I often feel much younger than I am. I find it hard to believe that I am already 18 – in fact, this summer, I told a stranger I was 16, before correcting myself and informing him I was in fact 17, before remembering that no, I was actually 18. I spend a lot of time around those much older than me, so I can bring out the childishness in them too. Hummingbird is free and light and carefree, and I try to be too. I don’t want to be weighed down by worries or burdened by negative thoughts. I am playful and silly, and Hummingbird is too. I am sensitive and don’t let others close to me very easily or quickly, like the delicate bird, but I love to travel and wish I could fly from place to place. I am curious about everything, and love to explore. Hummingbird spends its lifetime in the air, flitting from flower to flower, and I dream of flitting from city to city throughout the world.

Learning what my spirit animals came as a surprise to me, but once I learned more about each and discovered the connections we have, everything seemed to slide into place. It is clear that I have an affinity with flying creatures, which I actually expected. The freedom of flight and the openness of the vast sky, the ability to explore beyond the horizon and do absolutely whatever is desired have always fascinated me. It’s because I love discovery, and there are a few things I have recently discovered:

I am human.

I am Owl.

I am Hummingbird.

I am animal.

FINAL WORD COUNT

With quotations: 2018

Without quotations: 1946

ENDNOTES

[1] Andrews, Ted. “Animal-speak: The Spiritual and Magical Powers of Creatures Great and Small.” in Composition and Reading in World Literature, edited by Professor Bump, 63. Jenn’s Copy & Binding, 2010

[2] Luttichau, Chris. Animal Spirit Guides: Discover Your Power Animal & the Shamanic Path. London: CICO Books, 2009. Print.

[3] Farmer, Stephen D. Power Animals: How to Connect With Your Spirit Animal Guide. California: Hay House Inc, 2004. Print.

[4] Hummingbird Metabolism: Ruby-throated “Hungrybirds.” Hummingbird: Journey North. Web. 20 Sept. 2010. http://www.learner.org/jnorth/tm/humm/EnergyTorpor.html.

IMAGES

1. mrscjacksonsclass.com

2. trekearth.com

3. I took this picture myself

4. lennieappelquist.com

Of Perfectionism

a perfectionist at heart, drained of the joys of childhood

IMAGE SOURCE: pollsb.com

I think I can say with confidence that perfectionism is one particular trait that most Plan II students are somewhat familiar with. Whether we are still perfectionists, or have learned a healthier way to push for excellence, it is not an altogether alien concept. Suicide, on the other hand, seems to be the opposite. That is, until I read just how pervasive that thought is.

Like Ximena and Sadie, I too was an intense perfectionist. For me, this came not only in the form of my academics and view of my appearance and self, but also appeared in my creative outlets. I remember at the lowest period of my life, during some severe family issues that thankfully have been resolved long since, I developed an eating disorder. I was so used to being in some semblance of control of my life, that when all of a sudden my foundations grew shaky, I attacked my distorted bodily vision in order to regain some of that control. If my family couldn't be the perfect, ideal family I had always thought it was, then I myself would prove that I could be perfect. I did that by drastically reducing what I ate.

I'm actually ridiculously surprised at myself at writing about this, because its something I only told my best friend about last summer, but I think its important that I do so. Reading about these issues helped me gain some perspective. I'd like to be clear - I have no mental issues now. I don't think I had any at that time either. I wasn't depressed, just wildly grasping for control. I was in 8th grade, young, and ill-equipped to handle the trouble I was facing. Fortunately, my mother discovered the issue before I could take it too far - in fact, at the same time, a close friend I'd made was in therapy due to her anorexia. That also helped me stop my destructive path towards "perfection" by bringing the issue close to home and close to my heart. I began researching the problem, and armed with knowledge, learned healthier methods by which to deal with things. I shall be eternally grateful that I went through all those things at that time so as to become who I am today - hopefully a much healthier, and assuredly much happier person.

Suicide is never something that has entered my mind. However, I have had close encounters with it. My grandmother once downed a few pills too many... on purpose. She was the last person I'd have expected to consider or even attempt suicide - in fact, right at this moment, she's living a happy, contented, active life. But its safe to say that that revelation rocked MY world. The thing is, these readings dealt mostly with students dealing with depression and suicide. What happens if its your grandmother? "If someone intends to kill him/herself, s/he will communicate this either directly or indirectly" (156). My grandmother lives on the other side of the world, so I personally never had the slightest inkling what was going on. There wasn't much she could communicate to me, or anyone else, and the subject is NEVER broached in Bangladesh. Its simply a cultural stigma.  Except that this occurred in the tumultuous time that I too had a hard time dealing with, so I guess I was a bit wrapped up in things. I think what I've learned though, is the importance of reaching out. Now that I know more about suicide, and have experienced the reality of it, I know that it is vital to hold someone's hand when they feel like they're going under.  

Whoa. I feel like taking a breather - that was kind of intense stuff, and I'm still in a daze that I'm about to post this to share. However, I guess that's the nature of this subject - to provoke us into revealing what we don't usually think or talk about.

I can probably pinpoint the exact moment in my life when I decided to kick my perfectionist habit for good. Like many things, it related to my artwork. I've always been obsessed with art. I love it, and I love making it - I love the entire process of expressing myself through a visual means in a language only I can, and watching others come to interpret it in any fashion that they want. In 9th grade, I was in my first high school art class, and it was much more intense than any art class I'd been in before. I was surrounded by people with extraordinary talent, and I was becoming increasingly frustrated with my general inadequacy. The Healthy Striver "enjoys process as well as outcome" (165). I was all about outcome. I had a vision in my head, and it was a perfect mental image that I could not, for the life of me, express on paper. Nothing turned out right. I was getting stuck in what I termed 'artist's block.'

Then one day, I had a revelation. It wasn't of the angel's singing, holy light flooding down type, but more of the unlocking of your heart type. When you just realize a truth that you'd known all along. What I realized was that by pursuing perfection in my art, I was forgetting to have fun. Instead of allowing my creativity to be challenged and forced to grow, I was caging it up. One day, my teacher came around and squirted horribly incorrect tubes of paint onto our paintings. As we stared at her in shock, she shrugged cheerfully and quipped, "Work with it! Make it beautiful!"

And I did. I let go. I had fun. I made art.

This is me with 2 of my art projects in 9th grade.

Of Longhorns and Mustangs

"...the law of the wild that the Longhorn blood coursed to fulfill...(114)"

IMAGE SOURCE: practicalethics.net

I actually had had a very difficult time deciding to come to UT. It had simply never been one of my top choices, and one of the reasons was that I couldn't identify with the idea of the Longhorn as a mascot. It had nothing to do with me, and I had nothing in common with it.

I'm certainly happier than I can express in words that I chose to come to UT, and happy to be proven completely wrong about the Longhorn. I was thinking from ignorance about an animal that I now realize I had misunderstood. I had envisioned a bulky, lazy animal, but the reading THE LONGHORNS has shown me that the truth is the complete and utter opposite. It is actually the above quote, "the law of the wild that the Longhorn blood coursed to fulfill" (114) that resonated with me the most from this selection. I fell in love with the story of Table Cloth, and found myself cheering for him to search for freedom against all odds. Once he had tasted the wild, there was no going back for him. He wanted freedom, and he was going to fight for it. "He was full of the pride and energy of life" (116). Nothing would stop him, despite fifteen years of escaping the whole Shoe Sole outfit. Even the cowboys who had been so intent on capturing him now celebrated his liberty and refused to infringe upon his well-deserved life.

I found this absolute need for freedom remarkably breathtaking. I believe in the importance of choices, and the ability to make your own path in the world, to celebrate your own uniqueness without a care as to the negative thoughts of others, and the liberating feeling of marching to the beat of your own drum. I found, through Table Cloth, that this animal has the same beliefs - and that set in motion a subtle yet significant shift in my mind - I started thinking of the Longhorn as an actual animal, with thoughts and feelings and instincts similar to our own. It came off of the paper as just a symbol, a mascot, a picture, and became a being.

For some reason, I had never had trouble thinking of horses in that way, however. Especially after watching the movie "Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron" as a child (and becoming more than slightly obsessed), I fell in love with the beauty of the mustang. I devoured books such as Black Beauty, National Velvet, and Seabiscuit. I learned how to draw a horse from the tutorial on the Special Features section of the Spirit DVD, and grew to appreciate the complex beauty and grace of their bodies. Trust me, horses are remarkably difficult to draw - and one of my greatest passions is drawing! I rode a horse a couple of times through Girl Scouts, at camp. Interestingly, I always ended up with the same horse - the black one named Beauty, with a reputation for being cranky and stubborn and walking away from the line of other horses in order to find some delectable grass to chow. Despite the frustration I felt at first with her, I soon came to realize that she herself was marching to the beat of HER own drum - she was not content with merely following others for the sake of following. She was intent upon following her own destiny... and it usually involved dinner.

 Therefore, reading MUSTANGS was a nice trip back to childhood for me.

 

"I remember wild Spanish horses running over a level in Nuevo Leon, the light of the morning sun on their streaking bodies." (131)

IMAGE SOURCE: all-natural-horse-care.com

There were several powerful quotes in this section as well. Like Table Cloth, the mustang is an incredible symbol of liberty. "The true conceiver must be a true lover of freedom - a person who yearns to extend freedom to all life" (110). It is such a beautiful sight to see  mustangs giving full rein to their inner child and galloping forth as fast as they want - the sight is used as scenes in movies and in books, and there is no shortage of horses in everyday culture, as mascots for high schools and sports teams, and they are prevalent in artwork. I think a lot of this is because there is something majestic and inherently wild about the horse that really strikes a chord with people on a very basic level. You can never fully, truly break its spirit - "The look of a caged eagle [is] still in his eyes." (131) A reined and domesticated horse is not quite the same as a wild mustang, but there is always a spark of life and of the wild in its heart.

I think what I've truly learned from this reading is that every animal has a very unique ability to touch the heart of a human, whether through its story or through its innate personality. Although I've formed ideas based on a complete lack of knowledge, I know that its much wiser to learn more about something first. The Longhorn especially. 

The Windhover

"kingdom of daylight's dauphin"

What strikes me most about this poem is the importance of "morning." The repetitive use of the word in the line "I caught this morning morning's minion," then the follow up of "daylight's dauphin" imply that this time of day serves a particular significance. This period of the rising of the sun, and essentially, the birth of the day, symbolizes the dawn of a new life and way of thinking that Hopkins undergoes. The discovery of the windhover, its elegance and royalty that so deeply resonates with him, has changed his viewpoint, and he is looking out onto a new day. Soon after I realized this, I looked back at the poem and saw in tiny letters a phrase I had missed - the dedication "To Christ our Lord." This leads me to believe that Hopkins has made a religious, but more importantly, spiritual connection with the falcon. The process may symbolize an epiphany that Hopkins experienced that led to his renewed self. It is very likely that the falcon symbolizes Christ himself, which is supported by Hopkins' descriptions of royalty through the words "kingdom", "dauphin", and "valour."

It was also very interesting to note, like Sonali mentioned, Hopkins' use of alliteration. In combination with descriptions of the "rolling level" and "wimpling wing" (which translates to rippling), "swing", "sweeps smooth" and "gliding" create a very rolling, smooth sensation, as if of flight. The repetitive letters of "morning morning's minion" and "daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn" and "wimpling wing" simply roll off the tongue. This technique, of creating a sensation of being airborne, of rolling off airwaves and feeling the wind beneath one's wings evokes a visceral connection to the Falcon which Hopkins himself experienced.

The "blue-bleak embers" of the last stanza evokes a feeling of closure, of death. However, this is directly contrasted with the phrase "Buckle! And the fire that breaks from thee then" which paints a picture of vitality, and life. However, Hopkins writes that the embers "Fall, gall themselves, and gas gold-vermilion." This reminded me immediately of Alice's tumble through the rabbit hole!

"Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion."

The blue-bleak embers, devoid of the fierce, rich color of life and fire, represent death and fading away. However, the fact that they have the gall and audacity to fall, and burst open into a cascade of "gold-vermilion" (what I interpret as fire) they are renewed with life and vitality. In the same way, Alice, before she had the bold nerve to venture down the rabbit hole, and fall through the earth, was enjoying a pleasant, if easily forgettable afternoon, a day that would fade away into the recesses of her memory.  However, as soon as she descended through that fateful tunnel and fell through the earth, her life took a radical change. She came to a land positively brimming with life and color. Her life is about to gash gold-vermilion. In her childish view, she exclaims to herself, "After such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling downstairs!" (13) She has already understood on a very basic level that this experience will change her attitude towards the mundaness of the quotidian.

This all ties back in to HOpkins' expression of renewal. Like Sonali, I think his use of "Buckle" is in a sense an exclamation of connection. It connects together his experience with the frustration of being a "blue-black ember" and then experiencing a rebirth through his spiritual connection to the Windhover, and in essence, to God. He has, I think, been reborn.