The workers came on a Tuesday morning to finish installing the molding around the base of the kitchen floor. My 20-year-old cat, Belle, made her escape from under the bed, through the cat door, to the picturesque landscape that surrounds our carriage house. This time, I decided to follow her, curious as to where she might go in her outdoor travels.
Belle trotted down a short stone pathway to the swimming pond where water sprays from a central fountain during daylight hours. Intent on watching her, I didn’t see the bird until I was nearly upon it—a great blue heron standing at the edge of the water. Having sensed our approach, the bird unfurled its wings to a full six feet. Belle stopped in her little tracks, and I stopped short with an intake of breath. We watched as the bird lifted into the air and landed gracefully on the other side of the pond.
Beauty like that silences me.
Moments later, Belle continued to the pine tree grove on our right, jumping across a little ravine and disappearing under the lowest branches. I continued to observe and receive the gift of the heron as it settled on the far bank of the pond.
The image and presence of the great blue heron lingered throughout the day. My mind wanted to make this symbolic, to have the bird mean something, to provide a message of guidance or wisdom. I researched great blue heron, but nothing about the animal medicine opened my heart as I read. I didn’t know that something more alive than symbolism was about to unfold.
On Wednesday, I went to my chiropractor’s office for what’s called a Network Spinal Entrainment—a light touch technique that accesses spinal gateways to invite healing. My brain/nervous system is reminded how to re-pattern itself to release stress and tension easily, to be healthy and whole on multiple levels. That afternoon, I experienced a wavelike movement in my spine that I’d never felt before. I could breathe freely from deep within my abdomen to the top of my lung capacity at the clavicle. I felt grounded in the middle of my chest at my heart center. My arms wanted to lift up off the table. Though I’d flown in dreams before, I’d never experienced this sensation of freedom in my physical form.
That’s when the image and presence of the great blue heron—its enormous, graceful wingspan widening—returned to my awareness. Beyond symbolism and meaning, through worlds of silence and stillness and release, the power of flight moved through my body.
Perhaps the beauty we observe is simply what we’re meant to become.