Resurrection, and Little Red Foxes

I am here on my devotional stay at beautiful, peaceful, Wilbetree estate in Mudgee, New South Wales—currently serving as the Living Miracles Center in Australia.

 

A few mornings ago we discovered that a male mega-bat of the species known as the Little Red Flying Fox (it’s a little smaller than the other three species of mega-bat) had gotten hopelessly caught in a barbed wire fence in the night, apparently struggled fiercely to get untangled—bloodying his mouth and chest in the process—and had died some time before we happened across his ugly, mangled, lifeless body.

Of course, this was an amazing spectacle for me, having never seen anything so horrific, and so I had to take photos. Later, I was tasked with taking the little upside-down devil down from the cross, er, I mean the barbed wires. This was no easy task, as the black, leathery wings had gotten tightly wrenched onto the barbs. This gave me awhile to deeply engage with the thought of the creature’s certain suffering as it wrestled with the fence wires before succumbing to its fate in weariness.

I kept reminding myself that this is all a hallucination, that I am not a body, and so the bat was not its body either. As I tossed the body out into the field behind the barn to be food for fowls and maggots, I felt that this was the end of the whole incident, and I went on with my day; and the next. And the next.

I thought the whole thing was behind me until last night in the dark I woke up with this image of suffering on my mind. I wanted to do something to fix the problem, to prevent this from ever happening again. I wanted to blame the owner of the property for putting the fence there, or for not putting something on the wires that the bats (which are an endangered species) can see. (They are not the type of bat that uses sonar.) But I knew that seeing it as a problem “out there” to be fixed is a misdiagnosis, that there is another way I needed to look at the problem to get to its source. I am learning to not suppress feelings that come up, so I allowed myself to feel the suffering, knowing that at some point I would be able to turn these feelings over to the Holy Spirit to resolve for me.

This morning—Day 6 of the Course In Miracles Workbook lessons—the lesson was “I am upset because I see something that is not there.” This only made me more upset! If it wasn’t really there, why was I still upset, and why could I not make the image go away? I discussed it with Geoff, my assigned “link” or “buddy” during my stay here. Our conversation made it clear that, for my mind, this image was the perfect symbol of suffering and crucifixion! Here I am in Australia, where everything already seems upside down and backwards to me, and here is this ugly, bloody body hanging upside down with black leather wings stretched out, nailed in mid-air; a creature of the night which, despite being vegetarian (so was Hitler!), represents the epitome of fear and attack in my mind.

I decided to go out to the “Levels of Mind Labyrinth”, which is a short walk down the hill from the barn, to process this perception.

The circles of rocks that form the “labyrinth” had only been placed recently, but had already been knocked about, probably either by kangaroos or by Sue’s horse Max.

I spent a few minutes straightening out the rocks, meanwhile glancing around for the Levels of Mind chart and Instrument for Peace worksheet that Sue had told me was somewhere nearby in a plastic bag. The instant I finished restoring the last rock circle, I found the bag, and sat on the old, upside-down bathtub placed near the labyrinth for that purpose, going through the levels in my mind of this image.

My Perception was of an ugly, suffering, bloodied, mangled, crucified-upside-down, foxlike bat. My Emotions behind this image were of sadness and helplessness, as if the image were real, and guilt, due to the realization I am the one who made this false image. My Thoughts behind those emotions were of death and pain, the futility and struggle of life, and my responsibility for having put myself here. My Beliefs behind those thoughts were that I myself stand accused of the death of this innocent animal, and that I too must suffer and die.

The last query on the worksheet is “What I wanted and expected is for … “. I think the desire that led to these emotions and images of suffering stemmed from some wrong desire, but I didn’t bother myself with that—I realized that my true Desire has always been for peace of mind and eternal life. The instant I was in touch with that desire, I looked up and saw a red fox eating in the field nearby. Immediately I recognized this as a gift from the Holy Spirit, to replace the image given to me by ego.

Sure enough, I watched it for a while and it started heading in my general direction. There was a huge gum tree in the fence line between us, and as the fox started sauntering up the trail toward me, I got out my camera and approached it from behind the tree. It got very close and stopped with its head in a spot of sunlight. I snapped a photo and it looked up and saw me, then turned and loped away, but only a stone’s throw distance.

It found other things to eat in the tall dry grass, then wandered off past the pond (called a dam here). It saw me move so it loped around the pond and into some trees. I waited a minute to see if it would come out the other side of the trees, but it did not so I walked down there in time to see it walk through another field and toward another pond, sauntering calmly and finding little things to eat along the way. It seemed so free!

Later, Sue told me it is very rare to see foxes during the heat of the day; that they are usually only out in the early morning or at dusk. But this was a special occasion I know was arranged by the Holy Spirit to replace that horrid image in my mind with one of a “real”, living, daytime fox!

They had told me the purpose of everything we do here is for our own healing. I didn't even know I was in need of any healing, but I think now I have an inkling what they mean. When I came back up to my room, I sat for a long time, looking at the photo of the fox, overcome by joy and gratitude for this miraculous event.