This is a picture of my Christmas doll Elizabeth. She was a Moon Baby. It was the 60’s and the race to the moon had started. Her eyes seemed to be looking at you no matter where you looked at her from. Very “spacey “. I thought she was beautiful. My older sisters liked my sister’s doll better. She was Mollie and was very much like a newborn. I felt very sorry for Elizabeth. I even cried for her and her hurt feelings: or were they mine? Like I said, strange.
I did get over my doll’s feelings, but I have never stopped anthropomorphizing. I give human qualities to most everything, live and inanimate. All my pets have distinct names and personalities. I talk to them like I would talk to anyone. I can carry on a conversation with Vegas, a cat, he talks back. I don’t dress my pets up as humans or pretend they are like my children. I just have intuitive feelings about things. I have spirit animals and plants. I always get excited when I see an eagle especially when I am traveling. I just feel safer. I love to hold bees in my hands in the garden. I talk to birds all the time.
Anthropomorphizing is definitely frowned upon in some circles, mostly psychiatric.
I love the sight of the moon through my sun roof when I am driving at night or when it comes in my bedroom window. I always acknowledge her as “grandmother moon” and ask for her guidance in my grandmother role.
I am so grateful that my husband’s practice of native spirituality gives me the space to connect with everything and anything.
Like this old coffee table from nearly 40 years ago. It could have been a candidate for the thrift store, but I didn’t have the heart to throw it out.
Once I sanded the top, it was like a blank canvas waiting to tell a story. A moon story. We had fun helping it.
You know what they say about stories?