It’s a gray autumnal morning here, chilly and slightly damp. The clouds hang low, as if to protect the nascent day and those of us who dwell in it. It makes for a gentle awakening, for us and for the world, something much needed here after a long and arduous weekend.
The events of recent days have forced our thoughts down somber paths — ruminations on life and contemplation of what comes after, of the ways and means that we are given to navigate both, and the spaces that lie between. And once again, we have seen signs not only of those spaces, but of the spirit’s ability to traverse them, when the need or the desire is strong enough.
And so, my mind turns naturally to thoughts of Eagle, the messenger of the spirits, the one with the ability to serve as intermediary, carrying our own words skyward in the form of prayers. At times like this, those prayers often assume the amorphous shape of grief and loss, less prayer perhaps than the simple sound of aching hearts and wounded souls. The form of the words matters than what lies beneath them; the spirits know how to discern their meaning.
In our way, of course, loss is only part of the story, only one line in the prayer that is life. The outside world has a saying that, stripped to its bones, refers to karmic vengeance: What goes around comes around. We know the essential truth of these words, but in the context of a vastly different meaning: In our way, the world, life, all of existence is a sacred hoop, and what is has been before and will be again; what is lost to us in the here and now nevertheless has its place elsewhere, and that is as it should be. It is in this way that our own lives and spirits are braided with those of ancestors long walked on and with the seventh generation not yet born, and with all of those between and beyond with whom we are bound by blood and tradition and time. We know that those who we have “lost” have nonetheless found the place where they are to be at this time, and while it is no longer time for us to walk together upon the earth, there remain ways of perceiving their presence in our lives.
When we look heavenward and see Eagle fly above us, we are reminded of that essential fact of our existence: that there is no definable beginning, no end, but merely new places around the hoop that perhaps keep us more distant from each other for a time, but whose changing patterns will ensure that we will meet again one day. Eagle has the ability to fly between those spaces, to soar on currents that take him beyond our sight, to glide between those small, tight places that we define by the limited language given to us as “here” and “there,” as “life” and “death.”
On this day, however, what strikes me most about Eagle is the sense of freedom that infuses his being: aloft on the winds, wings stroking powerfully through the currents, gliding high above the earth in spaces and places we can see but not really perceive. Eagle’s flight holds the promise of navigating beyond this world, into the one beyond — in a spirit that is free, and light, and full of joy.
~ Aji
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