My Spirit Animal

When I was in my thirties, my friend Bob returned from an Omega Institute Spirit Quest workshop, eager to show me how to connect with my totem animal. I hoped for a rare and swift creature – a gazelle, perhaps.

We turned the lights low in my living room, and I lay within a circle Bob created by walking around me with burning sage, gently spreading the smoke with his hands.

In a quiet, hypnotic voice he whispered, “Close your eyes, breathe deeply and slowly, in and out, letting go of all thoughts, all desires. Release any expectations of what you might find on your journey.”

When I signaled my readiness, he asked me to picture a body of water with a densely grown bit of land in the middle. “Now notice there’s a rowboat waiting for you on shore. Step into the boat, row to the island, where you will find many animals. As you roam the landscape, one of the animals will speak to you. Be open to the message you’re given, then thank your animal spirit guide for the lesson and come back to shore.” 

I saw the body of water, the island, and the rowboat, but there was already a creature in the boat. It was Babar, the children’s storybook elephant. 

With the spats, the bow tie, and the stupid little hat. 

I stepped into the rowboat and said, “No, no. Get out of the boat! I want to find a sleek and beautiful animal on the island, not you!” 

Babar smiled. “We can row there if you wish, and you can walk among the other creatures, but none of them will talk to you. I’m your spirit guide.”  

God, he was so prissy. The last thing I would have imagined on a quest for my personal symbol. 

I remembered Bob’s advice to be open to whatever happened, but I felt certain Babar was a trick of my imagination, a joke my psyche was playing on me. I insisted on rowing to the island. 

Babar very politely agreed but refused to leave the boat. He didn’t help with the rowing, either. 

On the island, I walked through a Rousseau-like jungle among strange flowers, exotic birds, curious apes, hungry lions, and fierce tigers. None of these fascinating creatures showed the slightest interest in me. 

I knew I couldn’t choose my totem, that it must choose me. Even so, I tried to entice a sleek panther to speak to me of lunar power, of death and rebirth, of the gift of shapeshifting. She held me in her unblinking stare, silent. 

Babar waited. 

Finally, I saw the truth of the situation, how my desire to control the quest could only be upended by this unwanted image I couldn’t deny. 

“Babar,” I said, laughing. “What are you here to teach me?” 

He quietly trumpeted.

I thanked him for the lesson and rowed back to shore. Later, I learned that elephants bestow the ability to have great impact though saying little, to command a situation simply by being.