InnerPoetry.com

I had a dream last night. Of course there was much I don’t remember, or can’t quite piece together, but the part that stayed with me until morning demanded further examination.

I am standing at sliding glass doors at the back of a house when a flicker of movement catches my eye. I look up and become aware of a large hawk perched just above me. There is a squirrel sitting next to it on a long tree branch that is somehow sticking out from the house. My first thought is that the hawk is going to eat the squirrel and is just waiting to attack. Suddenly a second hawk appears on the other side of the squirrel. And then, as I watch, the hawks take the small animal, each by a little front arm, and begin flying away from the house, the squirrel scampering down the tree branch as though on the plank of a pirate ship. When they reach the end of the branch the three of them move into the air, the hawks carrying the squirrel. I am besieged with sorrow, my heart hurting for the squirrel who I am convinced is being taken to some hawk den to become dinner. I feel the squirrel’s fear and helplessness. I am telling someone else this and they say…don’t associate with the squirrel, but with the hawk - the power and the strength. But somehow, I just can’t. And there, the dream ends.

I wake and of course wonder what this dream could possibly mean. I go through some immediate translations, well, mostly one: I am the small and helpless squirrel, about to get eaten, which, I admit, is a bit unnerving. I keep trying instead to place myself within the power of the hawk, but it eludes me. After some time spent meditating and just staring out the back windows of my home, some other thoughts emerge.

I have always been fascinated by dreams, have kept dream journals and often find myself mulling over what my psyche may be grappling with or telling me through its night wanderings. The symbolism of animals and birds is another whole study, and because they frequent my dreams, the two studies have naturally melded on occasion. So, as I sat rolling this one around in my head, here is what arose:

Squirrels are busy little creatures, always in motion, always active - finessed at the art of preparation. They also love to play, chasing each other up and down trees. Their activity is purposeful when working and delightful when playing - they are, dare I say, balanced creatures, though a bit frenetic at times. Now, hawks…hawks it has been said are the “visionaries of the air,” like Mercury, messengers of the Gods. So here we have squirrels, grounded in the work of the world, and hawks, carrying  the breath of Heaven on their wings. And what is happening? The hawks are lifting the squirrel into the air…to eat him?

Or perhaps, to teach him to soar?

Our lives are busy. It’s a fact. Filled with activity of one kind or another, doing the leg work of the world. We keep rhythm with today and plan for the future. Sometimes, seamlessly, and sometimes just trying to keep all the balls in the air. And then, there are periods when we live in the opposite domain - caught in a net of stagnation, when we sense the need for movement but cannot find its catalyst. Wherever we are the stirrings can find us - embedded in busyness or running beneath still waters - those that whisper of our longings and desires for action that is more purposeful and true and maybe a little more fun, and rest that is deep and restorative.  For activity that is lifted up and touched by something higher…a yearning to be carried on the wings of that which knows who we are and who we are in the process of becoming.

Is it all in our control…this process of becoming? This ability to lift up our intentions and our actions, opening to a higher level, one that deeply and truly expresses who we are and what we are designed to give and share? My answer…no. We are in control of the legwork - of our learning and our willingness to grow and participate in the process…to open our minds and hearts…to run on that branch and jump into the air, trusting we will be met, and that we will be taught to soar.

How exactly do we do our part? Where do we begin? We observe the world around and within us, we tend the garden of our souls with silence, with laughter, with compassion, forgiveness and love. We tend our lives and others with the same. We remember that it’s all practice, not perfection. We get up each day and do the best we can, understanding that “best” is not an absolute. Bit by bit we meet our shadow and learn its’ wisdom. We create relationship with our understanding of that which transcends - with God, the Universe, the Absolute, our own Highest Nature. We show up. And we keep showing up.

And what is it that we don’t control? What I think of as the alchemical process of transformation. That which happens in the underbelly of our being. We don’t control the wings that lift us up, though we can open our arms and stretch ourselves to the sky. Each step we take to more deeply trust this process, the more we are given to see…and the more we see, the more deeply we are asked to surrender. Like the squirrel…to leap, to trust, to soar.

So much from one little dream? Who knows what the squirrels and hawks were doing in the night…but what is to be gained is found in the awareness allowed. I encourage you…observe, listen, play with your dreams, let them be your teachers and your guides. You might be amazed at what you discover.

And if the hawks visit in the night…go flying. Leap. Trust. Soar. Live.

Namaste.