A MESSAGE IS INCLUDED WITH EVERY FEATHER I FIND

My interest in feathers was fueled a number of years ago by a dear literary friend from British Columbia who had studied in depth the celebration of "Potlatch" by the Indigenous peoples of Northwestern B.C.

While the symbolism of the feather and its connection to the "element of air" is one factor of why Indigenous peoples use feathers in their smudging rituals, birds in general play an extremely important role in the culture. Because of this, feathers are utilized in many rituals and ceremonies, and are commonly included in traditional clothing and costumes.

Birds in fact share many messages and lessons with Indigenous people. For instance, as a new day arrives and the sun begins to rise, birds greet the new day with their songs and help to wake everyone up for the new day. Each bird plays an important role, with specific work and tasks to be done throughout the day.

Wild Turkey feather from my
collection dwarfs one from a
Sparrow that also happened
to fall onto my path. I keep
them displayed together near
my computer keyboard as a 
reminder that size need not
be indicative of the value 
of the messages I convey on
this site.

Birds are also believed to have a special connection with the Creator, and the use of their feathers helps to forge a deeper connection with the Spirit, the Creator, and ourselves. That, succinctly, is at the root of my fascination for the discarded "gifts" that I find along the way, compliments of our winged friends. I am never without at least a dozen feathers scattered in various locations throughout my house at any one time.

I even devoted a chapter to the subject in one of the books I published a few years ago and more recently shared 50 feathers from my collection with a church congregation during a worship service I was leading.

For me, finding a feather is to experience the joy that lies behind its perceived meaning, and it creates an unblocking of any bad energies I may be experiencing at the time. It is almost instant as I feel the waves of peace crash around me.

While this harmless exercise requires a degree of creative imagination, believing that this moment is only for me gives personal space to explore any issues I may be experiencing, particularly those related to overcoming past hurt, which is a great comfort. 

From the realms of the divine to the physical world, feathers convey messages of love and care directly to us. Since they are believed to be sent by angels and to represent spiritual beings of light and faith, spotting one signifies that you are extremely fortunate to have found happiness and comfort in your day. A message, perhaps from Heaven, meant specifically for the one who finds it, probably in the grass or on a sidewalk immediately below a tree.

Finding any kind of feather can be a sign that your angels are nearby, but it can also serve as a reminder to tune in to the energy in the air around you so that your vibrations can be balanced. 

By pausing your thoughts and tuning into their golden white light, you can engage in introspective reflection and allow that light to energize your soul.

I am reminded of an incident involving my granddaughter Becky almost 30 years ago. A toddler at the time (now a mother of two sons) Becky had become my aide-de-camp with an uncanny radar in adding to a growing collection of feathers. 

My wife Anne had just passed away and we were visiting her grave site for the first time a few days after the funeral when Becky suddenly bolted from the car, almost before it had come to a full stop. She raced directly to a spot in the cemetery, some 50 yards away, and bent down as if to be picking up something.

When I caught up to her I realized she was standing directly on Anne's still ungroomed burial ground and lo and behold she was cradling a rather large black feather in her chubby hands.

Temporarily, I could not believe what I was witnessing. I vaguely recall mumbling words to the effect: "That (the feather) is surely a message from Gramma in Heaven and she's telling us not to be sad," to which Becky registered silent but knowing childish agreement; her radar for finding feathers having kicked in once again.

As we waited in amazement, without prompting Becky took it upon herself to carefully place the feather on her grandmother's grave stone. Overcome with the warm essence of Anne's presence, we paused in silence for a few minutes before turning and walking back to the car. A chorus of birds chirping in a distant tree broke the summery silence. We didn't say much on the way home.

Special emotionally moving spiritual moments like that you never forget.

A skeptic may well assign coincidental happenchance to what I have just described...I choose to be convinced otherwise, however.

There's no harm in any of that!