Little Wings

From the corner of my eye, I catch the movement of a small spider on the kota stone windowsill as it rushes to the edge and drops off—presumably landing just fine on the floor.

During a period of time, every night, I tested my nerve to leap into the void. This may have been prompted by reading that the meaning of the swan in American Indian symbolism is “to go into the void.”* I was drawn, in particular, to this idea of going into the unknown, as life continually presents new situations.

Lying on my bed, before sleep, with my eyes closed, I would see darkness in my mind with a canyon-like edge where I stood two inches tall. Leaping off, I fell down into the abyss until each time, little wings opened, and I floated back up.

I shared this with a client encouraging her to try, but she thought No, she wouldn’t, as she gave a small, nervous laugh. And yet, the next week she arrived with a broad grin and told me the story of her leap. As she went down, a big hand came out and went under her, lifting her back to the top. I gave her my widest smile. We both understood she had succeeded by the proof of her rescue being different from mine.

What is the meaning? I guess at the playfulness of invisible guides who work with us, inventing ways to help us know there is a helping presence around us. I don’t need to understand. I simply accept the unusual.

My realization is, “When it is time for each of us to experience aspects of the spiritual journey, we will have experiences we cannot necessarily measure in the material world. Amusing circumstances may gently invite us into new considerations.”

* “Willing to accept the future without changing Great Spirit’s plans”
Medicine Cards, Jamie Sams and David Carson