henrietta hummingbird
It’s one of my last days at the coffee shop. My coworkers and I are standing around chatting about geocaching and randonautica. Going off on a tangent, one of them says, “oh, you know, like the dead hummingbird outside.”
And immediately I’m like, “excuse me, WHAT?”
“Yeah, there’s a dead hummingbird outside in the rocks. It’s sad, I think it ran into the window.” She shrugs like it wasn’t a big deal, then watches curiously as I depart from the conversation to go investigate.
Immediately I run to the back of the shop, fling open the door and look to my right. I see it there laying in between the rocks. I hop over and crouch down and look at it up close. It was indeed a dead hummingbird. Its eyes were gone, and I gazed at it’s shimmering feathers in wonder. Eden and Holland had followed me outside at this point.
In that moment I reflected on my Arizona journey, about the most profound lessons I’ve learned about ascension the past few days, about the dream I had about the dead hummingbird at the coffee shop months ago. About the conversation I had with my spirit guide Daphne months ago:
Me: Is that why I’m dreaming about the dead blue bird over and over in different situations?
Daphne: The bird has no significance. It’s what the bird does.
Me: Well, what? The bird dies.
Daphne: Exactly.
Me: So?
Daphne: You seem to be so comfortable with that fact.
Me: Well, yes. It is just like in this vision, of all of these people hanging from trees. It does not disturb me, because I know there is life after death. I have the visions, but then all of those people are beautiful and brilliant and walking next to me anyway, knowing that the soul continues, no matter what, in whatever realm.
Daphne: You may know that, but not everybody else does. That is why you keep having the dream. Your understanding of death is different.
One of my coworkers went to go grab a box, and I picked up the hummingbird and held it in my hands, thinking about all of the times my grandmother Libby had sent me hummingbirds to let me know I was safe the past couple of years.
And even last week, before I had these spiritual revelations on ascension and soul families, I had gone up to visit Cave Creek, and I saw a hummingbird drink out of a cactus just outside the window of my car, and a few minutes later I walked into a coffee shop and saw a huge hummingbird on the mural on the wall drinking out of a flower.
My grandmother knew exactly what I was about to do, and what was about to happen here.
And now here is this dead hummingbird, at work, the same as it was in my dream, a symbol of death and rebirth. A symbol of unbearable pain followed by complete peace. My heart was full, knowing the synchronicities and why everything happens the way it does in life from a spiritual point of view.
I brought it inside and we placed it in the box, and one of my coworkers said, “should we anoint her?”
We all agreed and we stood around the box as she dropped a couple drops of oil on it’s head. I smiled, loving the fact that she’s somebody who carries that with her everywhere.
And it’s just interesting, you know, how you can be at work at a coffee shop and there can be so much chaos and laughter and frustration and work to do that’s very 3D, but how in a split second you can also take 5 minutes with your coworkers you don’t know that well to honor a dead hummingbird’s soul and it can remind you that anything and everything can lift you into another realm, at any time of the day.
Anywhere in the world, really. With anyone.
And I guess so begins my soul path on this life journey where I am detached from desire, knowing without a doubt that my intuition will carry me everywhere I go next…meeting the right people, experiencing the right experiences, and you know…doing what I came here to do. To be continued.
And yes, I will be giving henrietta a proper burial.
