I stood at the gate of the barnyard after my walk in the woods and the animals all gathered in front of me.
Waiting for treats no doubt.
But then I caught a smell. I’m not sure what it was, maybe the geranium oil that Nadine used to keep mosquitos away. But the smell, what ever it was, brought me right back to India.
And I saw, standing in the field behind my animals, all the dogs and cows and donkeys, the horses, birds and cats I saw in India.
At that moment I got the feeling of how all animals are connected.
I knew that our fences, the boundaries, both physical and emotional that we put on our animals mean nothing to them.
That they are our constructs.
When I say this is my donkey or my dog, it means nothing to them. Because they are all connected in some psychic realm. (I don’t know it that’s the right words, but I have no other words to describe it) A place that we humans, because of our brains, have a hard time accessing. Our brains that like to divide things up and put things into categories and neat little boxes.
I felt it very clearly as I stood there. The interconnectedness of all animals. And how small my claim on them is in comparison. How flimsy my fences and gates.
Circumstances may matter, how much food, attention, love and freedom an animal experiences. But there are no boundaries between space and place.
Once, before Chloe came to live with us, I was picturing her being here. I was communicating my images of Chloe to Fanny and Lulu. I wanted to let them know she was coming to the farm. And from Fanny I got the words “same thing“.
As if, whether they’re standing right next to each other, at the farm down the road, or a world away, it doesn’t really matter. Because they are all, always aware of the presence of each other. Sharing a space invisible to us humans.