“The owl sees through the darkness, illuminating the soul’s path.” – author unknown

A couple of weeks ago, I was having a bad Jill day. I had managed to work myself up into a lather about the world unrest and the uncertainty of its impact on my future. I am well aware that envisioning anything outside of this moment is of absolutely no use and often ends up being incorrect, but that day, my ego had taken over, and doom was inevitable 😉.

I had followed my regular bedtime routine, and the reading seemed to calm me enough that sleep took over. Around 1 am, I awoke for my typical nighttime bathroom break, returned to bed, and found myself feeling overly alert until around 3 am, when I heard an odd noise.

What was interesting about this noise was that my dog, who sleeps beside my bed, did not react. I assumed it was melting snow falling from the house and continued with my unhealthy ruminations. About 30 minutes later, it happened again. The sound was like a snowball hitting against a back window. This time, even though there was no canine activity, it caused me to get up and see what was going on.

I walked into the dark kitchen and directed my attention toward the sliding glass door leading to the deck. This is when my eyes were drawn towards an unfamiliar silhouette, which became more evident as I approached. There sat a barred owl, staring at me. I thought for sure that it would move as I neared the glass, but it didn’t. We locked eyes and just looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity. I finally decided that it must be seeing its reflection, so I turned on the outdoor light, and it flew away. I returned to bed only to be stirred once again about 30 minutes later—the same sound on the glass. My friend was not done with me.

This time, he was illuminated, sitting in the same spot, with the same stare.  Again, I stood entranced in such a beautiful, calming moment. Again, no movement from my dog. How had this visitor come without alarming my little protector? Maybe Stella knew the owl was there and that there was no need for alarm; this was a message for me alone. I believe the message was not to get caught up in the madness of the lost souls, but to be confident that reality is far more extensive than our intelligence allows. We are safe, loved, and at peace. I turned on the interior lights to let the owl know that I understood and that it was free to go and help others. I went back to sleep peacefully.

Life will see me watching the world as I would a movie. Observing the action but anchoring myself to the reality of my moments. Feeling compassion for the lost, but knowing that one day we will all be reunited. Safe, loved, and at peace.