It's a gorgeous day here in Western Oregon, I woke up to beautiful blue sunshine although I think the rain clouds are now winning the battle for control of the skies. I was sitting outside on the deck earlier soaking up some Vitamin D (D for delicious, divine, delightful) with my 2 beautiful goddess cats Athena and Minerva and listening to a chorus of birds singing, chattering and twirping - and I remembered an incredible moment that happened to me a while back that really kickstarted this desire to breathe life into my divine spark and live my life more colorfully. I thought I'd share it here just to cement it more firmly in my mind....
My family recently moved about 1 1/2 hours further north along the I-5. The almost 2 years leading up to the actual move were some of the most tumultuous, stressful, life altering months of my life (and my husband and kids!). But by early January 2010 that transition stage was over - we were moved in, mostly unpacked, getting settled in and feeling like our new location was home. I had started doing my job via the telephone and internet with the understand that I would occasionally make the journey back down the freeway to check in. On this particular day I had taken my dog with me to the office (Yes, I am blessed!) which is about 1/2 block from a beautiful city park with bike trails and river banks and forest paths. I took Foppa out, equipped with a couple of plastic doggy bags, and headed for the park loop.
Now as I said, that big messy transition stage was over, but I was still feeling in flux. I could look back over the stressful times and honestly be grateful for them and everything I had learned, how I had grown, and where it had all gotten me. But I was kind of in a "now what" place. My mind was mulling things over as Foppa and I finished the loop and headed down the bike path that runs along the river. Just as we came to a gap in the trees I noticed a huge bird circling over the muddy brown water and as I stopped to look at it, it seemed to stop and look at me. This magnificent, enormous, beautiful, awesome Bald Eagle headed straight for us and perched in the top of a bare poplar tree not 20 feet from where I was standing. She turned her back on all the fish in that river and looked straight down at me! I was awestruck and would have stood there gaping forever but Foppa hadn't noticed the giant predator that probably thought she looked easier than a salmon and kept pulling on the leash to continue on our walk. So, I said thank you to the Eagle and kept going.
Now, being the woo-woo Deva that I am, I knew that Eagle was a sign. But, of what? I decided to google Eagle symbolism when I got back to my desk and kept on walking. Moments later when I stopped to use one of the doggy bags I had brought along, I notice a tiny Junco bird hopping around in the bushes. (Juncos were my Grandma Gladys' favorite, and I always think of her.) Suddenly I realized that the bushes and ground and trees and undergrowth were ALIVE with birds. There were hundreds if not thousands of them - tiny sparrows, juncos and chickadees as well as robins, starlings, and as I continued on, two crows chasing away a falcon. It was amazing that what I had thought was silence was suddenly filled with a symphony of bird song.
I'm happy to say that for once I recognized that prickle in the center of my chest like there's blood or energy or something beautiful rushing into my heart and knew something was up. "OK," I whispered, "What's up? What am I suppose to learn here?" And almost instantly, there was that voice - you know, the one that you don't hear very often, which sounds like your own voice in the back of your own head, but which you know you didn't come up with entirely on your own? And it said, "Birds don't hibernate, they migrate."
It was winter, and I had just migrated. And unlike the birds, I was on the verge of hibernating like I had done so many winters before. I was in danger of falling back into old patterns and paradigms that were easy and for the most part comfortable but which would leave me feeling out of focus and unfulfilled. I realized that all those tiny birds were busy, they were working their little tail feathers off, but you couldn't help but think they were having the time of their lives. The message for me was clear, don't you dare hibernate. Don't sit on your ass and wish and dream and hope. Get up and make something beautiful! It doesn't matter if you don't know how - do something, anything.
The Eagle was gone when we passed under the poplar tree on our way back, but I did google native american animal symbols when I got to my computer. The Eagle represents a higher, broader, more divine perspective. It's also a reminder, I think, that every journey, every goal, every dream is a spiritual one and that every transition doesn't lead to a place, it leads to a new transition.
This was a long one! Have the Reddest day ever!
In Grace,
Kell
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