Answers.
I am always seeking them.
Which means of course that I've usually got a question in need of answering, often more then just one.
Do you believe in signs?
I do.
Once I walked through a thousand acre park with my older dog and my first child. I wore my husbands coat and inside of me I carried a child or maybe just the dream of one.
I saw a crow's feather lying randomly on the green grass and I took it as a lucky sign, being so attracted to crows, ravens and black birds of any kind.
Then I saw another and another and another. A few steps more and I saw the bird, still full of sleek black feathers, pristine and perfect, dead on the ground, eyes open, dark and lifeless.
Everything changed within the hour. My little dream, like the crow was mysteriously present and not present at the same time.
My belief in signs solidified.
I never fail to miss a hawk circling above and I am forever counting crows. Once a bald eagle soared just a few feet over me while I floated in the center of a lake. The other day a Mallard rested bravely in the crowded parking lot of my daughter's school utterly oblivious to every mother inching her SUV toward the curb filled with waiting, noisy, unpredictable children.
I had my question in need of answering, while a sweet, persistent chirp resonated through the house and at last I acknowledged the sound and sought the source. A sparrow, small and common, significant and rare perched on the window sill on the wrong side of the glass.
My sign.
An hour later I had the bird in my hand, after he'd nearly committed suicide dare deviling his way out of this house. In time he landed on the carpet, stunned and concussed, I caught him reluctantly, with trepidation, intimidated about holding all 2 ounces of him in my hand. Once I did though, it became instantly addictive. It is true what they say, a bird in the hand is worth double...
He escaped me and flew deeper into the house rather then head toward any of the purposely open doors and unscreened windows. Again I trapped and caught him and this time, I spoke sweetly to him with all the love I had inside me, channeling everything I had to give into something so small and minuscule but who's heartbeat I could feel from my fingers to my very core.
I took him to the backyard and I put him gingerly onto the grass, but he seemed too vulnerable there. This time I picked him up effortlessly, third time's a charm for sure and I placed him in a bush and then he moved up to a nearby tree. He hesitated long enough for me to place all my hopes and unanswered questions onto the tips of his wings and eventually he flew away and with him, all the things I held onto released, like him, free to find the answers or not. It's all in the wind.
I don't know if I believe, believe, believe in signs, but I believe in the magnetism of being alive and present, filled with hope despite the odds and harsh realities of our world. With that openness comes the attraction of life and events, adventure and distraction and often excitement, if you are willing to become excited about possibilities in any form.
And so I move gratefully into the future moment by moment, with a wing and a prayer, if not seeking simply answers then perhaps just the continuation of questions and a reason to look for signs.
