Totems

I've always seen broad similarities between Judaism and Native American life: peoplehood, culture, law, and spirituality all wrapped into one. For a long time I thought the particulars were completely different, especially of the religious aspects, until I started seeing similarities between animism and Kabbalah. I always felt drawn toward the part of Kabbalah that speaks of the divine spark being in all things, and frankly whenever I'm in nature, I understand animism.

Totems have no such sister in Judaism, and I'd never felt truth when reading about them, but if there is any truth in totems, my totem would be birds.

OK, so that doesn't quite jive with the traditional view - I should say "eagle" or "heron" and be a little more specific. But no, for me it's birds. At several junctures in my life, a bird has arrived on the scene, and not of the same species each time. First I didn't see any meaning in my bird sightings. Not even when I saw four bald eagles up in Whistler did I listen to the stillness in my heart. I figured it was some odd patriotism reaching up from my depths, or awe at seeing a rare and beautiful bird.

Next came the condor. California condors are exceedingly rare, huge vultures. It was on my first drive home to Sacramento after Eliana was born that we were driving in the car and I saw one out my window. I couldn't believe it, I thought it must have just been a large turkey vulture, but as I came closer, it was at least twice the size of any turkey vulture I'd ever seen. Much later I realized that just before I'd rounded that bend in the road, I'd been shaken out of my sadness about my birth experience with the epiphany that my husband gave me half a cell and I wove a miracle from it.

And a year ago, I met with a woman who has become a friend, and looked up as we were talking to see a white barn owl. (This might not be remarkable except for where we live and the fact that I've never seen one before or since.) By now I was starting to pay attention when visited by a bird, and I thought maybe it was a blessing on new friendship. That may well be right on its own, but now feels even more significant in that this woman is a midwife and here I embark on my own path to midwifery.

Likewise, today's visit speaks to birth and beginnings. And endings. While walking home from Elly's school, pushing Donovan in the stroller, I was thinking about his birth, coming to terms with its imperfections and with the end of my time as a pregnant mother or birthing woman. And out of the sky dropped a hawk, who landed on the tree right in front of me. I stopped and watched him. He hopped on his big raptor claws onto a bush below, then flew back into the tree. I stood there with Donovan, looking from him to the bird, wondering what he was here to tell me. He flew away and I took the long route home, still sorting out his message. I didn't settle on one... but I do feel better.

So totems. I still don't know whether there is truth to them. The rational Westernized me thinks these events are simple coincidences. But while I keep both feet firmly on the ground, I'll continue to take note when a powerful bird visits... to sit still for a moment and think.