I have been wondering for two days why the bear came to us, and why he crawled into our pasture when there were so many other places for him to have gone. And wondering why he came when Ed Gulley, a deeply spiritual farmer with a passion for nature and animals, happened to be here to honor his body and take him home.

It was a coming together, there was something powerful and mystical about it. Why did we just happen to be outside when he was hit by that truck? Why did we see where he went in the marsh where he could not be seen?  If he had gone anywhere  else or come just a few minutes earlier or later, we would never have known he was here, not until  our animals discovered him or the buzzards began to circle over our farm. He would have died a horrible death.

I woke up thinking about this today,  the second anniversary of my open heart surgery, a day that was to transform, and in so many ways, enrich and alter my life.

Just a few years ago, I would have looked at the bear’s death as just another accident, one of so many in the stream of life, and left it at that.

But there was more to it than that.

Ed Gulley, who has lived among animals his whole life and knows them well, is the only person I know who could have connected with this bear in this particular way; who knew what to do with the bear’s enormous body, who lives in the way of men and women who understand animals, and know them for what they are, not for what we might want them to be.

In the country, whenever a wild animal dies on the road, the police come and they ask the closest people if they want the body. In the country, many people do, animals are taken for food and their hides. Maria and I would have said no, we could not imagine skinning a bear.

Ed said, “yes, I want him.” And it was an act of love, not pride, that was obvious.

Later, I learned through Ed’s blog and the writings of his wife Carol that Ed was in tears over the death of the bear. I could see the sadness in his face when he was here, and we all heard the piercing death cry of the 237 pound young male as he was shot for the first time.

Carol took a photo of the tear-stained entry Ed made when he wrote about bringing the bear  home in their Bejosh Farm Journal, for a proper end.

My emotions are buried deeper than Ed Gulley’s, I cannot always reach them when I want. I can hardly ever cry.  But a wave of sadness and mournfulness had come over me.

What is the likelihood of all these elements coming together – the bear injured right in front of our pasture, his decision to come to us rather than on the well-worn path he usually used, the presence of Ed, who I think of as our Daniel Boone friend, the arrival of the police and the state’s animal and environmental officers, all of this in the pasture we had newly fenced off? My renovated heart was grieving for this bear, his death touched me in a particular way I couldn’t understand.

But perhaps I could.

This morning, an e-mail from a person named Kimberly Hruby, it came to me just as I lay awake thinking about the bear, and  how different his death was from the other deaths I have known.

Kimberly was writing to share with me a passage from a book of hers called Spirit Animals – I actually have it here on the farm. She read my posts about the bear and looked up the Bear entry in her book.

The title of the chapter was “Bear – The Courage To Live With An Open Heart,” and I must say on this day especially, the title struck home and sent a chill down my spine, and a response from my heart. It is an open heart.

“If Bear has chosen to appear to you,” says the book, “it is asking you to encourage that part of yourself that lives from the strength of an open heart. Bear spirit takes power from a heart of great capacity – strengthened and motivated by love – to stand up to aggression. It refuses, even out of self-protection, to shut its heart to another. Bear understands that only that which is accomplished by love has lasting value. It fearlessly and courageously clears away the blocks to progress. Bear spirit is a powerful teacher in sensing when to cling to your innate wildness and when to yield or adapt, and how to maintain the balance between them. If  you have encountered the spirit of Bear, you will use your powerful heart to forgive and bless those you have encountered on the path already traveled, thus creating healing for the path ahead.”

So why did the bear come to us, on that night, at that time, in that way? Why did he fight so hard to climb over our fence and drag his shattered body into our pasture. Perhaps he was drawn to die near Maria, a deeply spiritual creature so closely connected to nature? Perhaps he was drawn to Ed, who loved him and the idea of him, so much.

Perhaps he came to me, at this anniversary time for my open heart. Perhaps he came to all of us, drawing all of us together in a circle we will not soon forget.

I remember that moment two years ago when i kissed Maria’s hand and was wheeled away from her, into the operating room where my heart would be stopped and I would briefly die so that I would be born again, and with an open heart. I remember wondering if I would ever touch that hand again, or hold her and love  her, I thought only briefly of how sad she might be if I never came out the other side of this morning.

We hear the term “open heart” a great deal, but we don’t often think about what it means. An open heart means feeling and trust and acceptance. That is a healthy heart, for me, a  reborn heart. I know what the bear’s spirit is telling me, I know that this is true.

In the operating room that day,  before my eyes closed and I feel asleep, I remember a young nurse patting me on the arm. “It will be fine,” she said. “In a few hours, you will have an open heart.” The last thing I remember is thinking that having been given the gift of an open heart, I must never let it close up again.

So I am coming to see that the bear came to us for many reasons, some of which can be seen and understand, some can’t be known.  I can’t say he came for me, I don’t think he came for any one of us. I think he came for all of us. I thought that when I saw Maria climb into Ed’s pickup truck and hold the bear’s giant paw in his hand, and offer his spirit comfort as it left on its own journey.

I thought he had come for Ed, who connected with him in ways that are perhaps beyond me.

It is true that a part of me lives from the strength of my new and open heart. I had been given a heart of great capacity, it was my mission to use it well.

I take power from the idea of standing in my truth, and against aggression whenever I find it around me. I no longer shut my heart to others. Love is the point, love is what matters.

So many things came together that night out in the pasture, as we waited for the officer to kill the bear and end his suffering. If you open your heart, I know now, the meaning of things will come to you. And you can hear and feel them.