Signs
magical direction when I needed it most
There is a spectacular canyon in my neighborhood. It has been etched into the earth by the passage of time, its walls bearing witness. I go there often as the canyon beckons my heart to recognize its blessings. However, because my humanity accompanies me to the edge of the cliff, far too often I carry my distractions and worries with me which block my view.
One recent morning I stood at the edge of the ravine without the usual baggage (it was one of those days when the stars align and you wake up feeling awesome), looking out at the mountains in the foggy, autumn mist, utterly alone in one of Earth’s most spectacular places. I was fully there in a way I can rarely recall and it’s difficult to explain.
I watched as a solitary bird floated down the canyon, wafting through the mist, breathtaking in its simplicity. Eventually, the bird came toward me and another bird came from the trees to meet it, as if it had been waiting. They soared off together leaving me subtly transformed.
I continued my walk, traveling a path I’ve done countless times, coming to the gaggle of turkeys my neighbor keeps in her yard. They were all up in the trees (for the first time ever) and as I walked towards them they came swooping down toward me making a lot of noise! It was quite unnerving!
I hadn’t even rounded the corner when I encountered the unusual (as in never seen before in my community, only elsewhere) sight of a hundred birds on the grass of the field. Sitting there, eating, hanging out.
In the last few years most of my signs have come in the form of birds. I am not a bird person necessarily, they chose me. They make their presence known in an unmistakable way so that I can’t miss it. Therefore I knew something was up, I just didn’t know what it was.
I walked home from ‘our’ canyon (the audacity!) and as I came in the door my husband gently told me while I was out I’d had an urgent phone call about my Mom. That information led to me sitting here in palliative care while she lay dying and what is happening in this small room warps time making it stretchy and non-linear. Having a human heart with the capacity to beat (her) and the ability to intensely feel all things at once (me) has also become stretchy and non-linear. The mountains, mist, birds…stretchy.
I am writing now because I write to BE, it’s how I get through being a human. I am tender and stretchy and my words on the page offer sanctuary for which I am grateful. In this raw vulnerability, I am held by my faith, I am loved by my family and friends - natural, chosen, old, new - and I am sustained by my writing.
It’s fascinating (that’s my word for so damn difficult) to be called to step fully into all the stuff I teach: being fully present, allowing all the feelings without stuffing them down, giving permission for the hard and the easy, the joy and the grief.
Do birds fly in that canyon all the time? Yes. But that day it looked and felt very different. Did I see the spirit of my Mom telling me she was preparing to go and my Dad came to get her? I believe I did and this vision has sustained me in these dark days. Perhaps the turkeys swooping down, shrieking at me, was a symbol of the difficult process of leaving the human body and the ugly struggle it became. What if the birds on the lawn were the calm, beautiful souls that were waiting to usher my Mom into peace?
If we look for the magic it will come, it may offer comfort, it may offer direction. The thing that is bigger than anything we can currently understand with our minds and measurements is there for us to lean on, whatever we call it.
By the time you read this my life will have been forever changed. Thank you for standing with me, thank you for being here. It means so much.
xox Donna
P.S. Hearing from you means the world to me but I have turned off the comments for this post. I know you understand. I feel your love through the ❤ button, one of the weird, but true, crazy things about our tech world.