When I walk outside, whether it’s in the woods or just down the street, I make a point of noticing what animals show themselves to me. I thank the many squirrels and sparrows and dogs I meet on the path daily, and although they might seem like mundane, run-of-the-mill creatures, I still acknowledge and am grateful for their presence and their message.
In the frame of mind of listening and watching then, of being receptive to who or what may cross my path, it is always such a delight when I see an animal that is unusual to my regular sightings.
Twice now when I have walked to the top of a ridge covered in trees, I have seen woodpeckers. Two of them pileated woodpeckers, as big as crows, hammering their beaks like thunder on a hollow branch, making a noise like a tree coming down. That got my attention!
They flew off then, and I was struck by the distinct way that they fly: they “fly and coast down, fly and coast down…(the woodpecker) flies in a manner and rhythm unique to itself” (Ted Andrews).
The second sighting was yesterday; on the same ridge I was greeted by a smaller woodpecker, not tapping but calling out to me, a piping call. The woodpecker’s red head is easy to spot but I would have missed this one as she was so high up.
I try to pay attention to what exactly I am thinking about or what issues are consuming me in the moment I see an animal, because that’s part of their message.
And I consider the unique energy and behaviours of the animal I am with, both in general and in its interaction with me in the moment. This is how their energy can help us and guide us when we are out in nature, seeking stillness and looking for answers.
So both times when I spotted the woodpeckers (or they spotted me) I was debating about this very thing that I am doing now. Writing and talking about my connection to nature. About how it might attract but also repel some people, this kinship I have with animals. About ways in recent weeks that I had unconsciously tried to dilute it, to push it to the background, to deny it or at least deny it’s expression.
I was avoiding talking or writing about it. I was trying not to announce it. I chose not to be authentic so that I would be more accessible to people. So that I would be liked.
So that I would fit in and be accepted.
I know this is such a trap. It creates an energy that has no authenticity. It creates in me a sense of inner-crying as I deny a gift that on the surface seems to have no obvious place in the civilized world.
But the woodpecker was asking me to go beyond the surface, to tap into the deeper meaning that lies beneath.
Woodpecker knows the power of her own natural rhythms, she made a lot of noise on that ridge, she thundered as she beat out her own rhythm on that hollow tree. She was showing me herself in flight, flying in her own unique way, showing me how to go forth in the world as my own true self with no apologies.
I know that if I do not accept the reality of this gift and own it and celebrate it, then no one else can.
And I know that this gift is supposed to come forth into the modern world because that’s where it is needed.
The internal response to even a small refusal on my part to let this energy flow is immediate: I start to feel sorry for myself, I feel lost and empty. And that’s when I know I’m on the wrong track.
And I return to my path with deep gratitude for the woodpecker, who literally reminded me to fly my own way – to be authentic – how to tap out the rhythm of the song in my heart, and beat the drum loudly.
If you would like to learn more about how to discern the messages that animals and nature long to share with you when you are outside, or in moments of stillness, or in your everyday life, I can help.
I would love to hear your stories and confirm with you that all of nature conspires to love and guide us, and that every animal carries a medicine and a message for us, if we are willing to listen.
And, it would be my privilege to help you discover how the natural world may be nudging (or insisting!) that you answer the call to be yourself, and to share yourself and your gifts with the world.
xo Shona
Woodpecker
She has her own rhythm
She has her own rhythm
She knows the beating of her heart
She flies in swoops
She has her own rhythm
A drumming cadence
A song in the beat
In the beating heart
In the tap tap call
The insistent crack of
Bark the breaking
Into what was hollow
What lies beneath
The real rhythm
The real me
The real life
The real love
The force of
One who is awakened
By the drum
And she knows
And she stands
To be to be the beat
My own rhythm on the drum
To follow it to the end
She drums out the beat of a
Dark red dancer
Flashing between the trees
A thunder drummer
Daring me
To be
Stand this is me
Stand this is me
