Taken care of

This morning my heart crumbled when I got an e-mail from Detta (who is abroad) explaining what to feed Sapodilla Dawn and who to call to get specially reared meal worms for baby birds. (This was in response to an e-mail I'd sent her with the Sapo-D. story). Suddenly yesterday's answers were no longer satisfying and the nagging "I should have kept her" voice resurfaced.

As much as I dreaded going for a walk and passing by the tree where I had left her, I decided to do it.

On my way, I noticed a startling amount of keskidees. They were everywhere: looking down from the wires above me, walking bravely across my path, sitting in trees calling out. Were there really more or was I just noticing them more because of the Sapo-D association?

As I approached the tree, my eyes flew to the spot where I'd placed Sapo-D. It was empty. I looked around. No sign of l'oisillon (fledgling in French). No sign of what I had been dreading (a small, half-eaten carcass swarming with ants). I looked up to the nest and saw a Keskidee sitting directly above me. The mother? She stayed a long while and, despite my presence and proximity, did not fly away.

Perhaps the gardener had put Sapo-D back into the nest as promised. And, if not, maybe someone had passed by, seen her and picked her up. "A UWI zoology student," I thought ... who knew, more than I would have, exactly what to feed her.

Little bird, big teacher. The whole experience made me think about the art of 'letting go'. Sometimes we are afraid to let go of what we 'know' because we don't know what is in the 'emptiness' beyond it. Sometimes we may not be sure that we are doing the right thing by releasing that to which we are 'attached'. I think Sapo-D came along to show that it's okay to let go and trust. When we do, everything is taken care of.

Drumming, dreaming, mid-air dancing

I keep dreaming I am in Toronto. Every night for the past week or so I'm there (sometimes briefly, sometimes for a long time) and it just feels like an extension of where I already am. Not as if I've made any drastic moves or used any forms of transport to get there. Many times I am sitting in a particular place. I don't know where it is or if it exists ... but it always makes me think of an American Diner and it is largely white with plush red leathery seats and couches (quite like the image on that link). The frontage is pure glass and looks onto a tall brown brick apartment building.

Last night there was a gathering of 'natural' people, wearing recycled clothing, hemp, etc. I was with them and we were pulling out our instruments on the sidewalk. I pulled out Dandelion and started to play her. The sound that came out was different: deep and slack. At first I thought she needed tightening. Upon looking more closely I realised there was a slash in her skin (a hole). I was horrified, but my first thought was: "Thank God I'm in Toronto" because my first instinct was that I had to go to Saikou, at whose shop I had bought Dandelion.

In another part of the dream, I was there (in TO) yet here (in T'dad) and looking through the window to the grass where the doves feed in droves. Suddenly a single dove flew up ... or rather, it rose in a straight vertical line (as if being beamed up by a force). It did not need to flap its wings in order to be airborne. Rising with it from the grass was a strange-looking yellowy-creamish creature. I couldn't make out what the creature was. The two of them were in mid-air responding to each other in what appeared to be a dance. They headed to the window and came inside, still in their mid-air dance. I retreated, so as not to disturb them ... and also because I had no idea what was going on or what the creamish creature was.

There was someone else with me (not sure who).

At some point the creamish creature dropped to the ground and the person who was with me went and picked it up and brought it to me. It was a baby swan.

Changing landscapes

This morning as I ate breakfast I thought about the world and how big (yet how small) it is; not only geographically, but in terms of the amount of people on the planet. Of all of these billions of people, we will meet and get to know only a few in this lifetime.

Why those people?

Someone walks along a vast sandy beach. One of the grains of sand which stuck to her foot when she first started walking drops off miles later, right next to a grain of sand that it would never have been next to had the woman not walked that day.

The entire landscape changes.

At times ...

(St. Lucia log)

Yesterday I felt to go to the sea. The idea of it was cleansing in a way that nothing else could be. I felt for a quiet beach, but Rodney Bay, which is walking distance from where Mel lives, was crowded with a pack-load of tourists. We had a light lunch at Spinnakers, then walked along the beach and found a fairly quiet spot toward the end of the bay. The sea was gentle and warm and I went in alone. At times I just floated, surrendering to what is unimaginably larger than I am. At times I folded up like a foetus and was submerged and drifting in a massive womb. At times I tried handstands (which more ended up being flips) - and turned myself upside down like a salt shaker, emptying out. At times I just gently breast-stroked my way through the water. At times I went under the water and, as it supported me, I stretched myself out into whatever pose felt good ... Neptune yoga, maybe? At times I went under the water and spoke into it, knowing it was listening and understanding, even though I didn't really know what to say or how to put the essence into words. It, in itself, is beyond words. At times I just lay down or sat cross-legged in the shallow, allowing the gentle waves to shift me slightly. Then, when I felt to, I came out.

A vicious attack

Jasper is an artful hunter. Normally when he brings in an animal, he brings it either alive or, even if dead, it somehow doesn't even have teeth marks on it. Yesterday morning, the day after elections, he brought in a fledgling Dove. Its feathers were strewn all over the floor, its body was ripped open, heart and innards exposed. I was surprised. Very rarely would Jasper do this. I know he meant it as a gift nonetheless ... but also (as usual) as a message.

It is only this morning as I went for my walk that the image of this shredded Dove returned to me and I saw it as a reflection of Panday's vicious, hateful and irresponsible verbal attack (in his concession speech) on COP and its leader Winston Dookeran. For those who are not aware of what he said, he basically screamed, spat and hissed with bitterness and contempt at those who voted for COP or who did not vote at all:

When one of your family members gets raped, beaten, kidnapped or killed, I want you to look in the mirror and look at your face and say to yourself 'I did this!!!' Then I want you to bow your head in confession and cry ... cry to yourself that you are responsible because you voted for the PNM or CORPSE or you did not vote at all!!!"

These are the words of one of our former Prime Ministers. The leader of a political party who had hopes of being PM again. The possible leader of the opposition. The man who is blaming Dookeran for not joining forces with him to beat the PNM. Between that and our current, elected-back-into-POWER-and-being-sworn-into-office-today-at-Woodford-Square PM screaming at his followers that "TT will progress at an even faster rate in the next 5 years, my dear friends" (i.e. his frightening version of 'progress') ... and bawling out that his being back in power is 'God's victory!!" ... one cannot be sure if this is a script for a sit com or a tragedy.

Anyway, back to the bird. As I walked, I had the image of a bird's nest with three birds eggs in it. Two birds had hatched first. The third egg hatched much later and produced a runt who was not like the others. The other two, being bigger, stronger and more aggressive, fought constantly for food and attention and learned to fly first. The little Dove, although much younger and not as developed, decided that it wanted to fly too. It fell out of the nest and was subsequently attacked and ripped to shreds.

This is just a symbol of the sad truth. It is clear after this election that Trinidad and Tobago is not ready for the Dove (symbol of peace, love, positive transformation, rebirth, etc). And, as a friend of mine said: "... will never be."

This is a place for vultures ... or to make it more 'local' ... cobo.

Do not ignore

Lately I have been ignoring my inner voice. This throws me off balance and can make me feel horrible and confused ... to know that something I felt/sensed was true and I did not pay attention to it.

Today after I woke up and meditated, I said a little prayer that I would increasingly be able to hear the guidance and that I will trust it again. I asked for a sign to let me know.

I was going walking for papers and decided to go for the longer walk around the University, which I have not done in a while. As I walked, a strident thought came out of nowhere: "I will find a puppy now."

As I neared the exact spot where I had found Rainbow earlier this year, a cute brown puppy wearing a blue collar appeared. It gamboled around the legs of a man who was strolling by, but he was ignoring it. I asked him if it was his and he said no. I asked two other people (a guard and a cleaner) nearby and they had no idea who it belonged to or where it had come from. I deduced that it must have been terrified by the recent spate of thunder and had fled from its home, as many dogs do.

The pup was frisking around so close to the cars on the mainroad ... and I didn't want to return from my walk and see it crushed. I told the cleaner I would take the pup home, take some photos of it, make flyers and stick them around ... and hopefully the owner would be see them and contact me.

The cleaner said: "Yes, do dat. Dat ent no pothong, yuh know! Dat is ah good breed!"

I told her that doesn't make a difference. Trinis feel that you should only put effort into saving or owning a dog if it is 'a breed'. Just like how people referred to Rainbow as 'only a street pigeon'. That doesn't make her less than a pigeon sold in pet shops. To make the point: can pigeons in petshops play the thumb piano and sing the way Rainbow did?

Anyway, I left the pup playing with the cleaner and the guard and continued on my walk, intending to pick it up on my way back. Upon my return, the pup was not there.

"Where is it?" I asked the cleaner.

"Me eh know. It was playing an' I turn my back an' it gone."

Another guard standing nearby said: "Dat was your dog?"

I told him it wasn't, but that I was going to take it home so it would be safe, make flyers, try and find the owner, etc.

He said: "Well a man came jes now and take it. It mus' be he own."

I walked off, thinking about how the puppy had 'appeared' and 'disappeared' ... and it suddenly occurred to me that the puppy was a sign. It was as if it had been put there ... not for me to rescue and take home ... but simply to remind me that when my inner voice speaks loudly, I can trust it.

Hunting season

Around 9:00 p.m. I was on my bed with Satya, when Jasper jumped through the window and sat on the floor, to my left. It's only when I heard a slow crunching noise that I looked down and saw him consuming the lower body of this transparent, sickly-looking woodslave (gecko).

Argh ... good thing I wasn't asleep, because he would have surely brought it under the blanket! I quickly got a scoop and broom and placed the lizard (now half dead) in a bush outside.

First this morning's frog ... and now this. Jaspie's eyes are bright with that wild hunting expression. I'm almost afraid to go to sleep, not knowing what I may wake up next to ...

Although, if I do go to sleep I'll probably have some interesting dreams ...

The gift

So much for putting my yoga mat on the bedroom floor this morning ... in the dark ... (as I normally do) ...

I will have to at least just do a meditation on my bed.

At 3:00-something a.m. I was awakened by Jasper's furtive paws fishing under my blanket. I leapt out of bed, turned on the light and shook out the blanket to see what he had captured this time. Nothing. I then raised my labyrinth pillow and saw a medium sized frog under it! Alive and well, it leapt off the bed and started springing around my room with me following.

After chasing it into a corner, it got smart and went under something. I fished for it with a long rod, but no amphibian came back out. Who knows where it is now! Somewhere in my room ...

Anyway, I never really mind these gifts. They always bring strong messages.

(Update: 6:20 a.m.) A short while after writing the above post, I was sitting on my bed meditating. Just as I was about to finish, Jasper jumped on the bed and started fishing around. He had found the frog and brought it back for me! This time I managed to catch it. It was one of those smooth, moist frogs - not the lumpy, warty ones ... so I didn't mind holding it and taking it outside.

To bee or not to bee

While stuck in a horrible traffic gridlock this morning on my way to a great workshop on pitching (films), I had my head buried into my steering wheel in heat and frustration. When I eventually raised up, I saw this bee on my windscreen, staring in at me. (Ironic, since these days I'm as busy as a bee!) It allowed me to take three close up shots of it before flying off.

Unfortunately I am allergic to the actual insect's sting. Once I flicked a bee off my finger and it bit me before flying off. My hand was swollen like a dead frog for one or two days before I went to the doctor to get something to bring down the swelling.

I therefore have great respect for bees.

It struck me that this fuzzy angel on my windscreen had come to bring me a message ... so I just looked it up as a power animal. I don't mind if it injects me with some of its great symbolism. I won't be allergic to that.

Here the bee is described as:
(i) a symbol of fertility and sexuality
(ii) its honeycomb is a symbol of the heart
(iii) symbol of the sun and all its energies
(iv) being busy and productive ... or taking time to savour the honey and not be a workaholic
(v) Symbol of accomplishing the impossible (aerodynamically its body is too large for its wings, so it 'should not' be able to fly ... but it does)
(vi) Symbol of accomplishing things you put your mind to

In Hinduism, the Bee relates to Vishnu, Krishna or Kama, the God of Love.
In Egypt, the Bee symbolized royalty.
In Greece, it was the symbol of the Eleusinian Mysteries.
The Celts associated the Bee with hidden wisdom.

Bird

Early this morning I was walking down the road to get papers. On the way I came upon the religious woman who normally stands in a particular spot with her Bible and crucifix, waiting for a private taxi to take her to the church at the Mount.

As I approached her and said "Good morning", my eye fell on a little bird in the drain before her. I bent down and looked at it to assess potential injuries before picking it up. I couldn't see anything amiss. Maybe its legs were damaged.

The religious woman (R.W.) said: "Oh gosh, you know I standing here so long and I ent even see dat bird dere?"

I moved my hand slowly toward the bird, asking it if it was okay. It was a small 'Big Eye Grief' and it was not moving. In fact it was frozen, its eyes wide, mouth slightly open, little body breathing heavily.

R.W.: Someting wrong.

Waiting until some cars had passed (in case the bird tried to scramble away from me and ended up under a tyre), I enclosed it in my hand, picked it up and asked it if it was hurt.

R.W.: Someting definitely wrong. A bird just doh let you pick it up so!

I agreed. The bird struggled a bit and then, to our amazement, flew out of my hands and onto the gate, where it perched.

R.W.: See if someting wrong with de right leg.

I moved closer to see. It looked normal. Nothing appeared to be physically wrong, yet the bird sat there, motionless, breathing hard. Maybe it was in shock. I approached it and touched it gently. It allowed me to. I wanted to at least move it to a place where it was further away from the road, so I lightly enclosed my hand around it and kept it there for a while. The bird also allowed me to do this, all the while looking at me from the side of its eye.

R.W.: But what is dis?! Nutting wrong wit dat bird! How it letting you hold it so?!

I then said to the bird: "Don't be afraid" and removed my hand.

It suddenly lifted its wings and strongly flew, disappearing into a tree some distance away.

R.W.: Buh eh-eh!

Sign

Sign on Leslie Street Spit, TO.

A message from Jasper

Both this morning and yesterday morning, Jasper has placed dead birds in front of my car. This morning it was a mature bird. Yesterday it was a freshly hatched fledgling with its guts exposed. Some may think this is gory and consider it another reason for hating cats, but this is no evil or cruel act in the mind of the feline.

When Jasper brings me a creature, it is one of two things: a gift and/or a symbolic message. To me, there is an instinctive wisdom in his bringing and I always thank him for whatever-it-is ... even when, purring with pride, he brings them into my bed, under the blanket at night ... alive. Bats, lizards, cockroaches, rodents, manicous, small snakes, small frogs, birds and more. He looks confused when I leap out of bed and then take the 'gift' back outside ... "Doesn't my human want the gift?"

I think the latest act of repeatedly placing dead birds in front of my car is his way of adding to the notes of caution: Be careful on the road. Lots of carnage .

Let it rip

Yesterday I was clearing out my old wallet which was bursting at the seams and falling apart. In transferring my money to the new wallet I'd bought the day before, I came across three of these passport size photos of myself, taken for an application form some time before I had cut my hair. (That day it was in the 'Pineapple' style, piled on top of my head).

Along with old paper from some drawers which I was ripping and discarding (mini spring clean), I decided to also discard the passport photos (which I have no use for now). As I 'ripped myself apart', I observed how each piece of 'me' looked so different once it became detached from the whole. Rather than seeming destructive, the act symbolically felt freeing and full of possibilities.

Shedding skin.

Dismantling.

No written manual

Tells me how

To re-arrange myself.

Power of the Hummingbird on my journey

I will be travelling later this month with the humming bird. I like this new logo of our new Caribbean Airlines better than the inanimate, cliche pan that was on the BWee planes. The hummingbird is a wonderful little power animal whose energies I welcome for my journey (see below).

The cover of my ticket, which I picked up a few weeks ago.

*

Hummingbird: messenger, timelessness

Hummingbird - the tiniest of all birds - brings special messages for us. It is the only creature that can stop dead while traveling at full speed. It can hover, or can go forward, backward, up or down. It lives on nectar and searches for the sweetness of life. Its long tongue lets it bypass the often tough and bitter outer layer to find the hidden treasures underneath. Hummingbird is loved by the flowers and plants, for as it sucks the nectar from the flower, the plant reproduces and more of its kind are created. In many traditions, Hummingbird feathers have been prized for their almost magical qualities. It is said that Hummingbird brings love as no other medicine can, and its presence brings joy to the observer.

If you have Hummingbird medicine, you adapt easily to whatever situation you may find yourself in, and make the most of your new circumstances. You don't waste time looking back and wishing for "what was" for you are concerned with making the most of "what is". Also, you could never become addicted to any artificial stimulants, for you find joy in your own heart. You take great pleasure in spreading joy and love and beauty to all around you, and have the gift of taking that inner joy into new and different surroundings. You have a talent for finding the good in people, and are not put off by a gruff or abrupt exterior, for you know that, if you can only get beyond that tough outside layer, you'll find goodness and beauty inside. You may have a gift for working with flowers, maybe growing them to share with others, or using flower essences for healing. Aroma therapy may be your calling. You have high energy and a spirit that must be free. To restrict that wonderful, free, loving energy is to suffer great depressions and feelings of uselessness. Hummingbird must fly free in search of beauty, spreading joy and love to all it touches.

(Source)

Early morning visit from a friend

At 5:30 a.m. I had already been up for a while and was lying on my bed absorbed in writing something. Suddenly on the paper there was the shadow of something flying around my room. I looked up, expecting to see one of those large black moths. But no - it was a bat. It had most likely come in on its own. (Normally when they find themselves in my room it's courtesy Jasper). When I saw it I felt happy to see it, like seeing an old friend. This isn't normally my response upon seeing a bat in the house ... (I remember, as children, screaming and hiding under the bed with my sisters and not coming out until Daddy came to remove the creature) ... but after being among so many bats the other evening, I somehow felt a new kind of connection. I even thought (jokingly): "Have you flown all the way from Tamana?"

Also , since having had Rainbow on that personal basis, I realise I've developed a different view of (and feeling for) for flying creatures. Seeing Rainbow develop and finally fly free made me really feel and appreciate that process - both for her (and flying creatures in general) and for myself.

Interestingly, what I was writing as I lay in my bed had to do with inner and outer transformation. It's as if the little bat had popped in just to confirm that everything is transforming greatly.

Dream Journey (includes video)

This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt is Dream Journey.

*

Suddenly,
at this junction of my journey,

hundreds of thousands of bats
come rushing to help me ...
to know my way,
as they do,
through the darkness
of what appears

to be unkown.

The road leads
to where
and how
and who
I am
to be
happy
happier
happiest.
*

On Friday evening, three friends and I went to Tamana caves, filled with 500 thousand to 3 million bats .

Click here

for short video of the bats flying out of the mouth of the cave.

Just after sunset, hundreds of thousands of bats fly out, going at such a speed that they almost appear to be static on the screen (see above video). I had filmed them in the forested semi darkness using the video function on my digital camera, so it's not too clear, but gives a good idea.

*

*

Moving about in a new environment may feel like a rebirth. Though this is an exciting concept, in reality it can be disorienting and frightening. Bat helps to move through the necessary shedding of the old and embracing of the new. One special guidance tool it symbolically offers is sonar navigation. Like Dolphin, Bat uses echolocation to guide it, and one of the most lovely sights on a summer night is a graceful bat ballet. So if we study and attune to Bat, we can learn to swoop with grace through transformation and rebirth, trusting that our own inner guidance system will help us find our way. (Source)