Owl Returns Sun, 18th August, 2013
This past week I was blessed by the return of the beautiful Barred Owl. It was on Thursday morning, late enough in the morning that I would have expected her to be asleep for the day. As I was beginning my day and she was ending hers, our paths crossed.
I was slowly walking up the path toward, cooling down after my run, when I happened to glance up and saw her sitting motionless on a tree branch next to the trail. Wanting the encounter to last as long as possible, I stopped and sat down on the ground. Our eyes locked and we just took each other in for several minutes. It was probably the most significant exchange I'd ever had with a wild creature.
It's easy to see why in Native American spirituality the owl represents the ability to see deeply inside people and reveal secrets. Because owls can't move the eyes within their sockets, their gaze looks like a fixed stare that can be unsettling—I felt like she was looking right into my very soul.
Of course it's easy to try to read too much into things, but I believe the timing of the owl's appearance has great meaning. The first time was about five months ago, as I was just beginning my spiritual awakening. At the time, I interpreted the owl's appearance as foreshadowing my own death, that is, the imminent demise of the person that I was. Not that my journey is complete by any means—nor will it ever be as long as I am alive and thinking—but at this point the old "asleep" me is now essentially dead and buried and there's no turning back.
The owl's reappearance this time seems more about the truth of owl medicine—the ability to see into people's souls and know their secrets and their hidden longings. As I have shared in recent blog posts, I continue to feel the call of ministry. And one of the first calls came last night, literally. A young friend of mine, whom I've met online but not in person, had romantic woes and just wanted someone to talk to, someone to provide reassurance that life would go on.
Like the owl, I was able to sit quietly and just take in everything this friend was saying. I could hear the loneliness, the desire for human connection and the fear of losing family and community. Like dusty books on shelves, there is so much knowledge available to us about people but we rarely access it. The lesson of the owl is that we can always afford to take a few moments to take the book in our hands, part the pages, and take in a few moments of truth.
Or maybe it doesn't even have to be another person. You can access hidden knowledge about virtually anything you encounter in life. Open your eyes wide and sit quietly long enough to fully take it in. You'll be amazed at how much is there, waiting to be discovered.
I wish you peace and self-knowledge as you prepare for another busy week.
This past week I was blessed by the return of the beautiful Barred Owl. It was on Thursday morning, late enough in the morning that I would have expected her to be asleep for the day. As I was beginning my day and she was ending hers, our paths crossed.
I was slowly walking up the path toward, cooling down after my run, when I happened to glance up and saw her sitting motionless on a tree branch next to the trail. Wanting the encounter to last as long as possible, I stopped and sat down on the ground. Our eyes locked and we just took each other in for several minutes. It was probably the most significant exchange I'd ever had with a wild creature.
It's easy to see why in Native American spirituality the owl represents the ability to see deeply inside people and reveal secrets. Because owls can't move the eyes within their sockets, their gaze looks like a fixed stare that can be unsettling—I felt like she was looking right into my very soul.
Of course it's easy to try to read too much into things, but I believe the timing of the owl's appearance has great meaning. The first time was about five months ago, as I was just beginning my spiritual awakening. At the time, I interpreted the owl's appearance as foreshadowing my own death, that is, the imminent demise of the person that I was. Not that my journey is complete by any means—nor will it ever be as long as I am alive and thinking—but at this point the old "asleep" me is now essentially dead and buried and there's no turning back.
The owl's reappearance this time seems more about the truth of owl medicine—the ability to see into people's souls and know their secrets and their hidden longings. As I have shared in recent blog posts, I continue to feel the call of ministry. And one of the first calls came last night, literally. A young friend of mine, whom I've met online but not in person, had romantic woes and just wanted someone to talk to, someone to provide reassurance that life would go on.
Like the owl, I was able to sit quietly and just take in everything this friend was saying. I could hear the loneliness, the desire for human connection and the fear of losing family and community. Like dusty books on shelves, there is so much knowledge available to us about people but we rarely access it. The lesson of the owl is that we can always afford to take a few moments to take the book in our hands, part the pages, and take in a few moments of truth.
Or maybe it doesn't even have to be another person. You can access hidden knowledge about virtually anything you encounter in life. Open your eyes wide and sit quietly long enough to fully take it in. You'll be amazed at how much is there, waiting to be discovered.
I wish you peace and self-knowledge as you prepare for another busy week.
