Hawk has been one of my favorite allies to work with since I started studying shamanism almost a decade ago. They're quite common to spot, it seems everyone has some kind of relationship with this mighty bird. What peeved me so much in the beginning about this solar king is that his messages seem to elude me by asking me to be responsible! How dare he! Each time one would whiz across my patio, hunt my pasture, or perch above the road as I drove by, I would curse it, because I knew that whatever I was toiling with in that moment would only be resolved by going inward for the difficult answer, and not the easy one on the surface.
Hawk has shown up in several of my paintings because I'm constantly turning over the notion of honing the intution. It's become a mantra of mine, and I reckon it's due to the fact that I have become more trusting of my own inner guidance. When he comes around, waving his giant wingspan at me, I know that I'll soon be asked to make a decision or seek clarity about a matter.
Angelica is the herb inside of the bundle above, nesting along a boulder of beautiful blue sodalite. Both of them felt so good in my hands. Angelica smells earthy and a bit like licorice root. Her message was for the seer, in favor of the intuition, of dreamtime. She is akin to St. Michael and I've always made a connection between Hawk and St. Michael, and now I have something to go on.
Have you ever had an issue and had to "sleep on it"? My friend and I were just speaking about our tendencies to allow some of our issues to resolve in the dreamtime. He and I both agreed that some things have to come from so deep within, that we cannot even be awake lest we intervene with the process. There is a sweet freedom that comes with letting the inner wisdom do the work. As I keep hearing myself say aloud, I trust this process.
I so enjoy exploring my relationships with the creatures, and as I make new friends with the Stone People and Plant People, I welcome you to come along and share and learn, too. Mama Earth is so rich with teachings, I feel blessed to live on this beautiful planet with all of them and you, too.
I will not be clapped in a hood,
Nor a cage, nor alight upon wrist,
Now I have learnt to be proud
Hovering over the wood
In the broken mist
Or tumbling cloud.
-from The Hawk by William Butler Yeats