library Archives - Owl Medicine: Shamanic Healing

“Original Owl” @ Tinicum Elementary – Photo: L. Weikel

Original Owl

Last week when I attended the program put on by the Penn State Extension Service on the Spotted Lanternfly, I had occasion to visit the new library at Tinicum Elementary School.

All three of our sons attended Tinicum, and I have to say, overall the school provided them with a great start to their academic lives. The teachers, especially, and Mrs. Wessel (who was principal when both Karl and Maximus attended) (Sage was shortchanged by her retirement) made the school one of those idyllic places where everyone knew everybody else’s child, we were a small, tightly knit but respectfully private community, and we all knew our kids came first in everyone’s minds.

So it was with a cloak of nostalgia draped around my shoulders that I walked into the new entrance to Tinicum’s school library to attend the aforementioned bug program.

Once Upon a Time, a Long Time Ago

The old school library used to have a diorama in it, with most of our local fauna represented in living color for the children to see ‘up close and personal.’ As a result, when Karl and I found the Great Horned Owl that ultimately became the ‘star’ of my book, Owl Medicine, we had it stuffed by a local taxidermist and donated it to the school.

At the time of that donation, actually, only Karl was a student at Tinicum. Maximus was in preschool and Sage wasn’t even a blip on our radar yet. Wow. So long ago it almost seems like another life.

Anyway, I’d heard (and could see from the outside) that major renovations had been done to the school and that the diorama had been dismantled. I worried that they’d done something with our owl, but did not have the heart to go look. I just knew it would make me too sad to contemplate it if the owl had been ‘disposed of.’

(Not to mention the fact that in order to get anywhere near the school anymore, you practically have to have six different forms of ID and a notarized note from your mother to gain entry. It is stunning to me the difference between how accessible our school was ‘back then’ compared to the lock-down status most schools keep themselves in now. That loss should go on my list of ‘topics for another day.’)

Waves of Nostalgia and a Sense of Continuity

Which leads me back to last week, when I entered the library and almost immediately noticed “our” owl swooping into the library from the back, in the wonderful pose we’d chosen for it. Warm feelings of nostalgia and continuity swept over me when I caught sight of our very personal and beloved contribution to our elementary school.

Truth be told, relief also swept over me. I’m so glad it’s still keeping a watchful eye on the children.

Seeing it again –such a handsome, majestic bird – and fully appreciating the profound impact finding this bird had on my life, is rather astonishing.

Yet Another Lesson on the Importance of Listening

As I described in my book, I knew when I saw a Great Horned Owl hanging upside down at the side of the road, its lifeless body dangling from a grapevine wrapped around one of its legs, that this discovery was important. It meant something bigger than just a tragic avian mishap.

I can tell you with complete honesty, though, that never in a million years would I have believed you if you told me I would eventually write a book called Owl Medicine and also name my shamanic healing practice Owl Medicine Shamanic Healing. (Indeed – if you’d told me at that stage of my life that I would become a shamanic practitioner I would’ve either laughed in your face or looked at you as if you had two heads.)

But here we are.

Here I am, writing this blog entitled “Ruffled Feathers” on my website (also named after our owl). My sons are men. Karl-the-younger is gone (or is he?), and Karl and I are still taking walks – every day – past the exact spot where we found that owl 28 years ago.

Kind of amazing.

(T-948)

Library Annex

I’m excited.

Granted, it doesn’t generally take a lot to make me happy, but I haven’t experienced this particular ‘excitement’ in quite a while.

Karl and I engaged in some serious decluttering this weekend. Oh my goodness; I feel liberated.

Decluttering and Books

Most of my efforts were directed toward rearranging our books. We are incredibly lucky to have a wonderfully extensive – if eclectic – collection. They can be broken down roughly into about ten categories: metaphysics; shamanism (a subcategory, it could be argued, but we have so many it has to be its own category); writing; science fiction; art/creativity; reference (yep, I refuse to get rid of our bound World Book encyclopedias, various dictionaries, thesauri, atlases); memoir; general fiction/young adult/feminist literature; plant/nature/environmentalism; and divination.

When we purchased our home back in 1985, a significant appeal was the ‘library’ (really just the dining room), which had bookshelves taking up all the free space on every single wall. The former owners had painted the walls behind the stained wooden built-in shelves a dark green, mimicking the deep green felt of libraries of yore.

Naturally, we were obligated to fill those shelves.

And through the years and the raising of three sons, through both lean and flush times, our greatest single indulgence as a family was books. In fact, for many years, it was our tradition to go to Borders on New Year’s Day. Although, truth be told, any excuse would do – and it didn’t have to be the start of a brand new year.

Borders and Barnes & Noble

Travel soccer tournament in Virginia? No problem! We’d just scope out a bookstore that we could retreat to between games. Ideally, we’d look for a local independent store, but for a while there, the easiest finds were the ubiquitous ‘big box’ purveyors, namely the aforementioned Borders and Barnes & Noble. They also had the best hours. Any trip anywhere, no matter where or for what purpose, would always be made better by tracking down a bookstore.

We’d often find something small and local almost everywhere we went because, being the odd ducks that we were, we would seek out the ‘metaphysical’ bookstores. Our experience was that the ‘big box’ stores were resistant to carrying selections out of the mainstream – at least at first. Or maybe I should say, their selections of shamanic books, for instance, were so pathetically inadequate that they would rarely be worth our time. (In other words, they carried Castaneda. Period.)

The appeal, though, of the bigger stores was the selection of magazines they carried. Son Karl would inevitably snag the latest copy of Fortean Times, and as we drove home or to the next soccer game, he would read us outlandish snippets from its pages.

Maximus and Sage would almost always find something to read, at least while we browsed. And lot, a lot, a lot of comedy found its way home from these excursions. Indeed, every Farside anthology published can probably be found somewhere in this house.

Come to think of it, Karl and I used to get teased by our fellow parents at soccer games because we’d never show up without each harboring a book.

Library Annex

Anyway…

My delight in what we worked on this weekend stems from the fact that the bedroom that used to be Maximus’s is now entirely a library annex to our downstairs branch! This has enabled me to free up the shelves downstairs – no more books piled crossways on top of those regularly shelved – or I could say stuffed. And the cool thing is that it doesn’t feel as though I am making room to buy more books, although that will always remain a possibility. (Just so everyone knows, we are dedicated library-goers as well.)

Rather, freeing up our shelves and creating an upstairs library is more of an energetic opening than anything else. It feels like we’re creating more room to allow our creativity to flourish.

And that, my friends, is truly exhilarating.

(T-1090)