On the first day heralding spring, a couple of weeks back, I went out on a walk on the fields with my love, Merlin. The sun was so intense I could peel my layers down to a t-shirt. He asked which way we should go, and I had a strong feeling we should take a particular path around a sheep paddock we like to visit. We gawked at the expanses of crocuses and at life peeking up from every nook and cranny available — even though by now it’s all snowed under again!
There’s a dilapidated bench where we like to sit, midway through our walks, and probe the mysteries of the universe. Or just rejoice in the disgruntled sheep and the birdsong. As we turned onto the bench, I knew there was a reason we needed to come there, at that exact moment. A massive flock of geese called joyfully, flying towards us. They began to circle right above our heads in a dance of coordination and chaos, spiralling over and over.
This must have gone on for about at least five minutes, if not longer. We were both lost in ecstatic being-with the geese, the vast open sky, the sun and the burgeoning earth. Out of time altogether. Toward the end, I managed to snap a little souvenir of the moment, albeit horribly distorted by my phone’s digital zoom:
For me these encounters happen on two levels, each profound in its own right. On one level, time stands still as I meet the heart-mind of this other, wholly different intelligence from my own. All my senses open to perceive, to love, every single detail I can of these geese, circling and calling in the sky. They themselves are a whole multi-being, the emergent mind of the flock. I meet and touch the edges of the mystery made up of their winged spiralling. Them, us, the sky, the warming ground, this precious second. I pulsate my honor, my adoration, my respect and my hope that they know that I will continue speaking for Them-Us in the maelstrom of unraveling.
You see, they too are speaking for me. Just as birds and other non-human companions are likely speaking for you, where you are. That’s the second level. When we know in our core that the Soul of the World is facilitating this encounter and that it comes with an encoded message we can divine, inviting us to recognize some bigger-picture truth about what’s real for us. These kairos moments signal, “Pay attention. Take this road, not that one. Look up. You matter. You’re connected to all that exists”. It’s just like a meaningful dream, where the events and symbols of the dream show us the answer we’ve been desperate for, the resolution to a paradox, a mirror of our deep life. If we “get it”, if we crack the code, the “aha” teleports us to a newfound wholeness we wouldn’t have had access to without the mirror.
Some of us first learned how to read these kinds of waking dream moments through websites or books that compile meanings about “spirit animals” and the omens they bring. They’re often neo shamanic teachings, styled after lore and wisdom from native cultures. I can’t even begin to do justice here to the ways these lineages have been misappropriated and stripped of their original nuance and context. And, some fellow animists hate it when we “anthropomorphize” encounters with the non-human beings we meet. They have a point: sometimes we’re too steeped in a consumer-like midset, as though saying, “this animal here is only showing up to deliver a message to me and I won’t think about it other than in service to my own purposes”.
And yet.
How hungry we have been for the remembering that each animal is a messenger from a wise and mighty spirit! It’s no wonder we try to misguidedly squeeze drops of that nourishment from cultures who haven’t severed the connection. But let’s remember too, that all of Earth’s peoples — all our ancestors the world over– have been apprentices and listeners to animal spirits. In legend and religious tradition in Europe and the Middle East, “speaking the language of the birds” signified a transcendent connection with the sacred, which translated into being able to communicate with all living beings. (Here’s a lovely short article elaborating on this, on the Wayback Machine, originally from a back issue of the Society of the Inner Light’s journal).
Immediately as I witnessed the geese, I remembered Mary Oliver’s poem, Wild Geese. I sat and read it out loud to Merlin:
Wild Geese
Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
What does meeting a flock of geese mean?
Like with all good symbolic revelation it depends on you, the moment, what the encounter evokes. But there are some shared starting points. We’ve historically associated symbolic meanings to animals based on their behaviors and distinguishing features, and that always helps to discern what a special encounter might represent.
Established links through stories, faery tales, myths, legends, religion, art, music and divination (such as the symbolism in a deck of Tarot cards), can be “ways in” that the Universe is likely to use to communicate to us, like the poem above for me. I often giggle at the Universe’s sense of humor! I feel it wants to make it as easy as possible for us to receive the message. The meaning might be over-the-top, practically blaring at the top of its lungs. Or perhaps it means the meaning “rhymes” with something else in our awareness. It can be very much a “this-and-that” situation, hinting at multiple levels of meaning, not just one interpretation. If we have personal associations with a particular animal, for instance, those count just as much, if not more than the culturally-established interpretation.
For me, the poem was the way in this time around. In my personal life, I’ve been dealing with one of those situations. The kind that asks ” are you willing to jump into the unknown, no guarantees, no safety nets?”. I know this encounter with Goose signifies something about my own life, writ large in feathered flight against electric blue. I take the guidance with the reverence I owe a Wise One, not with entitlement, but with loving gratitude. There may be no assurances for me at a rational level, but the Life-web has my back.
Some acrylic gouache sketches I made as a response to this encounter. Painting always helps me anchor and deepen the connection — it’s like I’m responding, saying “Yes, I hear this. I’m here, I’m answering in kind”. The Universe and the spirits love being received and responded to with creativity!
