That made me think of two things simultaneously. One was a passage I read yesterday from the third book of Juliet Marillier's Sevenwaters Trilogy, in which an owl led Fainne's horse in much the same way. The second was a dimly remembered dream from the night before, in which I was part of a large indoor circle of people engaged in discussion of how best to make the many choices necessary as we move through our lives. The last two speakers had shared their sense that, if only we pay attention, we will be guided forward.
The thing most fascinating about all of this is that, just before the robin touched down the first time, I had been wondering what this blog post would be about. Usually I have at least a germ of an idea, but this morning I had bupkis. The robin, the book and the dream, though, turned that nothing into a something. A theme that has called to me throughout both my personal and professional lives flew from the verge of my awareness and landed at the center of the road.
After the message had been received, the real~life bird's job was apparently complete. Having helped me find this essay's focus, he flew off to resume his personal trajectory through the day. So with a nod of thanks to Mr. Robin, let's see where this might go.
As a psychotherapist, I have sat with hundreds of individuals in moments of great change. Significant pain was often part of their experience, but not always. Sometimes it was just a niggly sense that something was not quite right or that an aspect of their lives needed to shift. No matter the particulars, there was always something in their felt experience that offered a clue, some robin leading them on. It was for us to search for that messenger and, in finding it, let it lead us where it would.
Just as my dream companions suggested, I am convinced that if we listen carefully, a direction will always call us to it, guiding our next steps down the road. How we express that guidance in our lives, though, is more complex and not always clear. Such choices are part of the art of being human, and it is through interacting consciously with life that we become more fully ourselves.
It's largely accepted now that we don't arrive in the world unformed. Anyone who's raised a child knows they do not begin life as a blank slate waiting to be written upon, but appear with their own personalities, inclinations, and opinions as to how to move through the world. And yet, those bare bones we began with need to be fleshed out. This happens as we meet and make sense of the experiences we encounter. Our innate capacities interact with what life dishes out and between the two, we gather a sense of how to proceed. We also grow in awareness of who we are, an identity that is continually formed and reformed. Each experience we have and choice we make in response shapes us, creating the self we are ever in the process of becoming.
The eminent psychoanalyst Carl Jung explored and elucidated this process in his work on the archetype of the Self. Jung saw the development of Self as the essential psychological task of our lifetimes. He described Self as encompassing all parts of us: our personalities, egos, histories, personal unconscious, disowned components of our psyches, and aspects of the Collective Unconscious as well. This Self must become intimately familiar with each of these disparate elements and find a way, always hard~won, to hold them in a unified harmony. Quite a mission, one Jung described as highly creative and never complete.
The development of Self is the work of a lifetime. It is an endeavor requiring great courage, as we must ultimately do it alone. And yet, there are cairns on the path, companions and guides that can assist.
I wish you a whole flock of robins to grace your way, my friend. And I wish you, too, a deep and unwavering faith in your ability to hear their avian wisdom and let it guide you on down the road. Blessed be.
💜 💜 💜
Leia
