A Journey to Spirit #14: Eagle Spirit

I drove my meager belongings down that little country road to Rosie’s house. As the car meandered along something very unusual was about to happen. Not certain what was obscuring my vision of the road ahead, I struggled to focus my eyes.

Suddenly it moved again. There, a mere six feet directly ahead of my car, its wings wider than the girth of the car, hung a powerful Bald Eagle in flight. Rising up and to the left, he suddenly lifted himself upon the wind…and I gasped. He had been flying so close in front of me I could have reached out and touched him.

I knew the sight of this powerful bird was marking the Truth of my new journey.

And I had seen this mighty bird before many times since my mother’s death in 1989. And each time, I felt her there with me. On that day, this amazing bird was bringing her Spirit close again. One day the previous summer while sitting on the deck, another eagle had graced my space as if a sign of what would come. The wing span stroked the humid summer air; the sonic sound of strength and grace pulsed through the air. This giant bird dipped down and flew to within a few feet above my head; the sound spoke of an undeniable Energy. This encounter validated the precious message delivered that day: there is power and strength when and where we least expect it: stay strong.

I caught sight of just such an eagle many other times since my mom’s death. As her inner truth was First Nation, I came to learn the sign of the greatest bird in the sky was her Spirit coming to ride along with mine. My mother however had never interfered with my life once I had left home at nineteen. It was uncanny how I would come to learn of the messages that would link my awkwardness in life with the Aboriginal philosophy which was so different from the mainstream where I had grown up.

In Aboriginal culture you see, their way of life, the things they believe and the way they conduct their lives is very different from what mainstream assumes. And in their ignorance, mainstream always assumed they knew better, when in fact, they misread almost everything.

I would come to learn that in Aboriginal philosophy, the greatest objective was for the Tribe to survive. They were always one with the Earth, not in opposition to it and never there for anything other than balance and to protect the Earth Spirit that provided for the Tribe. It was Earth Spirit that made their survival possible, and they respected Her for it. Everyone worked together to protect the balance and in turn She would ensure the survival of the Tribe.

Think about it for a second. You’re part of a small band of say 2,000 people who live isolated from all other tribes. Your people speak a different language from the others, but you all know the same truths, you all understand balance and purpose and you all communicate in the same way. Your art and your trails are similar, your wisdom and your history is a spoken one, passed on with honour through many generations like a sacred text. Everyone is important, and each person has their own gift, each one vital for the survival of all. Each person is equal to the next, the chief too, who is responsible for gathering extra food and clothing to make certain every person has what they need.

They sat in a circle. They danced in a circle. They remained in equality and cooperation, aware of the cycle of Life, and they would honour this in all they did: from the four corners of north, east, west and south, to the balance of the seasons in spring, summer, fall and winter. Their lives cycled as Mother Earth cycled. They watched Her so closely, in fact, that they knew her moods, her power and her messages. They would always honour and protect Her for to do so would ensure the harvest and the hunt. The Great Spirit made them stewards.

They would not fence in the land, nor would they believe they could “own” a part of Her. They knew Mother Earth was there for every living creature. They knew of the balance, and they respected the Earth that supported everything. And if Mother Earth didn’t provide a fair harvest enough for the whole Tribe, the eldest among them would slip away into the forest in the darkness never to return. Their sacrifice was to ensure the young would survive.

Theirs was a philosophy of cooperation, of working together for the greater good. They believed each person was responsible for their own walk with Spirit, and they never interfered with a Sacred Journey. My mother held to this deeply-rooted philosophy even though she claimed to have nothing to do with her Native blood. This blood is strong. Hers was a paradox of grief and love that grew in scope and brilliance the more I learned of the heritage.

Both Mom and I had gained many things from Boo, who obviously learned much ancient wisdom from his mother, a full-blooded Squamish Nation woman by the name of Lucy. And as I journey along my path now, I have come to learn just how much the Red Blood that flows through my veins is the river of my inner strength and my Spiritual awakening.

Learning about the meaning of my past, there was one story I would come to treasure like none other. I couldn’t wait to tell Rose.

…to be continued

Photo Credits

Country Road – 15205483 @ 123rf Stock Photos

Eagle Wings – revel @ 123rf Stock Photos

Snow and sun – Ingvar Bjork @ 123rf Stock Photos

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