Friday, February 27, 2015

My Guide

Owl and I have been friends for a long time.

I paid attention and listened to my very first owl when I spent some time in an Alaskan village. Even as a teenager I felt an immediate connection to the bird, knowing deep inside there was something more to him than just his enchanting call before dawn. I knew the Owl would forever be my guide.

Lately, I've been going to the trees where the owls live. I see the nest, the same nest that has been there year after year. There is one particular tree I've come to know that houses my favorite bird, where I've witnessed ravens antagonizing and diving and circling her nest on more than one occasion. The familiar tree where underneath her branches I find packed grey pellets and tuck them in my pockets. Under that tree, I have buried newborn owlets that landed there from an accidental fall, or perhaps tossed out for whatever reason or maybe those ravens were just too persistent. Last year I waited and waited for her to give birth. Then, finally one day I saw she had had two. They were fuzzy and white with big eyes and black beaks, lying dead under that tree. I've mourned under that giant spruce more times than I'd like to admit.

A friend of mine told me that he saw the mama owl's ears poking out of the nest recently, but I have not. She must be hunkered down deep. Even with my binoculars I cannot see her. But, I do know she's up there. Yesterday I stood under her blue spruce like a soldier. I stood tall and gently closed my eyes and whispered "Are you there?" I repeated it again. "Are you there?"

I needed someone to talk to. I wanted someone to listen. I was hoping for some answers to all the questions in my head. The what if's, the how come's and the question I most often ask myself these days is why. So much of my life has been a beautiful journey. I've never wanted for much. I was taught all the right things and was given great advice from my parents. Two individuals offering their daughter ideas that couldn't be more opposite. Still, I see now that through the years I blended both philosophies and became who I am today. I am unique for sure. There is only one of me.

Basically what I've been pondering so much these days is, simply, life. What is the meaning of it all? Why am I here? Am I doing what I'm supposed to be doing? Am I giving of myself in the right way? Is there a right way? Have I done the best I can for my parents who have given me so much? How can I do more? Am I on the right path? What is missing?

I'm in deep thought lately. I've not done much else but think about this and think about that, taking inventory of my life; the choices I've made. And what about my future? What will that look like, I wonder? Oh, it's plain to see why I'm questioning everything. It's because I'm afraid. I'm worried sick about my dear mother who has fractured her spine and cannot walk. My heart hurts for her. I keep asking why her? Three months ago she was swimming like a fish. Three months ago she was dancing in the kitchen and strolling the Morro Bay Boardwalk arm in arm with my father. My mother is energetic and athletic and so full of life. Her nickname growing up in Liverpool, England was "Buzz." She won a little silver medal in a gymnastics contest. A teenage girl tumbling and cartwheeling and performing layouts and stag jumps. She gave it to me long ago and now I hold that shiny token in my hand.

I look to nature when I'm feeling low. When life seems unfair, when I'm heavy hearted, I talk to the owls. That's why I've been standing under that tree. Because I know they are listening. They offer me their vision and I leave with a new perspective, a deeper meaning of life and more importantly, to not fear death.

The presence of the owl announces Change. A life transition.

That was what I heard when I asked "Are you there?" Only this time, the answer came from the male owl, her lifelong and constant companion beckoning me from another blue spruce, forty paces away. I walked over to his tree and we stared at each other for a minute. Then that owl winked at me, I thanked him and turned and walked away. His soft hoots, a deep and low sound with a pausing rhythm, he called hoo-h’HOO-hoo-hoo. And he made so much sense.

Owl Symbolism:

  • Intuition, ability to see what others do not see
  • The presence of the owl announces change
  • Capacity to see beyond deceit and masks
  • Wisdom

I own them all. And I am grateful.

Wa Laum

(That is all)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

24 comments:

  1. Oh, sister, your post is so sad yet so beautiful. I know how it feels to ache for your parent, to want to take away their pain, to wish it had all never happened.
    But, you're there for your mom and that's the best gift you can give....the gift of yourself.
    Meanwhile, let the owls be your guide and know that you are in my heart.
    xoxo

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You know just how I'm feeling, don't you? Thank you for staying close.
      My heart aches a little less now. You're always so supportive, Julie.
      xo

      Delete
  2. It's natural for you to be questioning so many things as your mom's life (and yours) changes so much. I so hope she will get better and walk again. Your winking owl is lovely! I think he's a wise one to listen and counsel. :) Your writing is a lovely tribute to your mom. I forgot to tell you I found my first owl pellets a month ago when the snow melted near the garden - quite exciting, though they were mostly mush and bones.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yeah, I suppose all these questions and agonizing just comes with age! ;)
      I'm allowing myself this. I just don't want to feel sorry for myself. My mom is always saying to me, "chin up!" That's so typical of her. ;)
      I appreciate so very much, your kind words here. Really, I do.
      I know, that winking owl! Too funny.
      And so exciting about your pellet discovery! Hope you find a nice dry, hard one! Haha
      xo

      Delete
  3. geweldig mooi wat kan je dat heel goed.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you for the nice things you say. Always.
      I appreciate it a lot, Bas.
      xo

      Delete
  4. The picture of his wink speaks volumes. What a gift. It's as if he's telling you, it's going to be ok.

    It's going to be ok, hun.

    Blessing.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. My wise & caring sis,
      You were right. It's a miracle, I cannot lie!
      Last evening, I called my mom. Big day for her! She walked ten steps!
      Thanks to my little brother who encouraged her. She locked her arm in his and they walked around the kitchen! Joy. Elation. It is HUGE.
      That owl's wink really did mean something! Hey hey.
      Much love to you, San.
      xo

      Delete
  5. oh, lynn. i had checked your blog earlier in the day yesterday but something compelled me to check it again on my phone late last night. after i read it i had to sleep on your words and images-- i just couldn't put words together to respond. and now i see good news in your updates, news that your mother has taken steps! i am so glad to hear that, for all of you!
    your questions about life certainly ring clear and true to me-- am i doing enough, why, is there a right way... it's confusing and curiously ungrounding to be consumed with worry for a parent who has been bedrock for your entire life. it begs the questions when someone we love so deeply suffers. i struggle with the questions daily, and recently realized that it has altered my reality as time has passed. it has also made me realize that it is only the present moment that we have-- perhaps that is a function of age alone, but i know it is compounded by the reality that we can not be in control of what the future brings.
    i hold you and your parents in my thoughts, and as a believer in miracles hold hope that her first ten steps are the beginning of thousands to come. as she recovers, perhaps she needs a bit of yarn and some needles in her hands. there is something so healing in the feeling of productivity.
    love to you xoxo

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. We only have this moment. No guarantees. No expectations. We question things, the same. We are close in age and until you see what your aging parents go through, you just don't know.
      I knew you would know what to say. How to keep me calm and feeling alright about things now and what may come my way.
      My mother is knitter, you know. But...she broke her wrist when she fell. She gets her cast off on Thursday! Then, I might just ask her if I can get her some yummy wool to make something! Good idea, Janet.
      How can I thank you enough for all the kindness you've shown me?
      xo

      Delete
  6. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  7. you chose well, the owl.

    i hold you in my heart. you, and your mum.
    bless her soul and her bones.

    xO

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You are always held in our hearts, Bernard.
      My mum loves bears. :)
      That darn owl. He is a healer.
      xOO

      Delete
  8. Dear prairie girl,
    I'm so sorry.
    Love,
    Stephanie

    "As many times as I blink, I'll think of you tonight."

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I have something for you, Stephy. Wink.
      Thank you for being here. As always. Kisses to you and your kitties.
      xo

      Delete
  9. Oh, Lynn.
    I'm glad that you can get out and let Nature be a salve to your troubled spirit. She always listens without judgement.
    Keep your actions rooted in Love.
    xx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I already know, that with all the love in my heart for my mom, she is on her way.
      I think my other brother is coaxing her to the swimming pool!!
      Those animals, that owl, the peace in nature is helping so much. Mending me.
      Love having your voice here. So much.
      xo

      Delete
  10. So glad your lovely Mom has taken some steps. I too just stand under the trees sometimes when I need answers, not always from owls but just the tranquility and the feeling that someone somewhere is listening. You are always in my thoughts and prayers xx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Aud, keep going to those trees. Keep standing. You will be heard!
      Then you will hear them too.
      Love to you, Cousin.
      xo

      Delete
  11. Hey Lynn ~ For some reason I can't reply to you above.... I'm behind you in prayer. All things are possible - 10 steps!!!! We all pray strength to your mum's spine and all motor functions involved in walking.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Last I heard, she makes "laps" around the living room with the assistance of Guitar Whitey! (My dad)
      I'm grateful for your prayers and friendship, you know! :)
      xo

      Delete
  12. oh Lynn, i'm sending all my prayers for your mom. I wish i could be there and bring you coffee. but i know that things will be alright. bear hugs

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Niken, I would love nothing more than to have you here. We will toast with our coffees and everything will surely be alright.
      Means a lot, your kind words.
      xo

      Delete