Wednesday, July 12, 2017
Bird Power
Signs heal. I've needed a lot of self-help lately (by lately I mean the last six months or so, hence the dearth of blurbs on this little web of mine) and recently I've come upon a couple of signs that have packed a healthy dose of spiritual medicine. Thanks to a couple of powerful messages from the Universe, I've made great headway in the last couple of weeks in mending parts of me that were broken.
The most recent round of depression I've been through has been a result of feeling older but not better. Losing rather than winning. I know that's typical of going through a life-review at my age, but the banality of such self-reflection doesn't make things any easier. If anything, it makes it harder, because I don't want adjectives such as "typical" or "ordinary" applied to me. That would make me boring, too. Oh Goddess, please no, not that! So when signs appear to a veteran sign-seeker such as me, things start to look up. And signs are anything but boring. In fact, they're magical.
The signs that helped me on my path to recovering from profound self-doubt came from Nature herself, as many of the best ones do. A couple of weeks ago while walking home from yoga practice, I was waiting at a crosswalk for the light to turn green. The view from where I stood overlooks the large, urban park in my neighbourhood. I could see a small group of about five or six birds soaring high overhead in the distance. Their flight patterns clearly indicated that they were raptors of some sort, which wouldn't be unusual, since the park is home to a few species of hawk. However, the wing span of these particular raptors was much larger than any hawk. Even from the considerable distance from which I viewed the birds, I could see that they must be eagles. If this had happened a year ago, I wouldn't have come to that conclusion so readily, because the park was not home to eagles. But six months ago people began to report that a pair of bald eagles had taken up residence there.
Bald eagles! Awesome!
It was thrilling. After several minutes of gazing at the grace and beauty of these extraordinary birds in what seemed like the most unlikely of places, I rushed home to look up words that described groupings of eagles. I found several, including congregation and aerie, although my favourite word to describe a gathering of eagles is convocation, which literally means "calling together." I felt as if those birds were calling to me personally, and I received their message loud and clear.
The eagle is the emperor of the bird kingdom, and amongst other things, symbolises strength, authority, and messages from the divine. He also represents great change and renewal in the wind. It was impossible for me not to place some significance on the appearance of those proud and regal creatures when my self-esteem was at an all time low.
But the eagle isn't the only bird that's had a message for me lately. Three times in as many weeks a sparrow has landed on the window sill outside my study and tapped on the window pane. I don't know if it's the same sparrow or a different one each time, but it certainly caught my attention due to its very bold, unusual behaviour.
Sparrows are one of the smallest and most common of birds, and serve as itty-bitty prey to the mighty eagle. But despite its size, the sparrow is a tough, resilient bird, and has flourished in adverse conditions when others have failed. It shows us that even a humble little bird can triumph, which is why one of its attributes is self-worth. So I figure if a seemingly dime-a-dozen bird dressed in plain plumage represents dignity and self-worth, there must be a lesson there for me.
Although Eagle and Sparrow are spirit guides coming from polar opposites of the bird spectrum, some of their messages are very similar. I would have noticed and enjoyed seeing those birds at any time, but the unusual circumstances under which they appeared gave me pause. Those birds were speaking to me, because that's what spirit guides do. They're not called guides for nothing. And that's not New Age hooey. It's ancient wisdom.
I won't stop reading between the lines or looking beneath the surface when something out of the ordinary or special happens. Unseen, in-between places are where magic abides and healing begins. Signs are grand metaphors in the stories of our lives. Most people live without them and are perfectly fine. But I'm a writer who loves a good metaphor, and up until recently I wasn't fine. That began to change when a couple of winged messengers delivered timely wishes to get well soon.
Magic happens. Signs heal. So mote it be.
- G.P.
The most recent round of depression I've been through has been a result of feeling older but not better. Losing rather than winning. I know that's typical of going through a life-review at my age, but the banality of such self-reflection doesn't make things any easier. If anything, it makes it harder, because I don't want adjectives such as "typical" or "ordinary" applied to me. That would make me boring, too. Oh Goddess, please no, not that! So when signs appear to a veteran sign-seeker such as me, things start to look up. And signs are anything but boring. In fact, they're magical.
The signs that helped me on my path to recovering from profound self-doubt came from Nature herself, as many of the best ones do. A couple of weeks ago while walking home from yoga practice, I was waiting at a crosswalk for the light to turn green. The view from where I stood overlooks the large, urban park in my neighbourhood. I could see a small group of about five or six birds soaring high overhead in the distance. Their flight patterns clearly indicated that they were raptors of some sort, which wouldn't be unusual, since the park is home to a few species of hawk. However, the wing span of these particular raptors was much larger than any hawk. Even from the considerable distance from which I viewed the birds, I could see that they must be eagles. If this had happened a year ago, I wouldn't have come to that conclusion so readily, because the park was not home to eagles. But six months ago people began to report that a pair of bald eagles had taken up residence there.
Bald eagles! Awesome!
It was thrilling. After several minutes of gazing at the grace and beauty of these extraordinary birds in what seemed like the most unlikely of places, I rushed home to look up words that described groupings of eagles. I found several, including congregation and aerie, although my favourite word to describe a gathering of eagles is convocation, which literally means "calling together." I felt as if those birds were calling to me personally, and I received their message loud and clear.
The eagle is the emperor of the bird kingdom, and amongst other things, symbolises strength, authority, and messages from the divine. He also represents great change and renewal in the wind. It was impossible for me not to place some significance on the appearance of those proud and regal creatures when my self-esteem was at an all time low.
But the eagle isn't the only bird that's had a message for me lately. Three times in as many weeks a sparrow has landed on the window sill outside my study and tapped on the window pane. I don't know if it's the same sparrow or a different one each time, but it certainly caught my attention due to its very bold, unusual behaviour.
Sparrows are one of the smallest and most common of birds, and serve as itty-bitty prey to the mighty eagle. But despite its size, the sparrow is a tough, resilient bird, and has flourished in adverse conditions when others have failed. It shows us that even a humble little bird can triumph, which is why one of its attributes is self-worth. So I figure if a seemingly dime-a-dozen bird dressed in plain plumage represents dignity and self-worth, there must be a lesson there for me.
Although Eagle and Sparrow are spirit guides coming from polar opposites of the bird spectrum, some of their messages are very similar. I would have noticed and enjoyed seeing those birds at any time, but the unusual circumstances under which they appeared gave me pause. Those birds were speaking to me, because that's what spirit guides do. They're not called guides for nothing. And that's not New Age hooey. It's ancient wisdom.
I won't stop reading between the lines or looking beneath the surface when something out of the ordinary or special happens. Unseen, in-between places are where magic abides and healing begins. Signs are grand metaphors in the stories of our lives. Most people live without them and are perfectly fine. But I'm a writer who loves a good metaphor, and up until recently I wasn't fine. That began to change when a couple of winged messengers delivered timely wishes to get well soon.
Magic happens. Signs heal. So mote it be.
- G.P.
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