Ack! Them guys don't know much. They're probably post-modernists or something. So let me lay it down for you. The modern bear is hip. He is what you call 'progressive regressive'. Think of every bear cartoon you've ever seen. Could you see Yogi doing any of the stuff them other guys said? Heck No, of course not! Yogi slides on in to some camp site. You can swear you hear bongos coming from somewhere. His hat turned down just so. He's got his protege' with him, Booboo Bear. What a name! You just know those two live behind the Java Jive and hang out at the Tacoma Punk House on weekends. Tacoma's punks being especially in love with the Beats back in the day, When Bobby Floyd would weave distorted tunes on the organ while Community College students wrote poems about girls still red with acne. And the Java Jive monkey would scream at the teenagers. Anyhow, Yogi saunters on in to a camp site, goes straight for the pik-a-nik basket and they high tail it out of there! Mr. Ranger only catches them occasionally, not like in the cartoon. They scarf down the goodies and then go visit Cindyloo Bear. Bears are clowns, too. But they'll only be your play pal for so long, then they lose it and try to take your head off. But really, they're all softies inside. That's why there's Teddy Bears. (Now there's another bear for you. Roosevelt. I mean what President was hipper than ol' Teddy?! Well okay maybe JFK, but hey!) They're mean, their tough, but they got a soft side. That's the bear you meet that sits and waves his hands around at you, whether its at the circus or the national park. So, why are they so hip? Coz they seen things!! Geez, you know a person goes missing like every 7 seconds at a National State or Federal Park? And there's reports of lights and Men in Black. And not the Will Smith cool guys. No, the ugly creepy kind, with pasty white skin, no ears, and talk in backwards Salish. Yep, I know I'm going all David Lynch on you. But really, the bears know something. Just ask their Indian Sidekick. There's always an Indian Sidekick. No, really! Come back! I'm not done!
I lived in black bear country a few years ago. One boar would leave a steaming pile of purple (blueberry) poop in the middle of the dirt road we lived on every morning. Not in the woods, but on the road. Some believe they are linked to resurrection powers. Odd coming after your poem of deer resurrection.
This weekend my family and I experienced black bears while hiking. They are beautiful and fearful creatures, especially mother bears protecting their cubs. I also hope those bears were there for and not against you.
Bears are strong, solitary creatures. Having met several black bears and one brown bear, they always seem to be facinated of us. Thank you for writing and I sure hope those bears are purely there to protect you.
I have a bear story. Several years ago I was walking the Viszla dog I'd been given. A Viszla is a slender, rust-colored dog with skin so thin you can see the dog's veins. They were bred on the plains of Hungary, and, true to her origins Phoebe preferred open spaces, But I was driving so we were at the Soaring Eagle forest that abuts the Hazel Wolf Wetlands in Sammamish, where I live. Phoebe and I started down the main trail through the forest. We hadn't gone far when we heard rustling in the trees on our left. We stopped, looked and sniffed. Nothing. We walked further. Again we heard rustling. Again, nothing we could see or smell. We walked further. Suddenly a cub ran out onto the trail ahead of us. Phoebe was thrilled - a playmate! She raced towards the cub, who was followed by its mother. The mother bear didn't hesitate - swatted my dog onto the ground. I raced towards them, screaming. The mother stood up. Phoebe got off the ground and raced past me back down the trail. I didn't see any blood dripping from her. I looked at the mother bear. She looked at me and ambled over to the tree which her two cubs had already climbed. I turned and ran after my dog, to the trailhead. A jogger who said he was from Alaska was running his hands over Phoebe. He said there were no bones broken and he was familiar with the black mother bear and there was nothing to be afraid of.
So, dear Sherman, I'm going to go with the hundreds of bears being protective mamas. Souls who have compassion for your unbearable affliction and want you to know they will keep you safe in spite of everything.
Thank you for sharing your ‘many bears’ dream, and for safely staying in your life vehicle through the darkness of bear territory. Yes, even your ‘vehicle’ in a dream is said to be ‘you’. Your vehicle is strong, safe, and was ‘directed’ that night carrying you safely beyond the good bears. Black bears.
I was once walking along the shoreline and saw, off in the far distance, a group of women meditating on the top of a dune. I had a deep and immediate yearning to quietly slip in among them and connect to all that spiritual energy. As I drew closer I discovered they were a group of newly planted saplings with water bags attached at the bottom. I planted my behind among them and contemplated the fragility of my mind. And, yes, I did think about why I assumed they were all women.
Wow….what amazes me about humankind is how we can weave trauma/drama/pain/wonder/confusion into a glistening ode to the moments, profound or mundane, of our lives. Man o man…I was in the backseat of your vehicle on this ride thru the forest…thanks for the trip.
I'm currently on the lookout for a pair of reading glasses I got out last night to read the fine print on one of my husband's medication bottles. I found the empty case, but so far the clever place I laid the glasses aside remains cleverly outside my ken.
One of the nightmares I remember from childhood had me & some other kids being chased by a bear. I came to a graveled slope and for whatever dream reasons I knew I had to slide down it on my butt. I remember looking up and seeing the bear standing on its hind legs at the top of the slope.
I was married to a bipolar man for 20 years. It wasn't easy but it was so often a pleasure. I write about him a lot and Sherman, your bare bones honesty wows me.
Understood. But I can't help myself. I love totem poles. Have seen some of the Quileute in Clallum County, WA., some in southern Ontario. They do seem to exude power. Could this be in the eye of the beholder? Shirley
I think, when it comes to Native art, that folks tend to blend think artists are spiritual leaders and vice versa. My analogy is: Not every Jesuit, not even the great ones, can write a good sermon.
Ack! Them guys don't know much. They're probably post-modernists or something. So let me lay it down for you. The modern bear is hip. He is what you call 'progressive regressive'. Think of every bear cartoon you've ever seen. Could you see Yogi doing any of the stuff them other guys said? Heck No, of course not! Yogi slides on in to some camp site. You can swear you hear bongos coming from somewhere. His hat turned down just so. He's got his protege' with him, Booboo Bear. What a name! You just know those two live behind the Java Jive and hang out at the Tacoma Punk House on weekends. Tacoma's punks being especially in love with the Beats back in the day, When Bobby Floyd would weave distorted tunes on the organ while Community College students wrote poems about girls still red with acne. And the Java Jive monkey would scream at the teenagers. Anyhow, Yogi saunters on in to a camp site, goes straight for the pik-a-nik basket and they high tail it out of there! Mr. Ranger only catches them occasionally, not like in the cartoon. They scarf down the goodies and then go visit Cindyloo Bear. Bears are clowns, too. But they'll only be your play pal for so long, then they lose it and try to take your head off. But really, they're all softies inside. That's why there's Teddy Bears. (Now there's another bear for you. Roosevelt. I mean what President was hipper than ol' Teddy?! Well okay maybe JFK, but hey!) They're mean, their tough, but they got a soft side. That's the bear you meet that sits and waves his hands around at you, whether its at the circus or the national park. So, why are they so hip? Coz they seen things!! Geez, you know a person goes missing like every 7 seconds at a National State or Federal Park? And there's reports of lights and Men in Black. And not the Will Smith cool guys. No, the ugly creepy kind, with pasty white skin, no ears, and talk in backwards Salish. Yep, I know I'm going all David Lynch on you. But really, the bears know something. Just ask their Indian Sidekick. There's always an Indian Sidekick. No, really! Come back! I'm not done!
💕
I lived in black bear country a few years ago. One boar would leave a steaming pile of purple (blueberry) poop in the middle of the dirt road we lived on every morning. Not in the woods, but on the road. Some believe they are linked to resurrection powers. Odd coming after your poem of deer resurrection.
This weekend my family and I experienced black bears while hiking. They are beautiful and fearful creatures, especially mother bears protecting their cubs. I also hope those bears were there for and not against you.
I don't know what they meant! Thanks for pointing our their duality.
Bears are strong, solitary creatures. Having met several black bears and one brown bear, they always seem to be facinated of us. Thank you for writing and I sure hope those bears are purely there to protect you.
Thank you, Toni.
I'm lighting a candle....
What a scary and lovely experience!
I have a bear story. Several years ago I was walking the Viszla dog I'd been given. A Viszla is a slender, rust-colored dog with skin so thin you can see the dog's veins. They were bred on the plains of Hungary, and, true to her origins Phoebe preferred open spaces, But I was driving so we were at the Soaring Eagle forest that abuts the Hazel Wolf Wetlands in Sammamish, where I live. Phoebe and I started down the main trail through the forest. We hadn't gone far when we heard rustling in the trees on our left. We stopped, looked and sniffed. Nothing. We walked further. Again we heard rustling. Again, nothing we could see or smell. We walked further. Suddenly a cub ran out onto the trail ahead of us. Phoebe was thrilled - a playmate! She raced towards the cub, who was followed by its mother. The mother bear didn't hesitate - swatted my dog onto the ground. I raced towards them, screaming. The mother stood up. Phoebe got off the ground and raced past me back down the trail. I didn't see any blood dripping from her. I looked at the mother bear. She looked at me and ambled over to the tree which her two cubs had already climbed. I turned and ran after my dog, to the trailhead. A jogger who said he was from Alaska was running his hands over Phoebe. He said there were no bones broken and he was familiar with the black mother bear and there was nothing to be afraid of.
So, dear Sherman, I'm going to go with the hundreds of bears being protective mamas. Souls who have compassion for your unbearable affliction and want you to know they will keep you safe in spite of everything.
Thank you for sharing your ‘many bears’ dream, and for safely staying in your life vehicle through the darkness of bear territory. Yes, even your ‘vehicle’ in a dream is said to be ‘you’. Your vehicle is strong, safe, and was ‘directed’ that night carrying you safely beyond the good bears. Black bears.
Thank you, Jeff.
I was once walking along the shoreline and saw, off in the far distance, a group of women meditating on the top of a dune. I had a deep and immediate yearning to quietly slip in among them and connect to all that spiritual energy. As I drew closer I discovered they were a group of newly planted saplings with water bags attached at the bottom. I planted my behind among them and contemplated the fragility of my mind. And, yes, I did think about why I assumed they were all women.
Thanks for sharing your journey, Sherman.
Oh, what an amazing experience you had. Wow!
Ha! Or I need my eyes checked.
Wow….what amazes me about humankind is how we can weave trauma/drama/pain/wonder/confusion into a glistening ode to the moments, profound or mundane, of our lives. Man o man…I was in the backseat of your vehicle on this ride thru the forest…thanks for the trip.
Thank you, Barbara!
Back at ya….been a long time fan. So glad you are out in the world doing “you” and sharing the journey with the rest of us!
I'm currently on the lookout for a pair of reading glasses I got out last night to read the fine print on one of my husband's medication bottles. I found the empty case, but so far the clever place I laid the glasses aside remains cleverly outside my ken.
One of the nightmares I remember from childhood had me & some other kids being chased by a bear. I came to a graveled slope and for whatever dream reasons I knew I had to slide down it on my butt. I remember looking up and seeing the bear standing on its hind legs at the top of the slope.
Thanks. I like receiving your poems.
That is a scary dream! But you escaped!
astounding i mean astonishing
Thank you.
I was married to a bipolar man for 20 years. It wasn't easy but it was so often a pleasure. I write about him a lot and Sherman, your bare bones honesty wows me.
Thank you, Burleigh.
Craig Johnson famously gave one of his characters the line, Wait for signs. Bears are a good sign. Stay with them, Sherman.
Thanks!
Whatever other interpretations there may be, this is scary, fantastic and rich. I guess somewhere in there "totemic" was mentioned or alluded to.
Shirley Gaines
I avoid totems! Too easy an image for us Indian writers.
Understood. But I can't help myself. I love totem poles. Have seen some of the Quileute in Clallum County, WA., some in southern Ontario. They do seem to exude power. Could this be in the eye of the beholder? Shirley
I think, when it comes to Native art, that folks tend to blend think artists are spiritual leaders and vice versa. My analogy is: Not every Jesuit, not even the great ones, can write a good sermon.