Take Flight

I had just spent the day away from home, wandering about Ikea and feeling blissful about the rain. I felt light too, not a care in the world. I pressed the button shutting off the stereo, my cheeks feeling hot in the late winter night, which was odd. All the snow had been melted from a recent lucky streak of sunny days and was being replaced by large plops of rain chasing each other down my windshield. In the silence of the hum of my car, gas needle pointed to empty I felt my eyes grow wet, and create a puddle just a tiny bit at the rim. I had gotten the call from my mom. Then she casually told me my new shoes arrived in the mail as well.

I had been served a subpoena to arrive in court. My stomach immediately recoiled, and I played it off. Keeping my voice sweet. All I envisioned was the cop handing my mom the papers in the rain in the driveway of the house I grew up in. It was finally happening, and this was becoming a sturdy reality. 

In 2012 I had been involved with a heavy emotionally destructive relationship that over a few months escalated into stalking, abuse, and harassment. The State, now charging him with several felonies for the harm he cause to me and my family. Reality was in the passenger seat next to me on the freeway as I hummed through the night. For the past year or so I had felt emotionally drained, like I had forgotten who I was with all the muddle and heartache. The case did everything and more to my sense of self. I fell quiet and isolated. Even more, I pretended like nothing had ever happened. That I was fine and if I don't speak up it won't keep haunting. It kept getting harder to hold it in, because the more time went by the more I felt like it never was real.  That I was feeling so down and out for no reason. Worse off nobody asked. It was hoodoo amongst my loved ones. I could even detect distance when I mentioned the weight to friends. I couldn't blame them, because it sat just as heavy with me. 

I set my car to cruise control, slowing my speed. I didn't want to go home and see that subpeona sitting on top of my package arrived in the mail like just a normal day. It seemed to ominous, to bleak. Often enough it would feel like a dark whole I couldn't quite climb out of. How was I ever going to face this guy in court? 

Then, like a miracle out of heaven,  I thought of this conversation I had with a friend at work. Somehow the conversation landed on birds. Not many people just strike up conversations about birds with me. This was a huge deal. My whole teenage years, I had fallen into a pattern of finding feathers (quite literally) underneath my toes directly in my path. I'd pick them up, and feel their tiny hairs growing in unison against the spine. I'd be in awe, every single time  taking them home in my pocket, or lodged in my hair behind my ear. They had risen to become a sign that God was telling me I was on the right path. Nothing on earth spoke to me as clearly as those feathers did. Birds became a beacon of who I wanted to become and how God views me. I even had a blog for years labeled "Little Feather." My Grandmother instilled that in me as a kid,  as we'd received birding books as gifts and watch the Blue Jays land in her backyard to eat peanuts. An avid birder, she'd always swear that looking to the sky was a persons happiest moments. She was a lighthouse, a guardian angel I always wanted to mimic. Anyway, back to this friend. He started talking about a Peregrine falcon, this falcon becoming close to extinction and only a few occupied the earth. This birds maximum speed reaching 200+ miles per hour in flight,  would knock pelicans off balance in a single strategic motion. This sent the pelican plummeting into the sea, ready for the falcon to devour. The circle of life. To me this was more than a typical conversation. It was my message in disguise. My eye opener, my symbol, my…dare I say it…little feather falling in my path. My message.  

I realized how important it was for me to get back to myself. I felt so strongly that I needed to advocate others to speak up, and let go of being afraid. Especially women, who feel they either need to hold back or hide what has really happened to them without fear of judgment that they may be criticized further. Uniting and then expressing can help bear the burden. I truly felt that speaking openly about your life, can help another deeply, by feeling less alone. 

As I walked up my steps, opened my door, and sure enough. The subpoena lay atop the brown package and the daily mail, just how I imagined. I kicked off my shoes. I felt like a bird. This was no feather in my path, but I felt I was being restored again, after a very very long time. This was it. It was time to close this ugly chapter in my life. It is time for me to take flight.