This story came from Robin Yaklin, who sent it after reading our post on Nancy Pickard. It’s one of those synchronicities that illustrates the power of a vision that may not come to pass tomorrow or even next month, but perhaps years from now. It also addresses something else we’ve discussed on this blog – birds as messengers.
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Something went pop in my head and then came the pain like the devil slowly inserted a knife. Pressing my hands on either side of my head, I rested my forehead on my desk and prayed God would make it stop. And, then it did, suddenly like it had come.
A note card lay open with half a sentence composed. I kept looking at it, waiting for the pain to resume. Nothing happened so I began again on the note. I came to the word ‘and’. I could not get the correct order of the letters in that simple word. Then began the dizziness. Long story shortened, medical referrals were made until I ended up with a neurologist and a prescription for anti-drepressants. I didn’t like the medication. No, I hated it. I complained repeatedly. No one listened.
Acupuncture was a last resort. During a treatment I had two visions. First a round bubble shape, brilliantly red, with white outlining a swan’s wings. The wings were stretched out as though the bird would take flight. Beautiful. I wanted it to last, but it faded and another image came – this time, the cross section of a brain. I knew it was my brain. It was divided crosswise so that it had four quadrants. The front two were blue as well as the back left. Only the right back section was red. The acupuncturist, an internist from China, was troubled and he suggested I follow-up on this since, in Traditional Chinese Medicine, blue means stasis. “Just a hunch,” he said.
I didn’t know what to do. I had to think these visions over. A few weeks went by. Driving home one day from an appointment with the unyielding neurologist, in tears, I resolved to take this into my own hands. This was hell. I called a friend who has MS and she listened and came to the same conclusion I had—find a new neurologist. She offered hers and I pursued getting an appointment.
The second opinion neurologist was friends with the former neurologist and a bit testy about my questioning her. He demanded I reveal her diagnosis. I refused and demanded back that he begin his analysis with a fresh perspective. We glared at each other. He wanted to know what tests she had performed. I said, “None.” He announced that I needed blood work and other tests to eliminate easily determined diagnoses. This made sense. I was willing to do it, but his tone bothered me. His announcement was like a challenge, like he wanted to see if his long list of to-do’s would discourage me. Maybe I’d go away, dontchaknow. Last on his list was an MRI of the brain.
The phone call: “Put everything down. Don’t lift even a purse or grocery sack. I don’t want to hear you went mall walking for four hours. You can walk your hall to the bathroom and that’s about it. Your have aneurysms. Call these surgeons.” I had five little lethal bubbles. Pardon the pun, if I say it was breath-taking.
Four surgeries were needed. In a crazy attempt to make believe life was still normal, my husband and I would go to the grocery store each night before the surgery and stock up for my homecoming. I think we were making believe there would be a homecoming. By our house is a lake. The night before the first surgery, a beautiful swan settled on it. A few days later, he was gone. He did this each night before the operations. Who could help saying, “I get the message, God.” I bought a silver charm and hung it around me neck.
During the last surgery, I had a very small stroke, but a stroke, nonetheless. I’m a writer. My language skills were affected. The beautiful Persian carpet on our floor became a towel because that was the only word I could access for it. There were other problems. I was still dizzy. Typing floundered. Handwriting stopped. My right side was weaker. Healing has taken years. I’m almost fully recovered and, as a reward, I signed up for BONI – Breakout Novel Intensive, a writers’ retreat/workshop.
My hotel room had a view of the river and some rocks on which a cormorant sat. One sunny windy day, he splashed around in the water, then hopped onto the rocks and spread his wings–glistening, beautiful, powerful wings exactly in the shape of my vision.
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I think the sighting of this cormorant bodes well for Robin’s full recovery.
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I think the sighting of this cormorant bodes well for Robin’s full recovery.
Robin – it's a moving story and all of us wish you the best. Thanks for letting us post your story!
– Trish
My breath is taken away and tears are falling. Thank you, each of you, for such lovely messages.
I'd like to add that in American Indian totems, the swan is a transformative being. A well-known author (oh, how I'd like to use her name, but without permission–no,no) saw my swan charm. As she signed my book, she drew a dragonfly and told me that dragonflies lead the swan into the dreamtime and that she'd like to give me that totem. I added another charm after that.
Now I've come full circle. As was written, the cormorant makes the most striking dives. I plan to do just that.
Thank you all!
Robin
Mike – thanks for the tip on the symbolic meaning. Seems to fit. Nat – maybe swans are the archetype of the week!
Connie – nice poem!
That is such a wonderful story. I am cheering you on, Robin. 🙂
There is also a small synchro for me also this week …I was shown in meditation this week, a beautiful, large swan, made entirely of crystal and light. It was also breathtaking, but in a different way. ♥
wv = entinat
beautifully poignant story with a lesson for us all – as dp says – honor our inner voice – beautiful!! and our innate relationship with all forms of life in all kinds of ways –
and great comments, all!
A beautiful story about honoring our inner voice, and our connections with nature.
Robin…what an appropriate name…thse orange-breasted lovely harbingers of Spring; of new beginnings! As many of you know, I'm not only a numerologist but also a cryptologist: one who deciphers symbols and codes. I find this occupation so informative and satisfying! Birds are Messengers. Cultures around the world consider them to be Carriers of enlightened souls. My personal totem is The Black Swan, which represents our innate abilities to transcend whatever distresses may befall us, and they represent magical recoveries when none seem possible. The Black Swan is rarely seen, and it has been my totem since I was a child. Robin, according to legend, Swans, whether white or black, represent serenity, Grace, the Higher Self, and The Holy Spirit. They are Bringers of the Light, and what a glorious gift it has been for you to have them accompany you through your most difficult times! My heart is with you. I share a similar story to yours, but in my situation, the neurological issue turned out to be advancing late-stage Parkinson's Disease. I, too, am a prolific writer, and am discovering now that my once-perfect typing is gone; my once-attractive hand-writing is messy; and that I often can't think of words, which is scary because I was once vain about owning a photographic memory. When writing now, I tend to transpose letters in words and my mind will blank out on me. I'm a medical professional, and often can't think of clinical terms that I know as well as I know my name. When I become most frightened, and most depressed, (a common symptom of PD), a pair of gray doves will invariably come and descend into our backyard outside my door, and softly coo and sing so beautifully. As I was being prepped for a surgical procedure on my heart not too long ago, and was tucked in on the gurney waiting to go into the surgical theatre, after the pre-opt sedative had been administered and as I was beginning to drift into that netherland of drowsiness, a bit of prose layered itself into my mind, unsought, and I knew it was telling me that I would be in a wondrous space during the surgery and would return intact. regardless of whatever might happen. I'll share my little bit of prose with you, that I later entitled The Flight Of The Phantom Swan:
"Day is done.
This final hour brings blessed peace and breathes a misty cloud upon the trees….its whispered sigh the Dusk that slowly falls and wraps the Earth in sleep.
Oh welcome Friend, the Night!
Her widespread wings like softest featherdown: a great Black Swan who comes to lift me up and fly with me behind the Twilight Veil!"
You and I and others like us are lifted on those wings, Robin, and we are brought back by them. Cherish your swans. They are your symbols of Life, and of recovery!
Slowly, as a swan flies, but just as surely. cc
As maggie's garden wrote, this is a 'beautiful post.'
I read in a book of symbolism: "When it (a cormorant)appears in our life as a message, it is a reminder for us to dive in to what we have been hesitating about. The cormorant teaches us how to dive into the waters of life creatively especially if we wish a new birth."
Best wishes to Robin.
What a remarkable woman. She's been through so much, and has come out of it okay…beautiful post. I love birds, and think if I could be one I'd be a mourning dove dropping off some peace and love to you today.
coo coo!
P.S.
I am anxiously awaiting the arrival of Synchronicity. Amazon has shipped! WooHoo!!
Robin, as soon as you said you couldn't process information properly or get the proper order of the letters, I knew you had had a brain event of some sort. I am just astounded that a neurologist would not have made that connection! And I am so happy about the positive outcome, with the affirmations from God.