owls...

Christian and I walked out into an open field speckled with blue flowered plants, a promise of life in an otherwise desert landscape. We bent down for a closer inspection. Christian broke off a piece of the plant. It’s toxic fumes rushed to our heads. “We found the plant,” he said as he sniffed it. “Yes” I whispered, distracted by the ramblings of a black beetle. Christian stood up and continued towards a dilapidated building, sniffing the noxious weed. I stayed mesmerized by the licorice black beetle laboring across the boulders of his world.

I was pulled away from my beetle trance by the distant sound of Christian’s footsteps. I stood up, drawn to the sound, no longer wanting to be alone. Walking the edge of a cluster of trees, I watched Christian smoking through the kaleidoscope of broken walls and windows of the dilapidated building. I felt safe and loved.

I peered into the trees. It was dark. I walked closer and suddenly, something moved rustling the leaves. I looked back at Christian. He was in his own world, content. Curious, I followed the edge of the trees to find a way in. As I approached what looked like an entrance, a menacing buzz filled my ears. A nest of invisible wasps stood guard. But to what? “Christian!” I yelled in a whisper no longer wanting to be alone. He couldn’t hear me. I entered the cavern, passing the drone of the nest into a clearing. A canopy of trees, two stories high with slivers of sunlight shining through created an altar. I was Joan of Arc waiting for divine guidance. Fallen leaves and a curious white film blanketed the ground.


Above me, I heard a flutter. I looked up. A shadow flew. I felt I was being watched. I looked around for what it was. What was watching me? Then I saw it. A geisha faced owl staring down at me. We contemplated each other until another rustle distracted me. I slowly turned in a circle staring up into the canopy of trees, baring witness to several owls camouflaged in the leaves keeping a watchful eye. There were too many to count. I had stumbled upon a holy shrine and I was the initiate.

I felt Christian come up behind me. I smiled at him and pointed to the owls in the trees. We stood silently side-by-side. I turned toward him, open and ready for our first kiss. I held my breath. He smiled, turned and without a word walked away. I watched him go.

I looked back up towards the owls, smiling as I laid my attachment to his kiss and my need of being saved at their feet. What I was experiencing, in this sacred temple, was more powerful than anything a man would ever give me. I was becoming a goddess and this was my initiation. Christian must have known this and chose to leave. He had already been baptized in mysticism.

It is said that owls are guardians of the after life and their nocturnal nature is a symbol of inner knowing. People are often called to their power animals because they share a mutual energy. With the doors of perception opened, perhaps I had been brought to the owls as a reminder of my intuitive powers and to be shown I was already riding the wave, I had just lost sight of it.