Taking Flight

Cold!

My first memory of life was the faded grey of light, perhaps twilight, lack of warmth; the stark, crisp air.

I could feel the snow falling gently, each flake carefully making its way through the holes in the broken wood above, further cooling the air it touched on its slow, deliberate descent toward where I lay.

Of course, I could also feel my Mother's touch, striving to keep me warm, protected and safe from that bitter, grey winter cold.

Being born into the harsh winter months wasn't my choice, and it created such a struggle in my early years. Not in a 'drawing a heavily laden cart up a hill' kind of struggle, but in very much a life or death kind of way.

For days on end it would be far too cold for my mother to leave for food, in which case, my stomach remained bare, gnarling at me from the inside.

Other days were more temperate. On those days gone, mother was, seeking to bring home the next meal to keep us fed. These times were perhaps the worst, for I knew that without her strength watching over me, any number of intruders could come into our simple home and end my experience of life.

Thankfully, perhaps at the will of some greater force, I made it through those difficult early years and felt my body beginning to grow bigger, harder, stronger and more capable.

I can't remember exactly when the transition started occurring; the process that began leading me from my childhood, changing me into something else. Yet as it happened, almost everything from the early years faded into the background and I remained forever grateful for those harsh, early winter years.

They made me strong!

Years of being cold, hungry and scared conditioned me to rise above everything that could possibly come my way, and the honest truth was, in my world, my mother's world, strength was everything.

One morning I woke up from a peaceful slumber and knew immediately that something wasn't right... something felt different.

I can't quite recall what it was, yet I could see the change reflected in my mother's face as she sat patiently, looking in my direction, waiting for me to wake up.

Instead of greeting me with the compassion her face normally held just for me, she had lines and creases adorning her otherwise calm demeanor, making her appear somehow fierce, and I felt a flicker of fear as she moved towards me.

One moment I was lying comfortably, a child awakening from slumber in the only home that I had ever known, and the next, I was cast out, literally thrown into nothing but open air.

Falling, flailing, no sense of direction.

I scrambled, struggled with my whole body to make sense of the situation, and reason with my limited mind what was happening to me... with little room or space remaining to wonder why my mother had turned on me in such a way.

Although I could hear her screaming at me something or other, there was no way for me to make sense of what she was saying, as I tumbled, spiraled out of control.

What happened next was unexpected. Everything around me somehow slowed down, time coming nearly to a stop. I became calm and knew from somewhere deep in the deepest reaches of my Soul, that against all reason, I was right where I needed to be.

My mother's actions hadn't been cruel, harsh or hurtful yet rather, exactly what was needed, right at the perfect time in my life.

She had given me a gift, and all I needed in that moment was to turn in, reach within and trust my instincts, which I did.

'REACH OUT... Reach out wide with your arms!'

I heard the voice from within my own being saying what I realized my mother had also been yelling at me from above. Reach out, spread your arms wide!

The next thing I remembered, I was pushing my arms out as wide as I could, forcing my muscles to respond faster than I ever thought was possible to the command of my thoughts, and then...

MAGIC!

The air somehow got caught up in my outstretched arms and I was no longer falling. Suddenly, all of my momentum changed from falling, tumbling, spiraling downwards, cast out from my home, to powerful and directed forward movement.

In a split second, I became everything I was born to be; a powerful, focused, deadly silent airborne hunter.

I didn't return to my home that evening but rather, soared out from between the greater wooden archway that our small, humble home sat inside of, and felt myself sailing swiftly, silently across the cool night air.

The air itself was alive, moving, flowing beneath my powerful body. I could feel it each time it shifted, currents and thermals and I adjusted my arms accordingly. A great dance of life unfolded between that most aloof of elements and me.

Out across the great dark sky I rose higher and higher, swift, soundless and free. Every little noise below me becoming a sound I could "see", the world unfolding into a tapestry of beautiful sound images.

I remember being small, cold, hungry and afraid, and find myself in such gratitude for those greatest of challenges, for now I AM the wind, powerful, untamed, silent and free... An owl of the night, born of the barn!