Bat

Rebirth – Day 979

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments
Bat Front Approaching – Photo: L.Weikel

Rebirth

It just so happens my Medicine Card* ‘pick’ for the day today was Bat/Armadillo. Simply stated, Bat is often associated with the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. The single key word given for Bat in the book that accompanies the Medicine Cards is ‘rebirth.’ But truth be told, no one ever gets to rebirth without first experiencing ‘death.’ And that’s simply not a truth our culture feels comfortable acknowledging or accepting.

The fact that Bat showed up for me today felt affirming, to be honest. I feel surrounded by messages and signs of impending death or the crumbling of systems, norms, traditions, and foundations at not only personal but also cultural, systemic, and global levels.

Yeah, I’ve written periodically about the ‘theme’ of this year (2021) being tearing down the old structures and foundations in order to usher in radical transformation. Mostly I’ve addressed this in terms of how this is reflected in the stars (technically, the planets). Specifically, I’ve suggested that Saturn ‘squaring’ Uranus three times this year is the ‘tell’ for this cataclysmic shifting taking place on our planet and in our lives.

I’m not saying the movement of these planets and the way they’re aspecting each other is causing this to happen here on Earth. But perhaps the adage ‘as above, so below’ plays a role here.

Patterns, Sequences, and Harmonies

I’m suggesting that the movement of these huge outer planets is reflecting an energetic interaction or pattern that’s playing out on many levels of magnitude, right down to the microscopic, here on Earth. “From the macrocosm to the microcosm,” as they say. My approach to all of this is that the Universe provides us with a vast array of roadmaps and suggested operating procedures to help us navigate through our lives and through the millennia.

So when those who study the movements taking place within our solar system suggest that the underpinnings of many of our institutions and beliefs are going to crumble or be destroyed and replaced with concepts or approaches that feel like radical transformations, like ‘lightning bolts out of the blue,’ we might want to stop for a second. Look around. Pay attention.

What’s happening all around us? Fundamental concepts are being shredded. Institutions we thought inviolable are being violated. And on a personal level, perhaps, beliefs and relationships we thought were true and forever are also struck by lightning and either shattered or energized in a whole new way.

In fact, we might even want to consider whether the ‘foundation’ of pooh-poohing systems of study such as astrology needs to be torn down and replaced with an open-minded willingness to consider there just might be something to these recurring patterns.

Bats, Death, and Rebirth

It’s time to publish this post and I feel like I’m only scratching the surface of my contemplations. Late this afternoon I was reminded that I’d picked Bat today when I saw this huge one looming on the horizon. This Bat brought torrential rains, flooding, and a clearing of the way for something new.

Perspective on the Bat Front – Photo: L.Weikel

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(T-132)

Confession – Day 941

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Closeup – Photo: L. Weikel

Confession

I have a confession to make. Last night when I got into bed and started reading my book (because no matter how tired I am when I go up, I always have to read for a few minutes), I quickly realized we had a visitor.

Now, at first, when the large dark figure caught my attention via my peripheral vision, I thought it was a young bat. Much as I love bats, I did not want a bat in my bedroom, especially at 2:00 a.m. It was moving around quickly in a herky-jerky manner, not alighting anywhere, and its dark brown color up against the white paint of our closed bedroom door prompted a deep, visceral assumption.

Laying my book aside, I carefully extricated my legs from under the covers and the extra entanglement that comes with Spartacus snuggled between my legs but sandwiched between the comforter and the blanket. Tigger was already ‘on mission.’ He saw that thing – whatever it was – and was actively conducting a risk assessment on whether or not to go after it. It was pretty big. Clearly, he was weighing his options.

As soon as I put one foot on the floor, this winged beast took off and careened toward my closet. Oh dear. Ah. Nope. No, it gravitated toward the window instead. Failing to find purchase anywhere near the window, it lurched its way toward me and the light on my bedside table. Great.

Moth Above & Frontal (check out that tail!) – Photo: L.Weikel

Not a Bat

The only good to come of that change of course was confirmation that it was not actually a bat, but rather a substantial-sized moth. Not as big as a luna moth or anything. But big enough to be mistaken for a small bat.

And somehow, at 2:15 a.m., the call of the pillow was louder than the call of the wild. I had no desire to chase this bug down. I was afraid I’d accidentally hurt it; I didn’t want to whack it with anything or kill it, but I did want to tactically immobilize it so I could release it outside. If possible. But not then.

I’ll admit it: since it wasn’t a bat, I opted to ignore it.

A Moth Instead

As you’ve so astutely observed from all the photos, you already know it was a moth. This afternoon I discovered it clinging to the window frame directly beside my side of the bed. Determined to do right by it, I used a tissue to cup it into my hands and immediately took it outside on our porch. I placed it on one of our green pillows and gave it the chance to fly away.

Of course, it didn’t – at least initially. In fact, it seemed to bask in the spotlight that surrounded it as I documented its beauty.

This was no moth that routinely frequents our home, much less our bedroom. Perhaps I’ll search for a website tomorrow that can help me identify it.

In the meantime, take a moment to appreciate its unique beauty. I think I’d like to call it a Cow Moth, by the looks of its face up close. But that up-curved tail is especially peculiar. Doesn’t it almost look like a small plane, possibly one of those that land on water.

Hmm. I just might have to write another post on this creature. Guess we’ll see.

Moth Side View – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-170)

Instagram – Day Eighty

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Photo by L. Weikel

Instagram…      

Or “what I did on this frigid cold day.” OK, full disclosure: this may not be the most scintillating Ruffled Feathers ‘1111 Devotion’ post you’ve read. But the fact that my desire to be read by as many people as possible is pushing me to actually start creating a presence on Instagram  is big news in my living room.

Talk about getting messages. And being resistant to listening.

Face It, Facebook is Becoming Passé

I’ve watched and listened and observed first hand that younger people are eschewing Facebook. I’ve not wanted to acknowledge what I’ve been seeing because, heck, I’ve been busy feeling all ‘not-archaic’ for posting my blog’s link on my personal and two commercial FB pages!

While this realization about the fading status of FB wasn’t exactly breaking news, it seemed to culminate over the holidays, and I did. not. want. to. hear it. I did not want to admit that Instagram has quite obviously supplanted the popularity of Facebook – even if I was seeing it with my very own eyes. Well, through my kids’ eyes. So I just looked the other way.

How Many Times Did I Have to Hear It?

Then about a week ago, I’m in the local health food store and recognize a young person who used to stay at one of the places I would give Listening Retreats. When we started talking about when I would be scheduling my offerings for 2019, I asked her for her email.

She looked at me a little funny and said, “Gee, I rarely check my email.”

I wondered aloud if she was on Facebook – I could ‘friend’ her and she would see when I posted a Hoot Alert there… I let my voice trail off as I could tell she was going to lay on me the same comments my kids had. “Yeah,” she admitted. “I try to stay away from Facebook. It’s just too…” she reached for the right word.

“Yeah, I get it,” I said, interrupting her search. “I bet you’re on Instagram, though, right?”

I had a hard time hiding my irritation at the way her face brightened at the mention of Instagram. Not with her, but with my own annoying resistance to learning a new technology platform.

And then, again, when I was attending that CLE seminar in Philadelphia last week, weren’t there a few what I can only presume were Millenials standing near me on one of our breaks, waiting for hot water for tea. (And I make that presumption because I am pretty sure none of them had hit the big 3-0 yet.) I could see them scrolling on their phones, occasionally stopping the scroll, thumbs flying over the keys as they elicited that soft ‘slup slup’ keyboarding sound as they made comments or posted something of their own. One of them caught my eye and I laughed. “Instagram?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she replied, smiling. “It’s how I keep up.”

I Get By (or Got On) With a Little Help From My Friends

So today, with some shepherding and encouragement from Sarah (mysustainablechoices on Instagram), I took some steps, big to me, to actually make my Instagram account ‘live.’

And of course, when I excitedly shared my breakthrough with another of my tech-savvy friends (probably the most tech-savviest), cosmic.meta.crow, she helpfully (if a tad tongue-in-cheek) mused that I will now have a forum for all the photos I’m discovering and organizing. Ha ha. (But hey, at least that shows she’s been reading my posts!)

So this is the extent of my post today: to let the world know I’m going to be making my Ruffled Feathers blog, and 1111 Devotion posts, available on Instagram. And hopefully posting some cool photos, too.

Stay tuned you guys. You never know what’s going to happen when I start getting the hang of this. (I know, though. As soon as I really start to feel comfortable with it, some way cooler platform will come along and I’ll be going through this metamorphosis yet again.)

It does give me pause to wonder: Was getting over myself enough to give Instagram a try maybe at least one of the messages being sent to me by my Bat? It’s entirely possible.

Oh – and in case you’re wondering, my (what’s it even called? Account? Handle? – Don’t worry, I know it’s not that) is: owlmedicine29.

Join me! No. I guess it’s “Follow me!” Ha ha. And if you have any tips, feel free to share.

(T-1031)

Sometimes It’s Not Obvious – Day Seventy Five

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Sometimes It’s Not Obvious          

Even though I haven’t talked about it in quite a while, Karl and I continue to pick Medicine Cards each morning. And even though we’ve been consistently picking them every morning for the past, oh, twenty five years or so…sometimes it’s not obvious what Spirit’s trying to say through them.

For instance, I’ve had Bat in some configuration of my cards for the past four days in a row. And that damn Beaver’s shown up with it half the time. (You may recall Beaver was underneath my Prairie Dog on January 1st, setting the agenda for the year.)

Bat, Bat, and More Bat

So, yeah. On Tuesday I picked Bat/Beaver. Wednesday, Beaver reversed/Bat. (How’s that for weird, when you remember Karl shuffled and chose his cards between my two picks). Thursday I chose Fox reversed/Bat. And today I chose Bat/Eagle.

To be honest, I’m a little frustrated. Bat is one of my favorites. I love when it shows up in my cards. Not only do I love bats in the wild, but I also love what Bat represents archetypally, which is rebirth. And of course, in order to bring about rebirth, there has to be death.

Birth/Death/Rebirth

Bat is all about the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth.

On the one hand, that’s a tad scary. It’s a cycle of rather cataclysmic experiences, when you think about it. Giving birth is no walk in the park, although I can honestly only consciously reflect upon what it feels like to give birth. Not be born. And even if the cycle doesn’t pertain directly to our physical bodies, there is a finality to death that can be unsettling, at the very least.

And sure, there’s always rebirth. But will any remnant of that which died be recognizable in that which is reborn? Who knows.

Truth be told, I like to look at Bat as an opportunity to start anew. Yeah, something has to die. But I’d prefer to think I’m being asked to give up a way of being that no longer serves me (or maybe never did, and I’m only figuring that out now).

“Symbolic Death to the Old Ways of Life and Personal Identity”

“Bat embraces shamanistic death. The ritual death of the healer is steeped in secrets and highly involved initiation rites. Shaman death is the symbolic death of the initiate to the old ways of life and personal identity. (…)”

I love the idea of initiation, because for me it speaks of the sacred and signifies beginning – a fresh start – the act of setting foot on a new path of exploration and growth. I love the mysterious challenge inherent in the prospect of learning something unique and (hopefully) heretofore obscure, for when the word initiation is used, it always calls to mind, for me at least, something esoteric.

For the life of me, though, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be relinquishing.

Another paragraph that leaps off the page when I read Bat is:

“If Bat has appeared in your cards today, it symbolizes the need for a ritualistic death of some way of life that no longer suits your new growth pattern. This can mean a time of letting go of old habits, and of assuming the position in life that prepares you for rebirth, or in some cases initiation. In every case, Bat signals rebirth of some part of yourself or the death of old patterns. If you resist your destiny, it can be a long, drawn out, or painful death. The universe is always asking you to grow and become your future. To do so you must die the shaman’s death.”

I’ll be honest: I do not want to be so obtuse that I force myself into a long, drawn out, or painful death. And I am willing to embrace, and am even a bit excited at the prospect of, growing and becoming my future.

I sincerely yearn to ‘get the message.’ And I would much rather figure it out and consciously  let go than dither around bullshitting myself. So that’s what I’ll be contemplating this weekend.

Sometimes it’s not obvious.

Or maybe it is, and I just have to open my eyes (and my ears) and pay attention.

I’ll keep you posted; (wink). Pun intended.

(T-1036)

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Ice Cream Confession – Day Twenty (T-1091)

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Ice Cream Confession

Oh my Goddess, I should never have eaten that ice cream. I made the mistake last night of rewarding myself for – I don’t even know what, getting through the week? – by swinging past Owowcow and buying two pints of ice cream. All natural, organic-where-possible, locally-sourced ingredients in this hand-crafted ice cream, folks. It is good stuff.

I haven’t had any for quite a while (at least several weeks). But after my session with my client yesterday, I was seized with the brilliant idea that I should pop in to see if they had any unique flavors on offer – perhaps with a holiday theme.

As I drove up Route 412, at first I thought they might be closed. But as I approached the traffic light which marks its place on the map, I was beckoned by the soft amber light cascading out of the store’s picture windows. It felt like an oasis in the dark of the gloomy, starless night.

I took pity on the high schoolers tending ice cream bar last night; clearly they needed someone from the community to stop and make their employment worthwhile. I was their only customer; it was my responsibility to make a purchase. A pint of candy cane chocolate chip and another of espresso came home with me. The former flavor definitely unique to the holiday; the latter not. But I can’t remember the last time I had coffee ice cream, much less espresso. It called to me.

Funny, though – once I got home and made dinner, I didn’t bring it out. I didn’t even mention it to Karl, nor did I think about it for myself. I almost forgot about it.

But tonight? Well, that was a different story. Karl fell asleep on the couch fairly early and I was left to my own devices. I could hear the rain pouring down outside, the night once again cold and opaque.

I thought about my pick for the day (you knew that was coming, right?), and had to chuckle. Hardly any introspective spin to this tale. Nope. I’d chosen Rabbit reversed/Bat.

Hmm. Rabbit. Fear. Right side up, it’s a frustrating and not entirely unfamiliar story of being rejected. And then cursed. Not pretty. When it’s reversed, though, I like to focus on this recommendation:

“Take a hint from Rabbit. Burrow into a safe space to nurture yourself and release your fears until it is time again to move into the pasture, clear of prowlers who wasn’t a piece of your juicy energy.”

I didn’t feel like I was in danger, but I did feel like curling up into a soft, warm burrow and nurturing myself with ice cream. And Bat underneath? Well, I do feel as though I am dying to an old way of life and birthing something new. Not sure what yet, but it can be scary.

And now my tummy hurts. And it’s approaching midnight. And I realize all I’ve done is lament my indulgence – and justified it by my card pick this morning. Ugh. Gross.

But it was tasty. And that evil Owowcow deliciousness…the creamy delicacy melts ever so slowly and you just have to keep smoothing it off with your spoon, you know? Until all of a sudden you realize you’ve evened it out almost to the bottom of the container.