Awaiting the Platypus Dawn
Photo credit by Cha222; creative commons license
Two months ago, I participated in some “spiritual work” with some trusted spiritual leaders who always have an interesting point of view. I very much enjoy these sessions where I am a student rather than a teacher and where I am challenged to see things in a new way. I’m a big believer in continued learning, no matter how much of an expert you are or how much you think you know. There’s always more.
I’ve had terrible arguments in the past with spiritual people who considered themselves experts because of how long they’d been a member of a particular church, circle, or group. When I challenged them to learn something new–just investigate it to see how it fit with their beliefs–I was quickly slapped down. They seemed very comfortable in the little niche they’d carved out and not at all interested in any type of spiritual “continuing education.”
It’s because I like to learn that I’ve investigated other religions, attended Voodoo ceremonies, sat through lectures on aliens and other dimensions, watched for orbs in cemeteries, studied as much as possible for the layman about zero field theory, listened as a didgeridoo was aimed at my second chakra, talked to people who talk to the dead, and oh, so much more. I never really reject any of it–but I assimilate it in different ways, turning it over in my head and figuring out what it means to me.
During the January session, one of the women was trying to help me work through a relationship question. I wasn’t sure how I felt about a particular friendship. I had not shared this with the group, but I was on one hand intrigued by the uniqueness of the person in my life and on the other, well, a little nervous because it was most definitely new territory for me. The woman helping me talk through the situation began describing to me the relationship as she saw it: a platypus dawn.
I had not heard even the word platypus in months or years when she said it, though in the two months since, I heard it frequently. That’s more than just selective filtering–I really am hearing it quite often.
I don’t want to say that the platypus is my new totem animal, though to some degree, that would make sense. A platypus totem is rather powerful and reflects the need to work with the energy of the truly unique and be able to flow and change direction as need be. Not a bad meaning at all, especially after working with the wolf totem for so long and then the bear. It does seem to be a good representative of this particular friendship.
What this woman described to me was a new dawn, a new era in my life. She described the pink skies of dawn and the platypus coming up out of the water. She told me that it was the uniqueness that was the key.
That platypus has been the problem. I really adore men who are “different.” They don’t have to be openly different, but in their private lives, there tends to be something unusual that no one would ever guess. Sometimes that “difference” can be very new territory for me, such that I’m not just acknowledging the uniqueness but a part of it. (I’m being general here, not cryptic.)
So I’ve had my doubts about my platypus relationship with its double-edged sword of uniqueness. I think the bottom line has been how far is too far when it comes to different ways of thinking. I’m not so used to being “out-platypus’ed” in a relationship, so this could be interesting indeed. Especially if what I’ve seen so far is just the dawn of it.