There is a fox about

I heard its strange high pitched calling the other night

As I sat cheeks rosy in the firelight

My feet dug into the cold earth

Soil trickling between my bare toes

My dogs barked and howled at the stranger come sniffing about

But I knew it was no stranger calling

Just a piece of my subconscious rising and swirling like ashes that leap high and explode in sparks

It’s a fox in reality

But what is it telling me?

Circling in the long grass

I can’t see him yet, he stalks the shadows

But I hear him calling

And throw another log on the fire

While my dogs bark

And the flames leap higher

*my friend and I are watching the lake, kingfishers dive and dart about in the early evening. “I’ve never seen so many kingfishers in one place” she says. It’s the third time she has mentioned a similar observation to me in the space of a few hours.

“Three is the ticket – you’ve said that three times, noticed it three times – let’s look up the spiritual meaning of kingfishers” I take out my phone and Google

Turns out the explanation when I read it out really resonates with my friend. But she is equally charmed by my method of research.

I always look up the spiritual meaning of animals if I notice something odd or a particular animal that seems to be tugging on my attention. Because I have done it for years I know many of the meanings intuitively now. Without fail, the explanation always resonates with something going on in my life. There is usually a message or just an assurance that “something or someone” understands.

The universe is intelligent, of course it is, and far more so than ignorant humans. The more I am open to receiving information and trust intuition, the more of it arrives. This may sound like wahoo to many, but then what is religion? What is any belief in the unseen?

This earth and the realm beyond responds to us, and like a sweet child that is noticed, it begins to respond even more when we pay attention to it.

I believe how it comes through and via what conduit depends on the individual, spiritual belief is an ingrained part of the human psyche.

I’ve been deeply connected to nature since a child and in particular the animals that often ran alongside me. Dad used to recall with astonishment how he once saw me standing watching a big brown snake, tail disappearing into the grass, the track of its passing freshly inscribed between my boots. “You just stood there and watched it!” He said. I was very young at the time but fear of snakes is something installed early in kids from the bush. I guess I just didn’t catch it.

Mum often remarked on my penchant for wandering and never becoming lost and the way I noticed everything, often telling her about all I had seen on my adventures, and bringing in rocks and flowers and bones, bits of shaped wire and all manner of things to tuck away as treasures. “You have a natural affinity with the bush” she would say.

Nearly every time I leave on a solo adventure somewhere I see a wedge tail eagle. I’ve often seen them too, at times of conflict or confusion. I once walked out the front gates of home towards a huge black winged eagle sitting on the power pole. We looked at each other, me with my arched neck and tears, he, implacable as a totem. They are one of my favourite birds. The persecuted king, according to lore.

And where is all this leading?

This morning we sat at smoko and my eldest son asked me if I remembered a certain boy he went to school with in primary school. The name rang a bell.

“Why?” I asked.

“He committed suicide last night” responded Tom.

It broke my heart.

“Why?” Was all I could say

“His missus left him, took the kids” responded Tom

I looked at my two precious sons in consternation. I wanted to scream “don’t you ever think that there is not another day”

But I couldn’t be a crazy person

So I said it calmly “there is always another day, look at you 25 and 23, your whole lives to meet someone different, untangle the journey ahead – there is always another day, good ones and bad, what a waste of a life when so many are dying that would love nothing more than for one more day”

There is an aura of sadness around Tom today and I wish I could take all of my experience and faith and place it in his heart. But I can’t, he will fathom these things for himself.

This life is alive that we exist within, from the tiny ants to the cresting moon – we have purpose and significance and a vast wellspring of caring and compassion looking after us – there is always another day and good or bad – they all add up to something

They add up to a precious life

I wish that I had been able to tell that young man, the same age as my son, “you are held, keep going, you are held” but I can’t – but maybe it will help someone else

Written 22 April 2022

Other posts on this sort of thing:

The singing grass

Asking questions