Last Thursday morning as I was completing my morning meditation and praying for guidance about a question that has been troubling my spirit, a bird collided with the large picture window in my house and fell to the ground. I rushed outside and found a red-headed woodpecker lying still on the deck. Certain he had broken his neck, I scooped him into my hands to offer him a prayer.
Yet as I held him, I felt his heart racing and saw his eyes trying to open. I sat with him in my hands, holding him warm and looking very closely at his exquisite feathers and intricate claws for nearly 10 minutes. At one point I moved slightly, and he suddenly hopped to his feet and clutched to my hand. Still a bit confused, he perched himself on my hand only inches from my face. For another 10 minutes or so he sat there until he turned, looked right at me, and quite suddenly flew off back to the tree where I had been hearing him peck for the past few weeks. I simply sat there filled with awe and gratitude for our exchange.
A few days later I was doing a walking meditation in the labyrinth at Breitenbush, seeking clarity on the same question from the previous meditation. As I was walking, something quite peculiar caught my eye. I saw what looked like a maple tree seed pod standing up on end. I crouched onto my knees and brought my face very close to the ground. To my amazement the seed pod was sticking straight up off of a root that it had sent down into the pebbly ground. Looking very closely, I saw where green life on the inside of the pod was in the process of unfurling itself and busting out of its shell. I have seen thousands of these seed pods in my life, but never one that has rooted itself. It wasn’t until this moment that it really hit me that this tiny feather of a thing actually becomes a tree. I laid there on the ground totally transfixed, my question shelved.
Telling these stories now, I am struck by how both began with an attempt on my part to seek comfort by dismissing uncertainty. I wanted to know the answer so I could stop being so uncomfortable. I wanted the voice of Spirit to whisper in my ear and say “JAY, THE ANSWER TO YOUR QUESTION IS…” so I could stop spinning and find solid ground.
Instead Spirit said, “Hey! Stop looking for comfort in the answers! Come observe the wonders around you. Feel my presence and be comforted.”
I think that’s all we ever want—to know that we are supported, that we’re not alone—especially in times of personal and collective uncertainty. We can become accustomed to thinking that knowing the answers to the big questions is the only way to know we’re truly supported. Paradoxically it’s when we participate with the Mystery around us and we fill with awe at all we don’t know that we can feel the most connected. Like the woodpecker, we find that we are held until we’re ready to fly again; like the seed pod, regardless of whether we are spinning or firmly rooted in sacred ground, we are more than what we seem.
Wishing you the blessings of the many wonders all around you.
