A Skunk at the Garden Party
Friends! I’m eager beyond beavering to share with you today! I had what felt like a very woo, very chance encounter this past week. It was utterly thrilling! In retrospect though, I don’t think it actually was either woo or chance. But it felt like it in the moment, if you know what I mean. And if you don’t know what I mean, let me say it this way: I wasn’t expecting it, and so it felt unexpected. Yet I soon recognized it as a moment more likely choreographed under the benevolent tutelage of an unfathomable cosmos.
When the stars align, the unfathomable cosmos can be caught mid-choreography.
Anyway, the encounter, whether chance or not, came out of my decision to attend an Indigenous Animal Medicine Circle hosted by my friend Fi Fyza Kahani and led by Brenda Poitra, owner/founder of Sky Woman Visions and a member of Three Affiliated tribes of Ft. Berthold, Arikara and Turtle Mt. Chippewa.
I made this decision even though I knew it would keep me up past my bedtime and push me to the very edge of my energetic envelope. I made this decision even though as a white guy (albeit a white trans guy), I struggle with a fear that I’ll be seen as some privileged, co-opting creeper in such spaces. I made this decision despite not knowing what to expect, mostly (read: entirely) because I failed to do more than glance at the program materials. In short, I felt less than clear about my decision to attend.
Current decision conditions: heavy fog
It was against this backdrop that I entered the space, wholly unprepared for the sunny generosity awaiting me. Brenda, I soon discovered, was about to do an individualized reading from the sacred animal spirit world for each and every one of us. With years of Earth Medicine experience at her back, Brenda deftly shuffled her animal spirit deck, explaining that the card pulled would reveal a uniquely personal animal totem. Then, she asked the same simple question as she drew a card for each of us, one by one:
What are [so-and-so’s] leadership gifts?
“Where are you, my little object of art? I am here to collect you.” [Quote by Pepe LePew; Photo by Dan Meyers on Unsplash]
Mmmhmmm. That’s right, friends. The oft-maligned skunk was the totem that came for me. What’s that you say? That stinks? Good one, friends! Good one. But listen. It didn’t stink at all! Not even a whiff of stink accompanied my very own skunk medicine. If anything, my skunk showered me with sweet affirmation of what I’ve been working to foster in myself for decades, and what I endlessly jaw with you about here.
Skunk showed up, it turns out, to affirm my belief that our primary task is — essentially — to find belonging within. To root so deeply and solidly in the terra firma of self that regardless of how low or high the cultural barometric pressure goes, we won’t lose our footing. Nope. No matter what blows through, we won’t tip over. Not even should a sudden onset category 47 Trump tempest or a MAGA-style-monsoon come roaring straight at us. Nothing, and I mean nothing, can topple us into self-abandonment when we’ve got the ballast of skunk medicine on board.
Nope, not even tomato can tip skunk over (nor does it neutralize skunk stink)
Skunk lets us know, in no uncertain terms, that if we’re to build anything sustainable in this lifetime, we must first see to the integrity of our own foundation. Because what we believe about ourselves solidifies into reputation. What we believe — I mean what we really, in our heart of hearts, believe about us, not just what we perform or project — is what everyone outside of us will pick up on. And they’ll also sense when there’s a disconnect between our energy and our projected image.
In essence, we tell others how to feel about us through the energy we exude. And from there, our landscape forms. As within, so without.
So, when we’re not believing in our own worth and we’re not firmly rooted in our core values (maybe we don’t even know what they are — I didn’t for many, many years), then we’re not holding boundaries based on those core values. That’s when “smelly” energy leaks out of us and attracts things that feel scratchy, because they aren’t aligned with our values.
“If your ego is not your amigo, then something stinks.” — Brenda Poitra
On the other hand, when we’re sturdy in ourselves, we securely manage our energy, directing it with consciousness and intentionality toward things that are aligned with and supportive of our values. We attract people, situations and circumstances that feel aligned because they are aligned.
Skunk’s coloration reflects this wisdom. Its black fur signifies the barrier that keeps us from hemorrhaging energy and giving it to things that drain us. Its white stripe is emblematic of using intention to direct our energy toward things we want to attract, cultivate and nurture.
Black says no, white says go. Not all black-and-white-thinking is problematic.
Here’s another way skunk medicine models badassery: quiet application of power. Skunk isn’t an aggressive animal, yet it commands a certain understated respect. It takes a lot for skunk to reach its boiling point, and skunk always gives ample warning that it’s about to blow. When it finally reaches its boiling point, skunk doesn’t shoot to kill, but to stun the senses. And then? Skunk puts its tail down and ambles off without a hair out of place. Meanwhile, its attacker tries to figure out what just hit them.
I personally aspire to a more consistent skunkdom. I truly do. The thing is, it’s a LOT to hang onto one’s energy and sense of self in the midst of a fascist vacuum with wicked cultural eddies spinning off it. Especially if you’re on the vulnerable margins, which requires next-level skunkiness. As a trans person, I’m feeling the ontological threat to my selfhood on the daily. But I’m feeling it for all of us, really, because erasure of people is a “we” problem, whether “we” agree on that, or not.
You, me, we. Separate, but connected.
Fascist tyranny aside, it’s never been popular to flout cultural norms, no matter how much everyone may bristle at them. This seems to be the case regardless of whether they’re externally imposed or internalized as a result of our cultural conditioning.
Staying in skunk sturdiness and saying no to the irrational demands of cultural belonging can be abjectly lonely. Skunks aren’t often invited to garden parties. Folks don’t appreciate it when we stamp our feet and raise our tails, and they certainly don’t like it when we spray. But sometimes, spray we must to maintain integrity with ourselves.
It’s helping me here to remember that nothing, including unpopularity, can wrest the essential power of self-respect from skunk’s grip. And skunks are “popular” with other skunks. They don’t look down their crinkled-up skunk noses at one another. They recognize each other as kindred because they’re in skunky alignment.
The next time I feel the wobbles set in around the seemingly impossible choice between authenticity and belonging, I hope I can remember to apply skunk medicine. I hope you can, too, friends. It’s always available, no prescription necessary. And I have a feeling that the more we call on it, the more goodness it yields.
“Let nothing dim the light that shines from within.” [Quote by Maya Angelou; Photo by Jack Bulmer on Unsplash]
