'If I was the kind of person who believed in omens...', I thought. Oh. Wait.
It was the day my brother and I were going with our father to the hospital, where he was due to have an MRI. A month after his wife had died in the same place. On the way to his house I found my usual route closed and had to drive round the long way. Bah.
Waiting at a busy roundabout my eyes were drawn to some crows at the side of the road. I did a double take, blinked and I swear one of them had two beaks. No one I've told believes me but damn it I saw it! A two-beaked crow?
We were half way to the hospital when the car got a flat tyre. Parked up in a lay-by while my brother changed the wheel, I walked away from the car to call the hospital and let them know we'd be late. I looked down at my feet and there was an owl. A tawny owl. Dead. Not a mark on her. She must have been clipped by a car, poor soul. I picked her up and moved her away from the road and into the grass, offering a little blessing to her.
We got to the MRI suite and discovered it was the one that had been named, in a competition, by our youngest brother's (extremely) errant ex-partner. Of whom none of us are fond.
Despite this catalogue of whatever-they-ares, the scan was quick. Results will take a fortnight but I don't think they'll find anything they shouldn't.
So what's with all the signs? Maybe I needed to appreciate that not everything is a sign. Sometimes a two-beaked crow is just a two-beaked crow. Sometimes you're just gonna find a tawny owl at your feet. Some days the road is just closed.
However, this is me after all so let's not get silly. I prefer to see it all as simple reminders that, despite my underlying concern, there is magic everywhere.
An owl, in some beliefs, can represent the spirit of a recently departed family member or loved one. Perhaps my father had his wife with him for this visit. A crow, among many profound and powerful things, is also known as messenger, often from a loved one who has recently passed over. I choose that. And so it is.
These weeks, and more to come, have been filled with chances to do something for someone other than myself. As a partner and mother with two dogs that's not unusual but reaching further than my immediate 'house family' is not something I've often done or had time for. Suddenly I'm also running errands for both parents, helping with various tasks, providing practical support for my sister and for friends who need a hand. It would be quite easy to think,'Bloody hell what about me? When do I get to do my stuff?' and I have tried on that feeling. It didn't stick. At all. It feels good to be able to help. I've come to recognise one of my strengths is that I'm pretty good in a crisis without even trying. I'm good to be leant on. Maybe that is 'my stuff'.
If you have some time this weekend here's some good looking and listening:
- Sandra Ingerman on the Sounds True podcast. I've listened three times because she speaks my language and her thoughts on transfiguration into light work perfectly for me at the moment.
- My favourite photographer and Kiwi person, Leonie Wise shares images from her trip to Japan on Steller.
- Why I am so happy to have reconnected with my yoga teacher. Wisdom from a fellow night-dancer. And the best taste in music.
- This. Because of all of it.
- I grew up loving and listening to Just A Minute, back in the days when among the regular panelists were Clement Freud and Kenneth Williams. Imagine my joy at hearing my TV boyfriend ace his first attempt at it. The BBC say it's 'probably' the first time a newcomer has done so. #notjustaprettyface #I'llprobablysayyeswhenheproposes
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