Meeting With An Owl

Once more, Death has made its presence felt at the place where I work.
This time, a colleague in my own department was blessed with twin baby girls a week ago and lost their mother this afternoon – apparently her lungs collapsed.

As fond as I am of the people who work closely with me every day, I do not have much of a direct line to their spouses. But still, I sat down before my altar tonight to listen, and to see if there was anything I could do.

Almost before the circle of Ancestors, Deities and Spirit Guides was complete, I was getting strong flashes of tawny eyes and horned ears – a large owl was trying to attract my attention. And so I took off into the place where souls may linger between planes to sit down with this owl a while.
No words were exchanged while the owl spiraled up above me and came down the same way, eventually perching on a tree stump with his eyes level to my own.

No words were exchanged, but -oh – the passing of knowledge, ideas, was there.
Knowledge of Death is an uncanny form of wisdom. One which our culture is vastly uncomfortable with. Wisdom of the Owl passed into me tonight – a small dose, anyway – and I can say this: I have not many answers to the questions which circle in our minds and beat at our hearts. I probably have only one real answer in any form – and that is that we are All, in fact, God.
The Owl is God, and so is the stump upon which he rested. The Dream is God, and so are all we Beings which spiral within it.

I hope one day to accrue more knowledge. But for now I am content with the thing I have been definitely given – and that is the ability to experience, and to learn to open to experience.
It’s a start, at least.

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