So, are you able to just see the spirits like normal? Were you born with the ability? I’m sorry I know it seems like a stupid question.

blackbearmagic:

Not a stupid question at all, friend!

Rarely do I actually “see” the spirits in question. It’s kind of like… 

So, imagine you’re standing in a forest, and you hear a rasping, drawn-out scream: tskeeeer. You know that this is the call of a red-tailed hawk, and you can vaguely tell that the sound came from somewhere above, behind, and slightly to the right of you. You can’t actually see the hawk–the forest canopy is too thick, too many leaves–but you imagine that it’s a fully-grown bird with beautiful adult plumage, that it’s perched on a thick limb, and that it’s looking down at the forest floor. (Maybe it was screaming at you.) You know what the hawk would probably look like, and what it’s probably doing, and thus you create that image of it–but all you really know is that it’s there, somewhere. 

That’s how I “see” spirits like Fawn and Young Possum. I can feel their presence and know where they are in relation to me, and usually just kind of “know” what they’re doing. I don’t actually see them, in the way you’d see a tree or a rock, but I understand that they’re there.

Occasionally, I might get a strong “image” of them doing something. For example, last night as I was settling into bed, I was talking with Young Possum, and he was sitting on my hip. (I was laying on my side.) He made some remark, and although my head was on the pillow and my eyes were closed, I “saw” an image of him sitting there–specifically, his face and his open mouth as he spoke–clear as day, as if I were looking at a photo.

As for whether or not I was born with the ability… well, if I was, then it took a while to develop and bring out. I didn’t start seriously working with spirits of any sort until a couple years ago, and I’m 23, almost 24. 

In fact, the thought of doing anything like this didn’t occur to me until like 2012. That’s when I discovered the artwork of several taxidermists whose work had a strong spiritual focus. They spoke on and on about the individual spirits whose remains made up their ritual tools, headdresses, and skull collections–this one was a strong protector, this one had a playful heart, this one loved to joke around but took some things very seriously, this one was quiet and shy. I admired that and wanted to have that kind of connection with animal remains, so I took down my old red fox tail and tried to connect with it.

And that’s how I met Amber.

Connecting with her was shockingly easy, and in the months that followed, I began collecting bones and getting to know their spirits. I seemed to have a knack for communicating with them, as I would frequently get very strong impressions about a skull or pelt’s spirit within seconds of picking them up.

Encountering spirits like Fawn, the Osprey, or Young Possum is extremely new to me, and I think it’s very much linked to my current line of work. 

Working in wildlife rehab has me work side by side with death. Each time an animal is brought in to the clinic, it’s as if I hold up my hand and say to death “Wait, let me try something first.” And sometimes death steps back and allows it, and sometimes it ignores me and takes the animal. Sometimes, we get in an animal that is so wrecked and miserable that all I can do is say to death “Give me long enough to ease its pain–then, it’s all yours.” or “Let me hand this one to you personally.” (ie, euthanize it). And some of these animals just don’t seem ready to die yet, and when that happens, sometimes their spirit hangs around, and some of them “attach” to me and follow me around for a bit; I then try and find a suitable habitat to “release” them into.

This “spirit rehab” work has been extremely satisfying for me, though it’s been a while since I’ve done it. (Which is actually a GOOD thing because it means we haven’t had many animals die!) But it’s still super-new to me.

Hopefully that was a good answer!