Yearning To Be Free

 Main Bonnie Page 

On the darkest of days, with Bonnie wanting to "end it all" and with most serious of conversations about this -- some of which is reflected in this letter written on June 20, 2004, dated June 21, and given to the Oncologist, I took our little dog, Raja, out for one of the frequent walks in our yard.

As I went out the door I noticed a deer over on the side yard, beautiful, and just standing there, right on the outside of the long fence we have around that part of the yard.

The deer often run through the open hills along side our home, and come up to that fence to lean over and eat the roses -- or even jump over to eat more of them.

Earlier this year we got more than 300 Petunia plants to place all along the side of the yard, and in front.   These petunias mostly all had flowers in bloom and looked great the first day they were all planted.

But, the second day?  Almost all the flowers were eaten and many of the plant remains were nibbled down to the ground.

But this day, June 20th, when I walked out in the yard there were not many Petunias left for the deer to eat -- they had to jump over the fence, into the yard, to get to the plants.

So, I noticed this rather large doe, standing there.

The dog no longer chases them.

But the deer left smoothly and promptly.

As I walked further out into the yard with Raja not on a leash, I thought I could see something moving -- some motion just through the shrubs and tree branches.

What was it?

A fawn kicking and moving -- but not going anywhere!

I got closer and found, to my amazement, this fawn had been inside our fenced yard, possibly startled by my coming out?, and had lunged to leave -- sticking his head easily through the fence as his mother probably jumped over it.

Except, the opening in that fence, between the vertical bars, was big enough for his head, even his front end, but NOT large enough to allow the back end to move through.

(The image on the left is our actual fence, and the mother deer was seen, first, just between the two tree trunks, on the right of the image.  Notice how wide the space is between the bars of the fence!  The image on the right is the actual fence where the fawn was trapped -- notice that the bars are bent -- that is where freedom was delivered to the fawn!  There is a closer-up image below -- where the bent bars are more visible.)

What I found was this little fawn STUCK half-way through the fence, and bleating with a terrorized sound I've never heard before.

Traps can be complicated or simple. Some of the complicated traps look, indeed, complex!

This fawn was trying to get free of the terrible trap he found himself in.  He had worn away skin on his hindquarter, where it rubbed against the fence.  There was an area about the size of a dollar bill, raw and red.  He was pawing and kicking the dirt on both sides of the fence.  In front of him was the hill, slopping down, so he didn't have much chance to paw the dirt there. But behind him he had kicked up piles of dirt -- but still the trap held him!

It was not a matter of philosophical interest to HIM that it was he who put himself into that trap.

I went close -- his bleatings increased in terror and volume.

THEN I saw Mother Doe, just over the fence, with Sister Fawn, looking in fear at Brother Fawn, trapped in that terrible trap.

As I approached the Doe got more nervous and retreated.  The END of this story could have been a fawn trapped, never to be free!

Dead!  The final result of many traps found in life!

The other possibility would be, of course, a fawn free of the trap -- still a fawn, probably still terrorized, but free!

Have you ever felt yourself to be trapped?  In a body?  In a marriage?  In anything?  Generally we always enter these "traps" without ever thinking of them as traps, but they turn out to be so!

My first thought was that I could get on the other side of the fence, where the fawn's head was, and push him backwards through the fence -- he came through, so he should be able to go back.

It was not easy.  First, I was bare-footed and second I have need for another hip replacement.  I tried to climb over the fence -- but that is not the style of this 73 year old body.  Our dog, Raja, was watching closely, but not appearing hostile.

So, down the fence a way, to the gate, through, then crawling back along the fence, at the top of the slope until I reached the fawn.

Would he bite at me?  Could I touch him?

I sat near him -- but out of reach of any bite.  I could see mother not far, down the hill, with Sister Fawn, watching with great concern.

Finally I started to pet him -- hoping to give him some reassurance and he DID calm down -- got quiet.  He was obviously still in terror.

Finally I got my hand squarely against his chest -- expecting to push him backwards, through the fence.  It didn't go.  He wanted to go forward -- that is where mother and freedom lay.

I pushed a bit -- but it was obvious no movement would happen.

I sat for a while, petting him, thinking, thinking.

Then I thought about getting a crowbar and bending the fence -- so I reassured the fawn that I would be back, crawled around the fence again, went next door to borrow a crowbar.

Dorothy, next door, is about 83 and has lived in that home for about 30 years.  She feeds the coyotes, but she hates the deer.  She has very extensive gardens and the deer destroy most of them -- all the roses.

She suggested, first, getting a camera -- to record this trapped fawn.

I must admit that thought never came to my mind -- I only thought of freeing him from the trap.

She also suggested calling the Animal Shelter people.  I also never thought of that -- but thought only about what I, myself, could do.

So, I left with the crowbar while she was going to call the Animal Shelter people (on a Sunday I didn't think there would be anyone on duty!).

I tried to find a way, with that crowbar, to bend the fence -- there was no way I could place that crowbar so as to get any leverage on any bar -- the fawn just continued to bleat!

So, I sat down, a bit discouraged.  I just petted him on his hindquarters, hoping to make him a bit more calm.

Sometimes all you can do in life is try to make someone a bit more comfortable -- I didn't think I had any way of freeing the fawn from the trap.

We live on a hill.  Beyond our house is open views and many come this way to admire the scene and the sunsets.  A man and his son had driven up to look. They saw some commotion and looked more closely.  By this time some "down-the-hill" neighbors were watching and yelling encouragement.  I yelled at one of them, "Do you have any deer grease?"

The image above is taken out the back of the house, showing an arbor and one of our frequent beautiful sunsets!

The man and his son walked into our yard -- to see up close.

He wondered if his automobile jack would bend those bars.  I thought that was brilliant.  He went to his car and brought back the jack.

He fiddled with it for some time, trying to position the jack between the bars so it could be "expanded" and bend the bars.  Finally I said, "Just twist the jack 45 degrees.  It will slip in then. Then twist it back to the proper position and start the crank."

The image on the left is the "close-up" of those bent bars -- you can see that the bars needed only a slight bend to free the fawn -- and so it is with many traps -- that it takes but a small change from a trap to freedom.

He did.  It worked.   We could see that the bars were bending with ease -- and the fawn soon realized that he was held less closely in that trap.

Mother was not to be seen -- too many humans on the scene just then.

The last bit of bending -- the deer lunged forward and left the trap.

He ran like the dickens -- no broken legs -- all fear -- going toward where his mother was undoubtedly waiting.

That was the end of that story, the fawn found freedom!

But, that was not the end of my thinking about this.

Bonnie was trapped in a body and wanted to be free.  Bodies are cruel traps often, even though they are enticing pleasures at other times.  Bodies wear lipstick and have sex.  Bonnie probably felt MOST trapped on that Sunday, June 20, 2004.  My letter, dated June 21st, to the Oncologist, reflects almost the depth of that discouragement.  The "final straw" seemed, at first, like the lowest possible depths of despair, but became, as we considered it, the beginning of true freedom.  The image on the right was of Bonnie the day AFTER she received the terrible (and completely false) news that she had only a 5% chance of survival, and same day she was admitted into the Hospice to die.  She hadn't earlier  realized the reality of the trap she was in, but now was ready to escape it to a new freedom.  (See the image of Jean in February 2005, after she beat cancer and proved it can be done -- below.

Souls don't wear lipstick!  It took a reminder that dark day that Bonnie is a spiritual being, occupying a body -- the body happens to be in bad shape, but Bonnie was not in bad shape.  "You" may think you are in a trap of some sort, but when you differentiate between "you" and "your body" you find that the body, indeed, may be in bad shape, but "YOU" are not.

So, freedom for the fawn came with freedom for its body, while freedom for Bonnie came with the separation of the body from the spirit.  That has happened many times her life, but just now, as it happened again, she realized that this "separation" was "for good," and would need some preparations if she were NOT to return to that body.  The image is deliberately humorous because death and ghosts are truly NOT serious subjects once you understand them.

Fawns don't much think this way.

People can.  Bonnie did!

I thought further that originally I had an impulse to help the fawn in that trap -- no thought of exploiting the fate of the fawn to take pictures.  It was natural for me to want to help Bonnie -- initially by freeing her BODY from the trap of cancer.  It took a while to realize that there was a greater freedom -- and we chose that.  This was NOT a sad realization, but a realization with great joy!

No thought of avoiding personal responsibility -- by calling someone else to do the job.  Initially it seemed natural for me (and Bonnie) to seek the help of "cancer specialists" to help Bonnie escape the trap of cancer.  Only after contemplating the fawn did I come to realize that ONLY Bonnie could free herself from the trap of her body -- I could help there too, as you'll see in a bit.

But, I did not have adequate technology.  It is not that I couldn't have thought of an auto jack, but I didn't.  It was also true in Bonnie's case.  I didn't know "how" to help her leave her body for final freedom, but a friend, Barbara, came to give us some very useful data.    It was, like the auto jack, nothing I hadn't thought of before, but it came just when it was needed -- the "technology" for Bonnie to leave her body, with calm certainty of the future, and do this smoothly so that all her friends could share Bonnie's joy at attaining freedom.  The image on the left is Bonnie with Raja in happier days.

Why did the visitor think of the jack?  Me not?  I don't know.   Why did our friend, Barbara, think of this technology of freeing Bonnie, and we had not?  Same reason:  I don't know.

The visitor with the auto jack offered this superior technology and we both worked to apply it.  He was having a difficult time getting this superior technology applied and I saw the way clear.  Barbara reminded us of our jointly shared religion and the power of the procedure for attaining freedom.

The visitor with the auto jack did the work -- we both freed the fawn from the trap.  In the case of Bonnie, Barbara reminded us of data, but Bonnie has all the work to do -- me to help some.

That was the further end of the story, but I've thought even further about this.

Why did this heavily symbolic event happen on this particular Sunday -- when Bonnie was most desperately wanting freedom from her own trap?

Was there more to be learned here?  You see that there was a great lesson for us both to learn.  "When the student is ready the teacher will appear!"

There is, but I leave it to you to work out the further wonders to be had from this start.

With love to mankind,

Karl Loren

PS:  Here, in February 2005, about one year after my wife was first diagnosed with fatal cancer, she is a vibrant and delightful lady.

The pictures below tell the story, compared to the image above, taken in June, 2004, when she was ready to die and had been admitted into the hospice to die.

The story is told -- fully -- and I commend it to you -- all!  All these images were taken after her surgery.  The surgeon did more than 20 biopsies and found no trace of cancer.  She is doing very well!

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