The Eagle
The day started with my usual meditation which ended with tears rushing down my cheeks in silence, feeling Hunter's absence in my cells, flowing in my veins- a sickly sweet numbing intoxicant. Yoga was not happening, just didn't have the mojo. So I settled into Hunter's recliner and began to write, words pouring out and into the pen, onto the paper, words of fury, and why and how the fuck is this my life path? Some days I lean hard on the evidence that Hunter is still around, he isn't really gone, he has just transitioned to another place. But today, I just wasn't having it. Isn't it interesting that there's a name for a man who loses his wife, a wife who loses her husband, a child that loses her parent? There is no such word for a mother that loses her only child. We need a new language for grief and mourning.
...
Fortunately, I had a massage scheduled today and allowed myself to sink into the extraordinary nurturing and exquisite tenderness that flowed out of Laura. I am giving myself this gift every week, knowing that I have to take good care to mitigate the stress of sorrow. Afterward, I headed up to the grave, laid out my blue Mexican blanket, and asked Hunter for a sign. When I looked up a flock of what looked like black butterflies was flying over the trees and right towards me. After studying these little helicopters I realized they were maple seed pods! Oddly this little flock showed up, flew over me, and landed-- and after that only a few at a time twisted their way to the earth.
...
As I was looking up I noticed two ospreys soaring high above me-- and silently thanked them for coming. When I looked once again at the grave decoration I noticed that someone had delicately woven mini ivory roses into the flowers I'd placed there. It feels good to know people are visiting and sitting with Hunter here. Just as I was about to get up to leave, I took one more 360-degree look, and there, off to the south, was a golden eagle. It was behaving strangely (to my uneducated eyes)-- folding its wings in, hovering, then out, staying in the same place for several minutes. I asked for it to come closer and it did-- allowing me to confirm that indeed it was a golden. In the last rays of the afternoon sun I took it all in-- the birds, the warm sun in the crisp air, the helicopter seed pods (and oddly, 2 actual helicopters flew overhead as well-- which I've never seen before). My rage had dissipated and all I had energy for was the moment. I went home, made a butterfly with flower petals, and settled in for the evening, grateful for small miracles.
Eagle Poem
BY JOY HARJO
To pray you open your whole self
To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon
To one whole voice that is you.
And know there is more
That you can’t see, can’t hear;
Can’t know except in moments
Steadily growing, and in languages
That aren’t always sound but other
Circles of motion.
Like eagle that Sunday morning
Over Salt River. Circled in blue sky
In wind, swept our hearts clean
With sacred wings.
We see you, see ourselves and know
That we must take the utmost care
And kindness in all things.
Breathe in, knowing we are made of
All this, and breathe, knowing
We are truly blessed because we
Were born, and die soon within a
True circle of motion,
Like eagle rounding out the morning
Inside us.
We pray that it will be done
In beauty.
In beauty.
Eagle Symbolism:
If an individual has been going through a hard time, eagle not only signals a new beginning but provides that person with the stamina and resilience to endure the difficulties. If an eagle has appeared, it bestows freedom and courage to look ahead. The eagle is symbolic of the importance of honesty and truthful principles. Summon the eagle when you are about to embark on a challenge, a massive life change, or a creative endeavor.
