Sunday Writing Prompt MLMM- A Spiritual Awakening

This week’s Sunday Writing PromptShape-shifter

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I’d always wondered about my grandfather’s proclivity for understanding Nature. I’d assumed it was his Native American heritage on his mother’s side. You’d think his tales of the “Thunder God” would have contradicted his Christian beliefs, but they didn’t.
He’d say when asked, “Does speaking of atoms negate the idea that God created them?”.
So, Grandad explained that Nature’s many abilities had no bearing on his belief in one intelligent designer of the universe. In fact, he admitted they were the clues to it.
I recall one summer that Grandad and I spent together. He lived in a trailer on the edge of the desert. I was 14 and my mother decided getting away from peer pressures while reconnecting with Grandad was a great idea.
I wasn’t happy. No television… no internet… NO MC DONALD’S!
Well, Grandad was thrilled with my company and we began daily hikes into the local caves. I have to admit that we had a great time and the cave paintings from his ancestors were mind blowing! He had a lazy eye which gave him an otherworldly appearance and made every single story come alive.
Grandad explained many legends and I felt such a pride in that heritage that I insisted upon registering as a full tribal member.
During one excursion, we happened on an altar deep inside the mountain. Grandad was surprised, himself, to discover it!
Suddenly, the mountain shuddered and a part of the ceiling crumbled trapping me (but fortunately not crushing me) beneath a large rock. After not being able to budge it, Grandad decided to seek help. He left me with his crucifix and told me to pray. He PROMISED that I would be okay.
I thankfully dozed between prayers because my legs had lost feeling and I was losing hope.
A snort awakened me. There beside the ancient alter was the largest, pure white, mountain goat I had ever seen!
It may have been my physical pain playing with my head but, to this day, I know that goat winked at me with an extremely familiar lazy eye.
Then it proceeded to dig into the dirt floor with sturdy hooves, lowered its head, and pushed with great might, easing that rock off of me. I passed out with relief only to awaken to my grandad carrying me over his shoulder into the trailer with the crucifix still wrapped around my hand.

After days of care and recovery, I was my old self again, except for some deep purple bruises. At our final campfire, the night before I was to leave, we prayed together. A rumble came from the mountain once again, but this time it was from a distance. Grandad placed the crucifix in my palm and closed my fingers.
“Keep this with you, always, for safety and as a remembrance of your spiritual awakening at Waneta Mountain.”
It wasn’t until Grandad passed that I fully realized what I had experienced.

[The name Waneta means Shape-Shifter, and is of Native American origin. ]

Sunday Writing Prompt, May 30/21 – Shape-shifter | Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie (

MLMM Sunday Writing Prompt- Sounds of Birds

THIS WEEK’S CHALLENGE: Choose either sight, sound, or smell, and write a memory it triggers in you.

I’m a big fan of actively purposefully connecting with my senses. When something catches my eye, I pursue it for more sensual input. Yes, that’s probably why my career with children has been so rewarding. That’s exactly what kids do and why not being able to touch or sniff a priceless work of art, is unbearable for them.
My example comes from an experiment that asked me to recall a sensation.
I became intrigued by articles about Native American Spirit Animals. There’s no doubt in my mind that human beings are inseparable from Nature and that spiritual signs are everywhere.
So, there was a proposed experiment to find your own ‘spirit animal’. I thought, why not?
The experiment suggested a quiet calm space where you could just clear your mind in a meditative state and the first animal that presented itself to you would be your spirit guide. Did I mention that I was skeptical? I wasn’t even sure that I was capable of clearing my mind.
Well, I did it.
As I sat quietly, I suddenly heard the sound of red-winged blackbirds. I hadn’t heard them in a long while, at that time, because I wasn’t living by a marshy area. (That sound also triggered happy childhood memories of my grandparents’ farm.)
Red winged blackbirds were so outside of what I expected, and so specific, that I became a guarded believer that very day.
I look up animal meaning information often now, especially when I notice an unusual array of them in a time period.
There was such a time period right after my first granddaughter was born, when my photo adventures turned from frogs and salamanders to spiders. I was ALL about finding spiders!
A few years into that new photo fetish, I found my book on animal meanings.
I looked up spiders, for fun.
Spiders mean Grandmother. “The spirit of grandmotherly love.”
Just sayin’.

MLMM Sunday Writing Prompt – Three Senses | Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie (