My question of the day has been mostly about what it is that I need to let go of, as well as what I need to do to get to the truth and knowledge of my role in this life. While these are two seemingly different questions, the end result of the asking is about what I need to do to move forward, stepping into a position of healing and helping those who are seeking either and both.
My first encounter with the answer to this overall question was in becoming aware of a sound coming from a dead snag, along the trail. At first, I thought it might be a bird call. Yet, it seemed to be more likely the voices of baby birds, in the absence of their mother. Sure enough, in but a few moments, a mother Woodpecker arrived at a hole in the side of the snag, entered, and the voices fell silent. Almost as quickly, she headed back out, most likely in search of more food for the babies. Woodpecker indicates a new opportunity knocking at the door, a change occurring. Witnessing Woodpecker in the midst of her delivering food to her family additionally indicates, to me, a beginning of some sort.
On down the trail, and a bit later for sure, I became aware of this sense of my writings. Writing, though not really a passion for me, has always served as a means for me to let go of thoughts, ideas, poetry or some form of creativity that dwells within. It also has served as a means of therapy. All too often, when I have a concern, a question, or just something to express that requires some sort of solution or answer, I find that by writing it out, the answer may come as quickly as it is written, or at least in relatively short order. Additionally, I have found that when thoughts and ideas get to rattling around in my head to the point that they need to be let go of, writing them out serves to give them wings and so release them from thought, allowing space for more creativity and wisdom to flow into and through me. It can serve as a means of continuing the flow of energy through me, rather than being bottled up within, which settles into my bones as much as the soft tissue of my body.
No sooner did I get the strongest sense of my propensity toward writing than I heard the call of a bird, at the next bend in the trail. It was a single syllable whistle not unlike that of someone calling my attention. I headed to the area that call came from and stood there, announcing aloud that, “I have all day” to write (this being Sunday and me with nothing else that I need be doing). As soon as I said these words, I looked out in front of me directly at a place on the ground several feet in front of me, discovering a lone feather from a Spotted Owl, lying on it’s side, on the ground. I heard the words “La Plume”. I know that is french for the feather. However, it is also used in reference to a pen. The latter meaning striking a very strong chord in indicating a confirmation that indeed I need to expand on the writing I have been doing, to encompass all that is flowing through me these days.
Additionally, The
Owl feather being presented to me falls in line with my sense of
getting more involved in writing (the feather, or quill, being one of
the earliest means of writing with ink). Owl is also about being able to
see that which is hidden, as well as trusting your inner wisdom.
From there I headed back to my truck and had gotten halfway there when I happened upon a broken Robin’s egg, in the middle of the trail. Finding the Robin’s egg could mean that something is awry in this situation. However, Robin indicates stimulation of new growth and renewal. Finding the egg with no sign of a yolk, to me signifies the beginning of life, as in the chick emerging from the egg.
From a walk in the Woods that started out more intended toward noticing the way that the various Trees have formed their roots in sometimes adverse situations, and even situations that no longer exist (as in the case of trees which initially sprouted and grew along downed logs or stumps), it wasn’t long before Mother Nature once again directed my attention toward other solutions.
Peter J Quandt