Swan Flake

I'm obsessed with swans lately.  It's another sign, totem, spirit guide or what-you-will that's entered my life and is now taking up a lot of space in my mind.  I don't have a problem with that.  Swans are beautiful, graceful creatures, and dwelling on the qualities of grace and beauty is far preferable to worrying about things like global warming or the Syrian refugee crisis.
This lovely turn of mind happened because I came upon a poem by Rilke called "The Swan."  The particular translation I first read is by Robert Bly, and since I found the words both meaningful and mellifluous, I'm using Bly's exquisite version here.  It adds some class to this little web of mine.

The Swan

This clumsy living that moves lumbering
as if in ropes through what is not done,
reminds us of the awkward way the swan walks.

And to die, which is the letting go
of the ground we stand on and cling to every day,
is like the swan, when he nervously lets himself down
into the water, which receives him gaily
and which flows joyfully under
and after him, wave after wave,
while the swan, unmoving and marvelously calm,
is pleased to be carried, each moment more fully grown,
more like a king, further and further on.

There are several subtle layers of meaning to this beautiful piece, but what moved me first and foremost was the image of a creature of beauty and grace "lumbering" on land to reach his element - water.  Though awkward and ungainly on land, he is still a swan.  He is the ugly duckling of Hans Christian Andersen's tale, growing and moving towards the graceful creature he is destined to be, and always has been.
As a spirit guide the swan represents the already mentioned attributes of grace and beauty, as well as commitment and love, because swans are monogamous animals.  Swans are sacred in many diverse cultures.  They are associated with balance, divination, intuition, and spirit.  Coming into one's own with Swan as a spirit guide is to find equanimity, beauty and grace.
Rilke's poem inspires me.  It reminds me that as I stumble and struggle on my path to finding my bliss, to going home, I will eventually find peace and gentility in the place where I truly belong. 
And need I mention that after reading "The Swan" just over a couple of weeks ago, images of swans keep turning up in my life?  They're proliferating like crazy and I'm paying attention.  And even if I were magically challenged and didn't ascribe any significance to the swan's appearance in my life, at least I'm blessed with numerous images of a beautiful bird. 

Valentine's Day is coming up so I'm seeing a lot of them on greeting cards because I work in bookish retail, but Swan is appearing in less likely places as well.  Last week one of my yoga instructors referred to an asana usually called "pigeon" as "swan."  I'd never heard that term before to describe the beautiful, hip-opening pose done lying on the mat.  Although I have nothing against pigeons, I much prefer "swan" as a name for the asana, especially in light on my current obsession. 
I've been having hip and lower back problems lately, (sometimes aging can be very inconvenient), so what would normally have been a comfortable, easy position for me was painful and difficult to do.  The irony did not escape me.  I felt like the swan of Rilke's poem lumbering to reach his true home; out of his element, but a swan nonetheless.  As usual, my concern for the state of my aging body was pleasantly mitigated by a lovely bit of synchronicity.  I managed to smile and wince at the same time as I held the pose.  
Coming to bliss is taking a long time, my whole life it seems, and though I often feel like a lame duck, I'm not singing my swan song yet.  I'm not doing that until I'm good and finally home. 
Blessed be.
- G.P.