Caged birds and memories

Tonight, one year ago, my journey took a sharp turn into the wilderness. 

I arrived home to find my faithful soul mate unable to use his back legs. Never did I imagine that that event was the beginning of the end of our shared paths.

I watch as linear cloud banks scissor over each other and shut out the setting sun. It reminds me of my last night with him, in this very spot. Sitting together, we two, the sun’s exit was lackluster and uninspiring then as well. It was as if the Sun himself was feeling as despondent over our pending separation as we were.

Driving home tonight, for some reason the words, “I know why the Caged Bird Sings” come to mind. I can’t shake it. I wonder what in the world? Why this phrase? I wait. I think about why he left, the timing of his departure. I think I understand now why he had to go: it was time for me to be on my own. To live on my own terms, to stand in my own power, for reals. To feel the Knowing that my value is within me: not for what I do for others but, rather, for who I am intrinsically. 

“I know why the Caged Bird Sings.”

I still can’t shake it. The words roll through my head, like undulating waves roll to shore from a distant storm.

What is he trying to tell me? What?

And then I know. 

I was the Caged Bird. I have been caged although I had not realized it for a long time. He joined me on my journey to help me reconnect with myself and rediscover my inherent value. When I released his spirit, he also released mine.

My thoughts immediately fly to the afternoon two weeks ago, when we released the baby hawk. She was born wild, like me. Like all of us. Born free of judgements and preconceived notions. Then she was found, seen, and brought into Captivity, aka “Safety”. Being captive, “caged”, helped her survive, but it also dulled her senses, inhibiting her ability to fend for herself. Society, culture, family beliefs…all of these things had held me in captivity, kept my senses dull, kept me “in my place.” I didn’t know any better. I thought that kind of Life was all that I got. So I learned to be ok. I didn’t thrive, but I was only “ok.”

Then Duke came along. He confidently and joyfully led me back to my Wild. He gave me complete and utter Love, unconditionally. A healing tonic for one who has forgotten that Love knows no bounds, Love knows no conditions. 

But when he left and opened my cage door, I was like that hawk…panicked, anxiety ridden. Not sure what to do in and with this wide open space. The pure Freedom was daunting, scary, unimaginable. I remember the hawk panting, eyes darting in every direction, head cowering from noisy planes taking off from the nearby airport. That is how I have felt since Duke left. Uncertain, anxious, alone.

I was the last to leave the hawk. She perched high up, aloft and alone, in her tree. I then watched her flutter ungracefully into an adjacent tree, testing it out. I now more deeply understand her behavior at that time. We both were in process: observing, adapting, experimenting, sensing our new environments. 

I finally left her, forcing myself to believe that she would find her way, to trust that she would be safe.

I joined a friend for lunch, but she remained on my mind the entire time. Heading home, I drove back to the park to check on her. 

She was gone. 

I trusted that she had found her confidence and her sense of direction. Now I have to trust that I will find mine.