Last night the winds of change blew with great spirit.  Rain hit the windows sideways.  The new metal roof was put to the test.  This morning everything was left slippery, the tail end of this spirit wind still visible.  I stepped gingerly down the steps, scraped the ice from my windshield, and headed out the drive. 

Despite being ill, I understood the night before that I would be heading for unexplored territory—a lake higher in the mountains, one that had been waiting for me.  I also knew that no one else would be there.   From a distance, it looked more like a pond, planted in the middle of a rolling plain, no trees, but sagebrush bumping into each other.  I imagined how hot it would be there in the summer.

As I neared, I saw an amazingly large flock of small birds, almost like a swarm, a cloud moving fast to and fro.  Suddenly I was in the middle of this avian dance.  Swallows!  Hundreds of them!   I watched, transfixed.  They gave me no mind.  

Swallows catch insects in flight, often seen swooping over bodies of water for a tasty morsel.   With the wind charging across the open plain the way it was, there was little chance of an aerial meal. 

 Two and two were beginning to make four as I was drawn into this phenomenon.  Swallows are not adapted to ground feeding like robins and sparrows.  But they were landing, or maybe dropping down from a place inches above the ground, with an odd gyration of their wings.   They seemed to be landing for a split second, just long enough to pick insects from the ground, using their wings in place of feet, a strange graceful twisted flap moving them a slight inch forward—wing walking!   Just as fast, one more charged flap and they were once again in the air.  One end of a wave going down, a rush of wing movement  across the ground, and the other end rising up—hundreds of wings but seemingly one mind, one flowing movement.  For the longest time, I studied this low-flying mass of swirling, dipping swallows moving in front, behind and around me, grateful that these aerial creatures were undisturbed by my presence. 

Of course there was a message waiting for me—yet another winds-of-change message.  These swallows were undaunted by these unrelenting winds.  They weren’t confused.  They didn’t fall apart because their circumstances suddenly changed.  They didn’t miss a beat…or a wing flap.  They went with the flow, and with such grace. Life changed.  They found a new approach, a different “feeding ground.”  

Can we be like the swallows?  Not confused, lost, or blown to pieces by the winds of the moment?  Can we be one with the change, using it to our advantage?   Using change to carry us forth rather than pummel us to the ground?The winds of change are strengthening.  The signs are everywhere.  It’s important to pull ourselves from our reverie-now.  It’s even more important to begin to prepare. 

How does one prepare?  Philosophies are many:  physical preparation, mental, emotional, energetic.

As the wind continues to roughen the surface of this small lake, oddly, I am suddenly seeing myself get on an airplane.  There before me is a flight attendant going through the emergency procedure talk.   Have you ever noticed how few passengers listen? 

Whenever I fly I always make a point of listening.  I take notice of where I am sitting, where the emergency exits are.  I get my bearings.  It’s a matter of being responsible.  Not only may I have to get myself to safety, I may have to help others.  Putting my own oxygen mask on first has always been the stand-out message—a metaphor.  Without preparing myself I jeopardize my own safety and that of others.  It’s prudent to be self-reliant, think on one’s feet, keep eyes wide open, and like a good hiker, always be tuned into changes up, down and all around.   I say with all seriousness: the only way to help others is to prepare yourself. 

A spiritually practical means of preparation is to address our fears, phobias, and insecurities.  The less fear the more our hearts can lead the way.  Hearts have the capacity to find and live ways that fear won‘t allow.  Hearts embrace adaptability, fear can’t. Let our heart guide our actions.

Be like the swallows.  Flock together, join hands and hearts, become one—a “we” instead of a “me”.   Together, the winds of change can bring the best out of us or to us.  In the correct wing position we can use the winds of change to propel us into a whole new paradigm, one that’s born of cooperation …and harmony …and peace.  May we all learn to wing walk.  The time is now!