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White River Golden Eagle

White River Golden Eagle

 The golden eagle is a mainly a hunter.  Unlike his majestic brother the Bald Eagle, he preys.  When he must scavenge though, he follows the crow.  The golden eagle is highly recognized by the mystics.  He commands a sense of reverence when you witness him.  Confident but not arrogant.  He’s the silent ruler of the falcon family and resides in the secret place of the most high.

 Back in October, I took a pilgrimage from Taos, New Mexico to Northern California.  I have a native medicine friend who runs sweat lodge prayer and song ceremonies with the Trinity river tribes up in Bigfoot country.  Each year in the spring and fall he travels from his home in Taos to Mt. Shasta, California where he sets up a sweat ceremony at the headwaters of the Sacramento river facing the mountain.  At sunset Mt. Shasta looks like gold.  I mean gold rush gold.  Makes me think of Dolly Parton, Linda Rondstant, and Emmylou Harris’ version of Neil Young’s “After the Goldrush.”  Their performance is angelic.  My medicine friend’s name is Shaw and his story is epic.

 However, it’s not time or at least my time, to share much of his story.  It’s a long one, an inspirational one and ongoing.  He was the second person I met after coming down from three days alone in the Southern Rockies.  The first person being his blind date, a friend of a friend.  

 Most of the world is unaware.  Unaware as in self unaware.  I encourage you who may read this one day to look back at when your life has shifted and what surprises occurred then.  I know that in the past while in deep emotional water there have been people and signs that have guided me along the way.  Now, with some experience, I know that had my inner currents been at peace in those times, the guiding lights may have been too much to capaciate or I may have taken them idly.  I believe that spirit is always ready to lead us to the next right place when we allow it.  Gently flying our inner ship just beneath the surface to balance restored.  

 The part of my pilgrimage story I want to share today isn’t really my story.  It’s the story Shaw told me when he and I pulled off the highway to make a sandwich behind a dune. We were alongside the salt lake named Seveir along Route 50 in Utah.  Back in 1983, Shaw broke down in a little 70’s model Chevy LUV truck at this same location except up on the highway.  He'd brought two cases of oil with him to try and get him and that leaky truck across the country to help his teacher Charlie Redhawk Thom do a sweat in Baltimore.  

 Shaw’s got the hood up and it’s sunset.  The way the elements fall together at sunset in Utah are purely magical.  It can leave a twinkle in your eye for days.  The hood’s up and Shaw’s looking for ways to bandaid the oil leak long enough to get him to Colorado where he can catch a ride.  Then these two cowboys blow by him and hit the brakes.  They threw their beat up red F250 in reverse and came back to see if he needed some help.  They get out dusty from the day and loose from the bar and ask him if he wants a beer.  Shaw obliged and they shared a beer and a few laughs over the truck.  They offered to give him ride but he declined.  Said he had about a half a case of oil left ha ha.  

 Just after the cowboys rode away he noticed a Golden Eagle on a telephone pole.  Golden Eagle feathers symbolize the honor that that bird possesses.  It reminds us of what we can accomplish if we remain reverent and confident.  Really these two qualities boil down to trust.  

 Shaw said he eased his way behind the truck then slid over and behind the pole closest to him.  Slowly and in the shadows he approached the eagle’s perch in hopes he would leave him a feather.  He began talking to the eagle and thanking him for showing him the way.  He thanked him for a feather and threw down some tobacco in honor of the creator's message.  The golden eagle let out a cry and flew across the sky disapperaing into the last moments of daylight.  Shaw found his first eagle feather that day.  That’s not the end of that story though.  

 I believe the creator communicates in whatever form of prayer and gratitude we feel comfortable with.  There’s an exciting life that awaits each and every one of us every day.  When I let go of trying to control things the most amazing things happen.  To some they could be miracles.  Writing this stuff down is a constant reminder for me to stay on the path myself.  I forget often.  I’m anxious to share more with you and hope the right messages meet the right person at the right time.  What an honor it is for us to do our part each day to help each other along the way.  I saw a rare golden eagle along Route 50 in Indiana the other day. He was atop a telephone pole.  Glory to God. 

 

“After the Goldrush”

https://youtu.be/4CoM9rMQuXE

 

Blog Index

Faith Is The Middle Road
    posted 2017-12-04

White River Golden Eagle
    posted 2017-11-30

Wild Birds and Fence Rows
    posted 2017-11-29

The Current
    posted 2017-11-28