The Calling
 
 
One sunny day I followed a narrow, barely visible path up a mountain I have never seen the top of.  This trail went only a quarter of the way up the mountain, before traversing across, and then winded its way back down through huge centuries old rock that tall cedars attempted to claim; their roots spreading across the hard surface.
 
It was not my intention to travel far that day, for I had only a single mission in mind.  I had to get something out of my thoughts, an impression that nagged me since it had formulated in my head days before. As I climbed up that beautiful path, a path that could have only been created by wildlife; I kept my eyes open, and looked for something that I had never seen before.  I tried to keep my head clear of thought and the deeper I wandered into the forest, the better I felt. At last I came across a small blueberry bush amidst a variety of others.
 
This one bush, insignificant by human standards; I sensed it was the one thing I was looking for.  I sat down right on trail, the only comfortable place available, and I placed my hand softly on its tiny branches.  I tried to forget everything society had taught me as I opened my spirit to this entity. With my eyes closed against the world I call home, I spoke words crazy by any other standards; I spoke them in my thoughts, and fixed them toward the bush. 
 
”You called?”  I asked
 
“I heard you, I felt you call” 
 
I sat there in the heat of the day, sweating, breathing slightly heavy from the exertion of the hike. I sat there silently, settling into stillness as my breath formed a slow, conscious rhythm. 
 
I waited for a response. 
 
There was a slight movement of air and this movement brought me into the awareness of all the sensations of the moment; like the sun’s radiant warmth on my face and skin. I could see the light through the skin of my eyelids, it made my lids red and I could almost see into them, I could see my blood vessels, and the energy in the blood cells danced like static on a television screen.  The hardness of the earth kept me grounded, I could feel small rocks pushing into me, and the softness of the mosses I was squishing.  I could feel the sharpness of the bush under my hand, it was scratchy. 
 
I sat still, with an empty mind, waiting for a thought to form... something, anything.  In due course thoughts did formulate, but not the ones I was there to hear. First there was hesitation, and then the derogatory thing called doubt.    
 
What kind of madness is this?  What am I doing here, following this damned dream world?  When am I going to grow up and face the rigid laws of reality?
 
I tried to break these thoughts, shattering them into oblivion. 
 
I have been through more absurdity than this, why do I doubt the existence of a force greater than knowledge, trying to communicate?
 
But as time passed on, my body was getting uncomfortable, and my hand was starting to shake. 
 
A silly childish dream, a product of my own imagination I have developed due to the fact I can’t accept the world the way it is.  But on the contrary, what does it hurt to entertain myself with what my imagination provides me?  It gives me hope that there will be a better day, a better existence, these things that I see.
What complete nonsense, go home and live with the fact you are who you are and forever will be. People will never change, and you can never change people.  There is no such thing as the supernatural.  What you see is what you get.  You cannot save the world.   
 
Considering those mad thoughts battling haphazardly in my mind, I proverbially fell on my knees in defeat and readied myself to give up on chasing spirits.   I prepared myself to break the silent connection between the bush and I.  I was a loon calling out for aid on an isolated lake and the only response I received was the forlorn echo of my own cry.
 
What a complete waste of time
 
I spiralled rapidly into a mood of despair.  In fact, I could no longer see the red behind my eyelids; it had even turned to black, a spiralling black.  There was a sudden movement, a vibration and my heart resonated faith. In the dark vastness of eternity materialized a giant three dimensional spider, slowly revolving around in nothingness. I could see every detail... every hair was visible, every hair significant; there was a dull shine on its dark brown exoskeleton.  It appeared to be all knees, with the fact every one of its eight legs had six joints; giving me the impression of strength and speed and the ability to move with far greater grace than I could ever hope to have.  It was a walking fortress covered in protective armour.  In its eyes held not horror, but the wisdom of a thousand years; a creature of beauty and majesty, thought and intelligence.  I was awed into complete silence as I marvelled at the gift I have received.  There was a message here, another piece of the puzzle I have been given to solve.
The grandiosity of the moment lifted as I became conscious of all the questions that were forming. 
Like what message was this bush trying to communicate?
How on earth could it have spoken to me days ago, through my thoughts, over great distance to bring me here? 
How has it put this very real almost tangible image in my head?  And for what purpose, I wondered. 
Why a spider? 
The instant I relayed these questions to the bush, the spider was gone. 
“Hey, don’t leave me guessing, please!”  I begged, feeling the absence like we had shared something sacred and it was taken from me. 
Too many things have left me guessing, without answers.  Anomalies that I have never spoken of, spiritual times like this moment that get pushed aside as invention by men of God. 
 I sensed there was no answer forthcoming, and I suddenly felt aborted from the spiritual plane I was growing accustomed to entering.  I regained my composure, and thanked the berry bush with my heart.  It told me nothing of itself, yet it showed me more than anyone ever could. 
I opened my eyes, and was primed to get up when I noticed I had made a friend.   There are no words to describe the sensations that overwhelmed me when I saw that there on my hand, standing motionless, was the spider. 
Is it a product of my inventive imagination?
Whimsy?  
Or can this reality genuinely exist? This enticement I feel drawn by, this enigma? 
I wonder about the reliability of my human reasoning as I look at this incalculable puzzle that has woven its way into my life.
And I am inspired by the ingeniousness of it all.

 
At that moment, I was confident in the conclusion that I had been called, that the animals have been sent to wake me up, to see there are other perceptions to the universe.