My hand reflected in window
This afternoon
Sonoma Valley
I\’ve been in the house puttering about for the last couple of days, organizing my things, and watching travel videos. I will be in the Sonoma Valley for about a month before leaving for my volunteer work away at an off-grid farm north of here along the coast. The farm grows food to serve seniors in the community.
This afternoon, I received a beautiful note from Stephanie who sent a donation gift to the blog.
\”I walked through my house to the back door as I was opening your thank you 

card.  I often do that because our little house is perched above a lake 

(reservoir).  Today in the middle of the lake sat an Eagle on a log.  What 

a shock and wonder.  I knew immediately the Eagle was there for you and I 

will leave you the honour of interpreting his message to you.  Thank you so 

much for my beautiful card with a tree with two trunks.  You nailed it!!\”

When I read Stephanie\’s note, tears fell and my heart opened. This morning was challenging as I did not feel connected to my source or to Scott as I\’ve been fighting doubts and stuck thinking in regards to the path unfolding before me. I am a brave soul, but I am always having to push through rigid limitations.
The Eagle spoke to me, a powerful bird, reminding me of the power and spirit beneath my own wings. The Eagle was also a favorite of Scott and mine. I\’ve written about the Eagle Spirit weaving through my relationship with Scott and visions I\’ve shared of flying with Scott as Eagles after his transition.
Stephanie kindly sent me this poem as well. Maybe it speaks to you?  I know it speaks to me. Thank you Stephanie for your message and kindness. It brightened my day and my spirit feels lighter and free.

Kindness by Naomi Shihab Nye

Before you know what kindness really is

you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness

you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,

you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to gaze at bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
It is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.

Published by As the Road Wanders

Travel Blogger and Traveler

2 thoughts on “Reflection

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