The moon was so bright when I stepped out to look at it last night; it illuminated the trees surrounding our yard. A huge shape in one of the trees leapt off a branch and flew towards the house—a magnificent owl. I could almost hear the swoosh of wings as it went by, but it was silent. Wouldn’t it be great to see in the dark like an owl: to know that I could fly through the deep woods without hitting a branch; to trust those instincts leading me to life sustaining food?
The instincts leading me to become my true self are buried deep within. They are in my very DNA. I need to silence the clamor trying to pull me away and listen with attentiveness. And then I need to leap off that branch trusting in the wind holding me aloft.