|Winter Solstice. December 2011. Acrylic on Vellum Bristol. 35" x 23".|
Back in early December, two nights before I learned I would have a son, I had a very vivid dream.
One of those dreams that immediately after waking you have to write it down.
One of those dreams that you know is rich and abundant with truth and meaning.
One of those dreams that you never forget.
I dreamt that I was principal of a school. But this school was actually held in a very old, robin's egg blue house that had a huge oak tree growing in the front yard. My vice principal was my friend Andrea, and in my dream she came to me wearing a periwinkle blue pencil skirt and jacket to say that there was an owl flying around the school diving at all the children in the classrooms. I told her to open all the windows facing the tree and to gather everyone outside--that I was going to catch the owl and get rid of it.
Next, in typical Connie dream fashion, I was crawling in a small attic space and out through a window, about to step onto a huge oak tree branch. The owl was tan in color facing me when all of a sudden a little boy grabbed my leg and said No. Don't grab the owl, it is suppose to be here. It lives here too.
I remember looking at him in my dream and knowing so deeply that he was my son. That this little boy was my child. That we were connected.
That's when I woke up and grabbed my journal. After that I looked up owl medicine/totem on the internet and found this:
Owl knows that all apparent manner of death is in fact a liberation into new life. Something must first be cleared away for anything new to be born. When a person moves, leaves a job or relationship, has a baby, adopts a new animal friend, something in the old life had to die for the new to be created. At the time it may seem incredibly painful because we have been taught that death is an ending, not a new beginning, and what is in the process of being born is always more beneficial than the old. (From Owl As Totem)