My dining companion
I was enjoying lunch on Mary Jo and Perrin’s deck one warm and sunny afternoon last week when I heard a clamoring down below. My cousins had gone out but I wondered if Perrin had returned without my knowing and was now ensconced in a noisy home improvement project. As the din grew more frantic, I started to feel nervous: could a marauder possibly have infiltrated Montreat, aka The Safest Place In The World?
I glanced over the deck fencing and spotted a large, hairy intruder underneath the house, wrestling with an empty garbage can. Gasping, I dashed back into the house for safety — but also to grab my phone so I could take a video.
I tiptoed back on to the deck. As I peered through the fencing to videotape what appeared to be an adolescent male black bear, he stared up at me with a tacit shrug, sort of like, “what are you gonna do it about it?”
Check it out:
After about 20 minutes of trashcan-plundering, Mr. Ursine Americanus realized there was no food to be found and made his way down the driveway to investigate the plants. He pawed through the surface, kicking up a spray of dirt as he buried his nose in the earth, in search of sustenance. Finally, when he determined that our metaphorical cupboard was bare, he wandered down the hill to continue his hunt.
Look to the right of the bear: can you see the patch of dirt he kicked up?
Berries and nuts, the bears’ culinary preferences, aren’t available yet. So the furry creatures here in Montreat have been quite bold as they scour trashcans and backyards for food. Mama bears evict their yearlings from the den in spring, and this one flattened our empty blue bin hoping to find something to fill his belly.
The town of Montreat recently sent out a black bear APB informing us that a bear’s sense of smell is “seven times greater than a bloodhound’s.” There have been several “aggressive bear sightings” near trashcans, so anyone who doesn’t put their trash in a “bear-proof receptacle” could be fined up to $500. Perrin puts our trash bags into one of these receptacles across the street, a green steel padlocked square that occasionally has been found tipped over, the lock ripped open, and trash strewn along the ground.
This was not my first black bear sighting since I’ve been in Montreat. Once, while walking the Elizabeth’s Path creekside trail, I saw the ample posterior of what appeared to be a Mama Bear, lumbering away from me.
Then, a few weeks ago, Mary Jo urgently beckoned me inside her bedroom. Just outside the window, a mama was searching for food — she tore through Perrin’s freshly planted zinnias — while her two cubs frolicked. It was about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, but watch this video and see for yourself.
My friend Gina has decided that bears are my spirit animal, since I keep running into them. In case you didn’t know, a spirit animal helps guide or protect a person on a particular journey — in my case, the literal and metaphysical trek from Los Angeles, which had ceased feeling like home, to the Asheville area, a place where I have experienced both more comfort and personal growth than anywhere else I’ve lived.
In the six months that I’ve resided here, I’ve met DNA relatives I didn’t know I had, worked through the intergenerational trauma of adoption, made a new circle of friends, and bought a home. I didn’t expect any of these things to happen so quickly — or at all. So not only do I have the Asheville vortex to thank for my good fortune but now, it appears, I also owe a lot to the bears.
The Bear Is the Spirit Animal of the Healer
According to that eminent digital periodical, California Psychics, a black bear meeting “may point to a protective presence in your life.” The animal represents “strength, courage, confidence, and leadership.” While I’ve never sought out a traditional leadership role, I do consider myself a guide/coach in my work as a therapist. So I found this quote resonant:
“…if you always have others depend on you, the bear is reminding you of the importance of self-care. You cannot be a grounding force for others if you are not strong and actively grounding yourself. You can call upon the spirit of the bear when you need healing, paying special attention to those areas that feel weak or in need of rest and repair.”
During the last two years I lived in Los Angeles, I started to feel that the warranty on my parts was expiring. I developed horrible insomnia and my lifelong IBS-C became disabling. At the time I believed that my physical pain spawned emotional distress but now I wonder if it was the other way around: that the feelings I had been pushing down my entire life created so much intestinal chaos that I had to pay attention and focus on healing myself from the inside out.
My overall health has improved exponentially since I’ve lived in western North Carolina. My sleep isn’t perfect, but I have many nights where I slumber for 7-9 hours — unheard of when I was back in L.A. My mood buoyed by the natural splendor and ease of living in Asheville, I am now taking 1/4 of the antidepressant dose I’d been on for 20 years — and I hope to be off it completely in a few more months.
Here’s what else California Psychics has to say about bears:
“If the bear is your spirit animal, you identify with the cycles of nature. You are a healing and grounding force for yourself and for others. You understand the importance of taking time to regenerate, heal, and rest, and you are likely very comfortable in your own company and in moments of solitude. The bear is the spirit animal of the healer.”
According to whatismyspiritanimal.com, meeting our spirit animal presents us with a choice. We can either accept their message or walk away. I don’t remember running into any bears earlier in life, but I certainly recall crossroads where I took the wrong turn, most of them involving relationships that drained my spirit and my finances.
Shamanic practitioner Bernadette King, the creator of whatismyspiritanimal.com, writes that while our spirit animal chooses us, they do so only when we subconsciously ask for help.
Right at this very moment, I’m not aware of needing any particular help. Well, I could use some assistance picking the new flooring for my master bedroom, but I have a handy friend who’s going to help me with that. But I’ll continue to listen to my intuition the next time I’m at a major crossroads and ask myself: “what would my spirit animal do?”
This upcoming weekend will be my last one living in Montreat. I suppose you could argue that all the residents here have bears for spirit animals, because we’re surrounded by them. Perhaps that’s why this tiny town is a sanctuary for so many: the bears’ protective energy permeates the mountain air, creating a mimetic pattern in the way we human residents look after and connect to each other.
The movers arrive with all my stuff from L.A. on Monday, when I officially move into my new home in Asheville. The condo is surrounded by a thick swath of trees and vines, so Mary Jo has cautioned me to keep my deck doors locked when I’m inside.
“Bears can climb trees,” she said. “You don’t want any wandering into your living room.”
No, I thought to myself. But I wouldn’t mind one sitting a spell on the deck.
The bear footage is fantastic. Best of all is hearing your voice on that second clip. So happy for you to have found your spirit animal and new home!
I dreamed of bears several times during my divorce.
I’m so glad to hear your move has been healing.