I lay in bed last night in the wee hours, trying to settle my restlessness and get some sleep. An exercise I use often is to relax and focus on the colours and images projected upon the backs of my closed eyelids. The colours are the colours of the aura, and it's a good idea to "check in" from time to time--see what palette shows up, and how brilliant or dark the colours are. The images that flash are usually puzzling--often faces of people I don't recognize (this time around, anyway). Last night Raccoon revisited me, thusly.
Raccoon has hung out with me before. A couple of summers ago, I was gifted with the opportunity to participate in a weekend-long ceremonial dance back home in Oklahoma. Fasting from drinking water or eating food and (hardest of all) abstaining from TALKING for three days while dancing sometimes to exhaustion, at all hours, was a major spiritual turning point for me. A few animal guides joined us under the arbor, sometimes quite specifically for a particular dancer. Although he didn't join us in the arbor, Raccoon was busy behind the scenes, preparing my message.
At the conclusion of the weekend, we packed our tents, policed the site, returned all to its previous state, and then headed for our cars. Out of a line of cars back at the lodge, my old, black Camry was the only one covered (literally) with muddy little handprints. Tiny fingers and very long palms--obviously Raccoon's persistence had been at work. He was a big boy at that, judging from the height of his prints along the side of the car. I imagine the would-be intruder responding to a forest police officer's order, "You! In the mask! Up against the car! Assume the position!"
Although his prints indicated that he had been very curious about the vented moon roof, I had not left any food in my vehicle. Others who had left food there found their vehicles unaccosted. It was clear to me and to the dance chief that Raccoon had a message for me, and me alone. The dance chief related that Raccoon had come, very unexpectedly, to her and a group making ceremonial masks. Raccoon, the Masked One, is the animal "patron" of masks and mask-making. Do I have a mask in place? And if so, why, and what purpose is it serving?
Upon returning home, I went to Ted Andrews' book Animal Spirits for more about our boy Raccoon. Not only about masks (i.e., putting up facades), raccoons are about thievery and deception, but also cleansing as they fastidiously "wash" their food (actually they are simply moistening it for easier consumption). Was Raccoon calling my attention to a subconscious barrier I have up? Or was it about my being duped or deceived? Was he rewarding the cleansing experience I had undergone? And now why, two years later, had he shown up again?
These are things for me to continue to reflect upon. Perhaps for you, too, should Raccoon cross YOUR path in an unexpected or significant way.
