Conspiracy of Love

Blessed is the season,

which engages the whole world

in a conspiracy of love. 

~Hamilton Wright Mabie

Can you feel it—the warm fuzzy glow of good cheer building from the first turkey dinner, jingle-belled advertisement and beautifully wrapped vision of holiday bliss, and reaching a crescendo as we join our families and friends to celebrate the season?  Giddy with the holiday spirit, we’re just a little more kind and a little more forgiving as we move through the days filled with anticipation of . . .

Of what?  What are we looking forward to?  What are we expecting?  What do we really want? 

Kids seem to know with surprising clarity.  “I want an American Girl doll!” “I want a new bike!” “I want chocolate chip cookies!” “I WANT MY MOMMY!”  But how many of these wants are truly needs?  Do they even recognize the difference?  Rarely.  In watching kids flit from one toy to the next we see right through their fly-by-night passions, reaching for this and grabbing for that. 

We forget that adults are not so different, except that we use these long, detailed explanations to rationalize our dubious choices, cleverly disguising the pretenses of our decisions even from ourselves sometimes.  We reach for this and long for that then reach for something else.  Sometimes we get what we want.  And sometimes we reach for what we think we really want only to get it and later discover that it wasn’t so great after all.  Maybe things have changed since we began wanting what we want and we find that it’s no longer relevant when it arrives.  And sometimes when we don’t get what we want it makes us want it even more; an unrequited passion not so easily extinguished.  But how much of what we say we want do we truly need?

Perhaps at the root of every desire is a basic longing—to connect, to love, to be at peace; the hunt for comfort and joy.  Remember this as you move through Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Christmas, and look for ways to connect with the root of your longing.   

Try this: 

1. Volunteer!  Get out of yourself and give back to your community!  As Rumi says, there are a thousand ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

2. Keep it real!  No holiday is perfect and few celebrations rarely resemble the cozy gatherings depicted in commercials and our favorite programs on television.  If your family dynamic has changed or tradition is too hard to satisfy, don’t be afraid to do things a little different each year! Get rid of the pressure!

3. Take some time for yourself!  Give the gift of your presence.  You can’t be there for others in any real way if you’re not there for yourself so slow down, take a nap, read a book, get a massage, and take some time to reflect on where you’ve been, where you’re going and what you’re thankful for.

4. Remember what’s important.  It’s easy to lose sight of why we’re doing what we’re doing when we’re so busy baking and buying and wrapping and coming and going.  Take some time to connect with the real reason for the season.

Succumb to the conspiracy of love and you just might find that what you’re looking for has been with you all along.

P.S.  Thanks for sharing the quote Mom!

An Unlikely Pair

I destroy my enemies when I make them my friends.

~Abraham Lincoln

“You listen here girl, I don’t know what kind of little lawyer games you think you’re playing, but you’re running with the big boys now!”   He boomed through the phone in response to my letter requesting that he produce certain documents to support our client’s deal.  Red-rage raced through my body, from the scalp down, touching my ears, and setting my chest on fire.  How dare he speak to me this way, this two-bit, good old boy lawyer!

Only two years out of law school, I had been thrown into the fire with this deal to help my client purchase a restaurant and nightclub from a well-known business owner represented by none other than this J. Don Ridell, Esquire, now on the phone yelling at me!  What I wanted to do was rip that guy a new one!  Jump up and down and pound him on the head; tell him that I was a lawyer just the same as he and defend my right to vigorously represent my client. 

Perhaps because we didn’t have the luxury of time to dicker over such trivial things, and I didn’t want to get fired, somehow, I found the will to simply restate my request.  “No games here.  My client wants to buy your client’s business and they want to close fast.  Now my guy wants me to give this deal my blessing and I’m not going to do it until you turn over those stock certificates and the corporate books.”  Click.  He hung up on me. 

I seethed.  I knew I wasn’t over-lawyering this stock purchase.  If anything I wanted to slam on the breaks, take our time; what’s the rush?  But they had an agenda and I knew I would be committing malpractice if I didn’t do some basic due diligence.  So I stuck to my guns and called my client to tell him where we stood. 

An hour later Mr. Ridell begrudgingly called back and told us to be at his office by noon.  I had heard stories of this J. Don Ridell and other rogue lawyers who had had the run of the place long before it became a resort town with high-rise condominiums, nightclubs and top law firms.  A criminal lawyer by trade, he was stepping up to handle a stock purchase for his best client, but until that moment I had never met him or had any dealings with him.  Intimidated, I packed my briefcase and headed to his office.

I saw his boots first, wingtip leather all shined up with some fancy studs on them; and as my eyes traveled up to the top of his six foot-five head, I saw his jeans with matching studded belt buckle and bolo tie—the consummate cowboy, this one—made evermore complete by a headful of white hair and small strips of surgical tape in the corners of both eyes supported by bruised, swollen pockets beneath.  I relaxed a little, breathed deep, somehow comforted by the idea that this big bad man had just had a little cosmetic surgery.  He sized me up in my expensive little lawyer suit and off we went to his conference room, with barely a word between us.

As it turned out, his client didn’t own the stock after all because he had transferred it all to his 20-some grandchildren who were scattered, along with the stock certificates, all over the country.  We wouldn’t be closing any time soon, that was certain, but for the first time, appearances and judgments aside, we began working together to make this deal happen.  

Later, we walked downtown to discuss pay-off of the business loans with the bank, only to return to a locked office.  Brilliant!  What now?  My briefcase and car keys were inside, so I had to stick around and help him break into this one-story-brick-ranch-styled-home-turned-office.  Sure, the ice had thawed between us that afternoon, but I wasn’t prepared to shove his Wrangler-wearing butt through the conference room window.  

There he was, stuck and distressed, bossing me around from that awkward bent-at-the waist-crunch position he was sort of hanging in with one leg touching the office floor and the other bent at the knee, jammed in the window sill by that wingtip boot.  I tried to contain myself but soon lost control to my laughter.  I was laughing so hard and crying and pretty much useless to help this guy.  Then he started laughing too…and farting…there, stuck in the window, which made me laugh even harder; him too.  Yet something in his jolly laughter dislodged him from the window and he fell to the conference room floor.  Within minutes I was in the office collecting my things and thanking him for an interesting afternoon.

We closed the deal—everyone was happy—and a real fondness had grown between Mr. Ridell and me in the process.  But I never saw him again until the year that I served as president of the local bar association, hosting an event for our judges and winding up my tenure there.  He made me cry with his compliment, he actually praised my mind and told me that working with me on that deal had changed him.  He apologized for being such a jerk.

This fabulously crazy encounter between a cowboy barrister and a little lawyer girl became one of my great lessons, again reminded that things are not always as they seem.  We think people are one way and they turn out to be quite different.  We make quick judgments based on superficial things and think we know all there is to know about each other, but we don’t.  Yet if we’re open and willing to be surprised, and laugh at our differences, we just might find ourselves part of an unlikely pair.

____________

** Names have been changed.

FALLING IN LOVE ROCKS!

Even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. 

Even as he is for your growth 

so is he for your pruning.

Even as he ascends to your height and 

caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, 

So shall he descend to your roots

and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself. 

He threshes you to make you naked. 

He sifts you to free you from your husks. 

He grinds you to whiteness. 

He kneads you until you are pliant; 

And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, 

that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.

All of these things shall love do unto you 

that you may know the secrets of your heart, 

and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.

~Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

"Falling in Love Rocks!"
Roadside, Boulder Canyon.
(c) 2012 Melissa Johnson.

Last year while visiting my family in Virginia, my sweetheart and I had an opportunity to spend the afternoon in my grandfather’s basement. A mixture of Salvation Army this-and-thats, tools, books and World War II memorabilia, you didn’t have to know him to see his reflection in that downstairs room.  We spent hours rummaging through his things, speculating about what drew him to one item or another, as we shared tales of a life well lived. 

Then we found it, there in a drawer; his military issue handgun.  Not surprising given Grandpa’s affinity for antique military weaponry, but there just under the clear coat handle was a gorgeous, flirty photo of my Grandmother on one side, and a picture of the two of them lip-locked on the other.  I couldn’t take my eyes off the thing, transfixed by the paradox: Images of a life-enhancing love permanently affixed to a weapon of death and destruction.  Why?

“Don’t you see?” Kevin said, holding the gun in the palm of his hand.  “It’s a statement about his love.”  I still didn’t get it.  “Think about it…what did he live for?  What would he die for?  What would he defend?” 

I never really understood that kind of love until that moment.  I had dreamt of it, longed for it, read every relationship self-help book on the market and tried to convince myself that I'd found it, with no lasting effect.  But there in the basement, sharing that quiet moment, I got it. I knew that I would walk the line for him and I had no doubt he would do the same for me.  He already had. 

Our path has not been easy, especially in the beginning as we faced challenges that rocked us to the core, but our love has grown through the cracks of early disappointment.  Instead of running away we held fast to each other, strengthened by our shared experience of that which we couldn’t explain.  These became our building blocks; the foundation of our life together.  

We're planning a New Year's Eve wedding this year, a black tie affair with family and friends. I couldn't be more thrilled!  And as I reflect on how we got here from there, I am reminded that even when enduring our greatest struggles, being together has been mostly easy. Like falling rocks, we hit the ground and break apart sometimes but our pieces grow stronger and we become more of who we are. Not for the faint of heart.

CAUTION:  Falling in love rocks! 

You're So Critical!

Any problem, big or small...

always seems to start with bad communication.

Someone isn't listening.

~Emma Thompson

Sohbet (c) MJohnson 2011.

“You’re so critical!” he said to her, driving home from dinner that night. It was a moment—just words—that could have derailed their evening together had she assumed the worst. But she wanted to understand him; she always wanted to understand, so she asked, “What do you mean?” Then she listened.

Turns out, he meant that she was critical to him, to their relationship, to their peaceful life together. A very different “critical” than she had at first imagined.

An example so simple but so profound, with the power to shift our understanding of the way we communicate and perceive each other. Yet how often do we nearly kill ourselves jumping to conclusions?

I’ve seen it in friendships and partnerships; in the boardroom, the bedroom and in the courtroom. I’ve done it—selectively listened and assumed the worst—and I’ve watched with horrified amazement as others have done it too. I’ve witnessed folks come together for the right reasons and with the best intentions only to walk away from their common cause because what they heard and focused on was how far apart they were instead of how very closely aligned their interests had become.

There have been missed opportunities, hurt feelings, lawsuits, and, yes, even wars over the way we communicate and respond to crisis. We’ve ruined perfectly good times with loved ones because we’re so busy making assumptions about what they did or said or meant rather than assuming the best of their intentions and bridging the gap between our hearts. Misunderstandings have escalated into full-blown battles because we’re caught and entangled in our comforting but destructive habit of choosing to be offended.

But we’ve also created thriving businesses, communities, relationships and families through our conscious communications. We’ve expressed love, hurt, excitement and joy, and we’ve shared our plans and desires as others have heard us and responded in kind. What a relief to be heard and understood!

Sufi mystics describe this connection as “sohbet.” Though a bit difficult to translate in English, this word—pronounced “so-bet”—speaks of a different kind of conversation. It involves deep listening between the heart and spirit. It refers to a way of communication that is more than just words; it is, in essence, the transmission of one’s heart to another in conversation. But it’s even more than that, for true sohbet encompasses the many silent conversations taking place each moment between every living thing in the cosmos, and it is believed that those with ears attuned to the inner heart can hear these subtle exchanges.

True sohbets can be so powerful that those involved can bring about incredibly deep understanding in a very short period of time, much quicker than prayer and meditation alone. So significant is this to our highest way of being in the world that most every spiritual tradition describes a version of this “great listening”—Christians, Hindus, Muslims, Buddhists, and many Native Traditions—where we are encouraged to listen deeply and respond with the whole heart. And though many speak of listening to Spirit as the highest directive, this wisdom translates well into our relationships. Imagine what we could accomplish if we brought this practice to our business and personal affairs!

But to reach the level of sohbet, we have to put away our cell phones and laptops, video games and DVDs, turn off the television and tune into each other—eye to eye—and really connect with the truth of the heart and all that it reveals. That’s where the magic happens.

So as we move into this magical holiday season, giving thanks for all that is, why not give the gift of sohbet.  Be that person who seeks to understand before demanding to be understood, and there in that space discover the truth of just how critical you are.

Not All Who Wander Are Lost

No tree has branches so foolish

as to fight amongst themselves.

~Ojibwa Saying

When teaching pre-law students the finer points of logical reasoning, there is a type of argument I like to call “Resolve & Explain.”  In it we are presented with a set of facts that appear to be self-contradictory yet in reality they express a possible truth, and we’re asked to resolve and explain this discrepancy.  The correct answer choice will always be that piece of information that explains how both sides of the contradiction can be true at the same time.  Oh the paradox!

Can you imagine it—the ability to hold opposing thoughts in your mind at once and allow them both to be true?  Without feeling threatened by what the other “truth” may mean to your own?  It’s a fascinating way of viewing the world and no easy task; especially when you consider how we cling to our positions. 

Nowhere is this more pronounced than in our world’s religions.  Take for instance the recent showdown in the media between Mitt Romney and his rival, Texas Governor Rick Perry, following senior Baptist minister and Perry supporter Dr. Robert Jeffress’ commentary that Romney wasn’t a true Christian and that Mormonism is a cult.  Oooh, wee!  Can’t you just hear the Bible-thumping going on down there deep in the heart of Texas!  And the presidential race is just getting started…

Consider my Christian friends who feel it their duty to “convert” others to Christianity; or my Muslim friend who believes that Jesus, a high profit, was born to the Virgin Mary but considers it a “blaspheme” to say that Jesus was the “Son of God” because God is Spirit and Spirit can’t have sexual relations.  What tiny little hairs are we splitting here, and what does that really have to do with the core tenements of leading a spiritual life:  faith, hope, love and kindness?

Or consider my father’s deeply held conviction that all those who don’t believe in the Trinity—father, son, Holy Spirit—will, in fact, burn in hell.  What about those who simply choose the path of peace and kindness and live out that example every day?  What of my Bible-quoting, God-fearing colleague who claims astrology to be “the Devil’s work” anytime anyone makes mention of a horoscope or “guidance” from the stars, yet, wait a minute… weren’t the Three Wise Men guided by the stars to Bethlehem on the night of Jesus’ birth? 

Even within certain groups there are smaller and smaller divisions based on opportunity and belief.  Bucket-loads of money are spent every year securing our relative “stakes” in the community and the world at large, convincing others to join us in our way of thinking.  Like the recent string of commercials showing the everyday lives of people who call themselves Mormon, illustrating that they are, in fact, quite normal folks just like you and me lest you buy into Dr. Jeffress’ attempts to color them cult-like.

Take a look around; examples abound.  If we are to have any chance of creating a world that works for everyone, we must ask ourselves:  What is that piece of information that will allow both sides of the contradiction to be true?  That Mormons and Baptists are basically good?  That Muslims and Christians are right?  That two folks who believe different things—one in the Trinity, the other simply in kindness and compassion—will both arrive at the same place in the end?

I ask and I ask and I ask, and I keep coming back to this answer:  There is only One source from which all of life flows.  We, us, them—we are but different expressions of the One, energetically speaking; molecules in motion dancing endlessly through time.  We can split hairs with semantics; divide ourselves in to smaller and smaller pieces of One pie; make “them” wrong so we can be “right” and duke it out in very public and heated debates that will never bring anymore clarity than this.

We came from One and, in the end, to One we shall return.

Monkey Business

Everything

in this world

has a hidden meaning.

Men, animals, trees, stars,

they are all hieroglyphics.

~Nikos Kazantzakis

Monkey Business (c) MJohnson.

I was never one to carry around a camera, and I never really understood those who did.  I mean, why not live the moment instead of trying to freeze it in time?

Even when traveling abroad, I carried a cheap digital camera, at best; sometimes, a plastic, disposable one, feeling obligated to return with proof of my journey.  Often the pictures were grainy or out of focus, and sometimes the subject was so far away that, when printed, the photo made no sense.  Just so, good camera equipment seemed to me yet another thing to keep up with on my mission to travel light.  Besides, how could a one-dimensional photograph ever capture the magic and beauty of my multi-dimensional experience?  At least that's what I thought . . .

Then a fabulous holiday in Bali and a little monkey business changed everything…

Monkey Business (c) MJohnson.

They came from the Ayung River Valley--from behind bushes, swinging from trees--wild monkeys running toward me from the dense tropical vegetation surrounding my mountain villa.  One-by-one they came, more than a dozen in the clan, and as they played on the terrace railing I photographed them.

My friend called me the Monkey Counsel.  He said they came to tell me of their endangered habitat and share with me their monkey ways.  I think he was right. 

I dared not feed them, but I welcomed them with sincerity and a pledge of non-violence.  I talked to them like any old friend, watching their gestures and listening to their chatter; trying to intuit what they might be saying.  We were very different but we understood each other well.  They reminded me to play, which I did; and they stayed, greeting me each morning as I read the paper on the terrace and again in the evening when I returned from a day of exploring.  We definitely had some moments—me and those monkeys--that fed my zoological curiosity and forever changed my mind about photography. 

Soon after, I began to rearrange my life.  I relocated to the mountains of Colorado.  I invested in some quality equipment, including a professional camera with an extra-zoomy lens.  I studied art and photography.  I read voraciously on issues of human rights and wildlife conservation.  I started working with animal and human rights groups dedicated to finding global solutions.  And as I learned the art of Animal Speak, they all came out to play.

Before long, I found myself engaging in paparazzi-like behavior as I followed my new friends around in the yard; hiding behind big Spruce trees, lying in wait behind rock outcroppings, patiently surveying the land at dusk and dawn, all in the name of the ungettable-photo-get.  (Don't try this at home kids.) 

Who knew that I would share this land with so many amazing four-legged and winged friends?  I love my neighbors.  They are patient, fascinating creatures, and they teach me the secrets of the land.

For instance, a visit from bear reminds us to call on our powers of introspection to help bring balance to our lives, drawing on bear’s most noted habit of hibernation.  Coyote lurking about can signal the ways in which we may be tricking ourselves or others, or herald the arrival of unwelcome news.  Rabbit hopping across our path encourages expression of our creativity or speaks to the fears we carry with us through life, reflecting her most paradoxical characteristics of abundant creator and fearful animal of prey.  Hummingbird reminds us to drink in the sweet nectar of life.

Our Native Ancestors call this “animal medicine,” encouraging us to look at the very qualities, habits and characteristics of an animal from which we may draw strength and wisdom, for there we find great lessons on how to harmonize our world.

  

And it was through this lens that I looked for bobcat’s wisdom when she came round a couple of weeks ago.  There I was in my bedroom trying on suits, hoping to pull together a polished look for an important meeting the next day, when this mysterious beauty caught my eye.  She was sitting on the top step just outside the French doors leading from my bedroom to the back yard. 

Slowly, I approached, moving towards her like a cat so as not to startle or chase her away.  And there I laid belly down, with my face just inches from the glass.  She looked at me, then moved closer, touching her little bobcat nose to the door.  I couldn’t believe my eyes, but there she was.  And when she crawled onto a neighboring rock and lounged, crossing her paws all lady-like, I watched with anticipation for what might happen next.

Minutes later, she rose slowly from the rock, looking in the grass below, and pounced with precision, returning to the top step with a furry little four-legged treat, which she ate in three bites while looking at me through the glass door.

Whatever else she may symbolize, I viewed it as a message of encouragement and a reminder to be patient with my process of change.  Fear and immaturity will not serve me now.  Rather, I need to be in it for the long haul and persevere in my efforts to forge this new path—one where I seek to blend my business and legal interests with my passion for creativity, philanthropy and value-driven social change.  No small task, to be sure.  But this bobcat reminded me to slow down, look carefully and then move with confidence.

Looking back, my life is very different now than when I first began my career.  Today, I’m a different kind of lawyer, finding inspiration in both man’s law and in the universal wisdom left behind in the delicate footprints of nature.  And to think it all started with this monkey business . . . animal medicine, indeed.

Secrets of the Land

SECRETS OF THE LAND (Bonus Version) by Melissa E Johnson | 

What would our four-legged and winged friends say to us if they could speak?  Or consider the wisdom of a flower, rock, tree, or waterway.  They all have secrets to share, inherent in their nature, and I bring them to you now in this unique collection of wildlife portraiture, storytelling and botanical beauty.  With more than 130 wild images and musings of my natural curiosity, “Secrets of the Land” will delight and inspire nature lovers and wildlife enthusiasts of all ages.   

This is a large coffee-table-style-photography-book.  It makes a great conversation piece and fabulous gift!  

And a portion of all sales proceeds will be donated to various wildlife conservation and rescue organizations in the U.S. and abroad.

Calling All Bears...

When a pine needle falls in the forest,

the eagle sees it; the deer hears it,

and the bear smells it.

~Old First Nations Saying

To our four-legged, woolly bear friends,

We owe you an apology. Truly, we’re sorry. Please forgive us for forgetting that you will always do what is in your nature to do. In our negligence, we have endangered your very survival.

You see, in our effort to be organized and keep our space clean, sometimes we put our trash outside the night before a scheduled pick-up, rather than waiting until the morning of. And sometimes, in our laziness, we dump leftovers in the trash and leave our bags by the door with every good intention of taking it to the dump or putting it in a trash can the next time we go out to the garage. Then we forget.

But in forgetting, we have forgotten you . . . we have forgotten that you are waking from your winter slumber, hungry, in search of food. And we have forgotten that you, like us, often take the path of least resistance—why forage for berries, fruit and nuts when a fabulous dining extravaganza is laid before you in a Hefty cinch-sack?

And in our love of nature—in our desire to attract and visit with our winged friends—we put out our bird feeders, hanging low from trees, filled to the brim with delicious seeds and sugary-sweet nectar, without considering what a challenge it is for you to turn away from that which you most desire. Willpower is not your strong suit.

Yet we unknowingly reward you for fearlessly exploring human places, turning our bird feeders into bear feeders and giving you a false sense of security around humans; a deadly lesson for you indeed, leaving you vulnerable and exposed to human conflict; at worst—euthanasia.

As with many life lessons hindsight is our great teacher. Now we know that if we change certain aspects of our behavior, with you, our bear friends, in mind, we will help reduce human-to-bear conflict and possibly save your lives.

So from now on, we promise you this:

Never again will we forget how very smart, curious, and resourceful you are, the way you follow your sensitive noses—smelling food five miles away—returning again and again to lucrative food sources.

From mid-March through early November, we will commune with our winged friends in less intrusive ways. We know that it’s best not to feed the birds when you’re out and about but, if we do, we promise to bring in our feeders at night—before sundown—or hang them at least ten feet out of your reach. And we promise to be vigilant in our clean-up efforts, keeping the area beneath our feeders clear of debris.

We promise always—ALWAYS—to remember these four rules of trash storage:  (1) Store trash in air-tight containers; (2) Set out trash on the morning of pick-up only; (3) Wash all disposable food containers with soap and water; and (4) Periodically wash-out our air-tight trash cans with a solution of bleach or ammonia and water.

We know you’re tempted by smells—that’s why it’s better that we freeze our smelly food trash and put it in the garbage on the morning of pick-up—but, hey, we’re human and sometimes we get busy or forget. We acknowledge that any action to protect you—even if not perfect—is better than no action at all. So at a minimum we pledge to set out our trash on the morning of pick-up only, having washed our disposable food containers and stored trash in air-tight, bear-proof cans.

And we promise not to tempt you with anything that has an odor (food, beverages, scented candles, air fresheners and toiletries)—keeping our bear-accessible doors and windows in our homes and vehicles closed—even when we’re hanging out at home.

The mountains have always been here

and in them the bears.

~Rick Baas, from The Lost Grizzlies

It’s a challenge to stay one step ahead of you, but we know it’s our responsibility. You are our mountain neighbors, and you were here first—long before the first pioneers arrived. And our human behavior determines your fate. As they say up here on the mountain, “A fed bear is a dead bear.”

We know that if you exhibit aggressive bear behavior because you’re a bit too comfortable in human places—breaking into our homes, attacking people or lingering in our school yards—you will be considered a threat and you will be killed.  And we’ll have your blood on our hands.

So please take your cue:  If we should encounter you face-to-face in all your bear glory, hanging round our homes or campsites, we promise to scare you away—clapping our hands, blowing a whistle, yelling, or banging on pots and pans—not because we don’t like you, but to preserve your people-wary nature and save your life.  Please don't be offended ... just run along and get back to your hunting and foraging ways.  And we’ll do our part to keep you safe.

This is our promise to you.

With much love,

Your Two-Legged Friends

____________________________________________

To take the “Keep Bears Wild Pledge,” or to speak to a Bear Aware Volunteer, contact the Colorado Division of Wildlife, Denver office, at (303) 297-1192. Learn how to bear-proof your home by visiting www.wildlife.state.co.us/bears or www.state.co.us/bears. Or look for similar programs in your state. Educate yourself.  Protect our wildlife.

All photos and content © 2008-2010 by Melissa Johnson. For e-mail subscribers, if you’re having problems viewing this article and photos, click here HEART LAW to link to the blog home page. Thanks for reading!

Call of the Wild

If you talk to the animals

they will talk with you

and you will know each other.

If you do not talk to them,

you will not know them,

And what you do not know you will fear.

What one fears one destroys. 

~Chief Dan George

Eye of the Tiger ~ Photo by MJohnson © 2009.

Not so long ago, I had the great fortune to learn of a sanctuary for exotic wildlife located practically in my backyard—the Wild Animal Sanctuary in Keensburg, Colorado, just on the other side of Denver—so I went there to visit these four-legged friends and see what the rescue was all about. And there I found a refuge beyond my wildest expectations, a world-wide movement of recovery, healing and hope.

Play Therapy by Wild Animal Sanctuary.

Driving into the facility, situated on some 320 acres in the middle of nowhere, I felt as if I were driving through the rolling grasslands of a real African safari, passing acres of wild animal habitats on either side of the graveled road until I came upon the large, temperature controlled, round-house facility, centrally located on the property and designated as the educational center and receiving area for newly rescued animals. This is the first point of rehabilitation—fabulously staged playgrounds and swimming pools—where the abused animals are allowed to recuperate, play and readjust to life before being integrated into their new habitats.

Walking Wounded:  African Male Lion ~ Photo by MJohnson © 2009.

And it was here that I learned the truth about the Captive Wildlife Crisis facing many lions, tigers, bears, leopards, jaguars, wolves and other exotic animal friends that find themselves out of their element and living in basements and backyards of private homes as a result of the careless attitudes and behaviors of another great species—the human. I had no idea how serious the issue was.

The problem looks like this: Man has a great desire to study wildlife and understand these rare and often endangered creatures from far and distant lands. Teams are sent out to capture these fascinating animals for public zoos around the world where everyone can enjoy them. But it doesn’t stop there, for in an effort to increase zoo attendance, more and more animals are captured then bred, producing cute and precious little baby animals that draw large crowds of zoo-goers, but which ultimately endangers their lives; for these exotic captive populations grow beyond what is manageable and sustainable and, soon, the zoos either have to euthanize their captives or sell them to private animal traders to keep populations in check.

Spotted ~ Photo by MJohnson © 2009.

These careless practices pave the way for breeding, commercialization and abuse. Some people even think they can keep these great cats as house pets! Insane, right? But prevalent; so the issues of licensing and the humane care and treatment of captive wildlife present additional problems to contend with.

Black Bear in the Wild ~ Photo by MJohnson © 2008.

That’s where the Wild Animal Sanctuary comes in. This 501(c)(3) non-profit organization is committed to exotic animal rescue, care and public awareness through education. They take in these “cast-off, unwanted, abused, abandoned and exploited wild creatures which man brought into civilization, bred and profited from, and no longer has use for.” And they’re really making a difference.

As I explored the sanctuary, I was overwhelmed with the sense of calm these animals reflect in their new, healthy environment—a place that honors their right to be cared for with dignity and respect. Lions, tigers, leopards, bears and wolves greeted me with yawns and roars while lounging in the setting sun, sharing with me their scars and histories of abuse. 

Scarred ~ Photo by MJohnson © 2009.

Like this guy, who had been kept in a cage much smaller than his size—where he couldn’t fully stand up or turn around—in the parking lot behind a gas station somewhere in Texas, where for a small fee patrons could go out back and gawk at him through the bars of his prison; and where he was beaten by his “owner” for doing what was in his nature to do; for being irritated by his show-and-tell life.  Why do people feel the need to dominate animals in this way? 

Still, notwithstanding his scars, here in the spaciousness of his sanctuary den, he portrayed a sense of relief as he lounged peacefully in his new environment.

Rest Easy: You Are Safe ~ Photo by MJohnson © 2009.

I stood in awe as I watched him, amazed at nature’s splendor and the telepathic way that animals communicate with us. I believe they want us to know them—their struggles, their pain—and we can, but we must quiet our minds enough to listen with our hearts and engage their living spirits, an ability that goes far beyond any act of anthropomorphism that we may conjure up. It is to connect to the essence of Life itself. And when we do—when we open ourselves to these healing connections—we see beyond our impermanent human condition into a shared mystical experience of life, even if for just one moment.

And as the sun prepared to do its disappearing act in the night sky, the wolves gathered round to howl a great “goodnight.”

Good Night ~ Photo © 2009.

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By Melissa Johnson

To get involved or find out how you can help, please visit the Wild Animal Sanctuary and follow them on Twitter at www.twitter.com/animalsanctuary).  All photos except for Black Bear in the Wild were shot on location at the Wild Animal Sanctuary in Keensburg, Colorado © 2009.

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