How the past mingles with now

I dive into my past. I recall the meaning of the protective animals all around me. I never could understand symbolic animals but what was drilled into me.

The true depth of why I was frequently addressed by these animals. Oh how my father's side dwelled on these such things.

The white wolf. Always to keep myself in balance. The protection of keeping my spiritual and physical realms in life balanced.  The other benefits were that associated with courage, strength and loyalty.I always saw her when I was in a rough part of life.

Then the ravens. They didn't scare me like their cousins the crow. The beauty of the ravens. The constant understanding of transformation. Not in the sense of shape shifting. Although that is what my family believed.

Me no. When I saw the raven in my life I knew there would be a big change in my life. That form of major transformation. I realize now after having the bible inside my mind, I cannot help to think I was lost.

Yet just yesterday I saw a raven seated on my balcony. Not a crow. A raven. My only thought was that of a major change in my life.

Then I laughed. I had thought yes, I will be changing a lot in the road before me. Many different, unsteady steps but then even my mind was crossed about the thoughts. So much that when I went to sleep, I dreamed of my white wolf.

I dreamed of my grandfather talking with me. It was profound in what he was saying.

I woke up long enough to see if he was real. Then I recalled how many years ago he passed. Then the white wolf entered again.

So much of my past echoing in my dreams. No. No I have no reason to fall back, yet the significance is understood.

I don't believe on animal symbolism, now. Yet I couldn't shake the need to talk to my grandfather.  And his words as a child stinging my face.

I washed away so many pieces of me. My identity to fit in somewhere. Only to still feel like I am lost. I never quite settled.

Hence why the nomad, the gypsy part is labeled upon my skin. The parts of me that remain white. The hits of no mixed blood. Yet I am so jumbled that nothing is pure.

So then my thoughts of the raven. Oh how regal. So beautiful before me. How could I deny the truth in which it sat before me for moments.

Just as much as I will not deny the hummingbird dancing in front of my face just last year.  Some things you have to stop and admire. Give thanks to Jehovah.

And I did. Not really soaking back into my past but acknowledging my growth. It was a welcoming thought to reassure me I will be okay. My strength and courage will be given when I need it.

I will soar. In so many ways.

So yeah the little girl in me is finding her identity again. Leaning into Jehovah. Slowly making a pathway over rocks and weeds.

Time is what I will need.  As for the raven, I laugh. I hold onto the beauty not the meaning.

Then the white wolf walking alongside my grandfather, well I feel comfort. I know I will survive this ordeal just like many others.