When I was first starting out as a medium, I had this span of time where I saw dead birds pretty often. At first, I would flinch at the sight — which eventually made me realize that there was a fear of physical death in me.
One quiet winter morning, I was walking in Central Park and slowly eased into a trance-like state, a place where everything is somehow blurrier and clearer at the same time. All of the sudden I looked down, and there it was again — a dead bird, for what felt like the millionth time. This time, I finally got the experiential message my guides needed me to feel:
Physical death is just that. It’s the death of our physical body.
Our soul, and our connection to spirit, is eternal. In essence, we can never really die. I knew this logically, but I had to have these experiences in order to really internalize this deep truth.
Even more, despite the cultural underpinnings of death, death is something to be celebrated. It is a sacred part of our incarnation into the physical. It’s the culmination of everything we have learned — and it’s symbolic of us becoming MORE. It’s the markings of our return home, into a fuller life because we are taking everything we have learned here.
Death is a becoming, a rebirth into a new “form.”
It’s life reimagined.
In that moment, in the cold, dewy morning in New York City, I was overcome with joy as I imagined where or what this lifeless bird had become.
I walked further along the winding path, and stumbled upon a crowd of people holding up their phones. As I got closer, I saw what everyone was staring at and photographing: a majestic bald eagle, perched high in a tree. As it spread its glorious wings, I knew, in that moment, that it was a sign from my guides, that yes, I had uprooted and upended a belief that was holding me back.
I was now free to fly.