Wrenaissance Man

Okay. It was weird, even for me...

So I'm in the warehouse at my day-job Thursday  afternoon, and out of the corner of my eye I see a shadow flit across the ceiling.  I look up and my heart sinks when I see a small bird perched near one of the hanging lights.  "Alright. Here we go." I sigh.  It is not an easy thing to do, and I am not looking forward to trying to coax the little guy to fly down from the ceiling and out the wide open bay doors. There was something different about this bird, though.  In the few times a bird has flown into the warehouse, it's usually a sparrow or a junco, but this wee fella was neither.  "Oh my gosh! I think that's a wren!"  It had a little pointy beak, and a stiff little tail that stuck up into the air, and I recognized it from the wrens I'd seen hopping and bounding through bushes and undergrowth.  "What the heck is he doing way up there?" I thought. I'd never seen one more than a few feet off the ground. 

Standing beneath, and looking up at my feathered friend I said, "Alright Goddess. What do I do?" I closed my eyes to better listen for an answer, and I swear they were closed but for a couple of seconds.  I opened them again, having not moved from the spot or averted my gaze, yet the bird was gone -- just gone! I looked back and forth to see where he might have flown to, then walked around the warehouse, my neck craned toward the ceiling.  Gone!  No where!  What the...?!

The rest of the day, as I went about my business, I kept looking skyward but never again spied my little buddy, and began to seriously wonder if he'd actually been there at all.  Weird...

After work I went to a friend's house.  We have so many things in common and so many synchronous experiences, that it really feels like we're more sister and brother from another mother than we are friends.  So, I probably should not have been surprised to find out that the day before, she had had a wren inside her house. Now I was really paying attention!

She fetched her copy of "Animal Speak" by Ted Andrews to see what the significance of wren is, and what messages the appearance of a wren carry.  Among the lines of the entry on Wren, these stood out to me-- 

"Keynote: Resourcefulness and Boldness"

"...The wren has the vocal power of a bird much larger. It will sing from daylight to dark, as if overflowing with confidence. It is also a bit of a spitfire, and it will not hesitate to confront any threatening bird or animal..."

"...Are you using the resources available to you? Are you not displaying enough confidence?  Are you not attacking your life with enough gusto? Wren holds the medicine for using what is available, and can teach you the most effective means to build within your own environment."...


As soon as I heard the "Resourcefulness and Boldness" part, I breathed an "a-ha!" I have been becoming more and more aware lately of where I put my energy, and the consequences of expending my energy into areas that do not nurture me -- the need to be more resourceful.  This became especially apparent as I was preparing for my Soul Retrieval training in a few days.

So, yeah, I'd just had Snake retrieved for me as a power animal, bringing some intense shedding of old skins, attitudes, etc -- a very emotional, uncomfortable time. And, as I mentioned in my last post, Crow has been very conspicuous of late, pointing me to the darkness of the void of death and rebirth. All these things churning up to be released and to make room for this new change and transformation has put me into somewhat of a tail-spin, and I've found myself wandering through my days barely present, depressed, and a shadow of my former self -- yet feeling powerless to do anything because it is all just part of the process and I just have to endure it. 

Well, the day before my little friend flew into my life, I'd been reading the soul retrieval book required for my class during my lunch break, and as I read about soul loss and soul stealing, something clicked.  It just sounded and felt too familiar. I realized it was describing how I'd been feeling for quite some time.  I returned to work, these thoughts and feelings still weighing on me as I recounted people/situations, in the past year or so, that could have stolen bits of my soul/power -- who and what I may have given my power away to.  A slow anger started to simmer as I fluctuated back and forth between my previous powerlessness and the possibility that all the suffering and exhaustion has been needless.  Like the sun coming out and burning off the morning clouds, the rising anger burned off the fog in my mind, and brought into clarity and light the truth of the situation. Fortunately I was alone in a corner of the warehouse when this fire crescendoed.  I said nothing out loud but, realizing my own power in deciding my own fate, in my head I screamed, "GIVE ME BACK MY G*DD*MN F**KING SOUL!!!"

Now, those who know me personally know that I don't swear (I swear I don't!).  That was how serious I was.  And with that out-burst, or in-burst as the case may be, the anger instantly dispersed, and I felt strangely... Solid. Present. Grounded. Confident. Whole.

Almost disoriented, I nearly broke into a giggle. "Whoa! Did I just do that?" Powerless to empowered, in 5 minutes flat. Have to admit, that is pretty bold. From a place of feeling so small and insignificant, or more accurately, inadequate, and challenging the vastness of the cosmos to take back and claim my personal power -- yep, bold.  Worthy of a visit from my tiny avian friend. Thank you Wren!

But wait! There's more! The next day after seeing the phantom wren, I was just going about my work when I heard the word "bird" come from another part of the warehouse. Instantly I was on my feet making a beeline for where I'd heard it, and there, in the middle of the floor sat my wren -- still alive but barely moving.  I scooped him up as gently as I could, completely overwhelmed at the opportunity to hold him in my hands, and deposited him outside in the shade of a bush.  He hopped off my hand and just sat there in the dirt.  I prayed over him, hoping the reiki I'd been dousing him with since I picked him up would help, and asked if there were anything else I could do.  The answer came back as no, so I turned back toward the warehouse, fully cognizant of the fact that I was in plain view of everyone in the office, and again hoped the little guy would be alright.

On my morning break I returned to the bush with a cup of water, but the wren had gone. I breathed a sigh of relief, taking that as a good sign that he was recovering and able to take care of himself.  Still I poured the water in the spot where I'd left him, in case he was still near-by and thirsty, and as I turned around, under the next bush over was a beautiful crow feather.  It felt at that point like it had been a bit of a test for me, and the feather was my gift for passing. 

On my way back to the warehouse, I slipped the feather into my car through a slightly opened window and watched it float down to the seat.  When I returned at lunch time and opened my door, the current of air created by that, made the feather stand up in my seat and dance around in a pirouette.  I laughed out loud at this display of celebration of new found wholeness, and wondered how much more celebration was in store this coming week in this training -- This being just a sample of what's to come.

And with Wren in mind, singing his song boldly, I think I will bring along my copy of Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass so I can read (again) the Song of Myself, and in his electrifying words celebrate my own song and my own path and my own wholeness.

YAWP!!!