Winged Hope: Birds as Bridges to the Beyond

A Childhood for the Birds

We used to call my Dad eagle eyes. He had 20/20 vision and a preternatural ability to detect and identify a bird high in the branches of a tree across the yard. To call him a bird-watching hobbyist and amateur ornithologist would be an understatement.

One summer when I was 9 years old, my father and I sat in the heat of summer on our back deck, butts glued to webbed aluminum chairs pushed against the side of the house, silently watching birds come to the platform feeder at the far edge of the deck. We did this day after day. We cared not about whether inching our chairs forward each week was right or wrong, for it was the 80s and:

We.

Had.

A.

Plan.

Hand feed the birds by the end of summer.

It worked. Our slow and deliberate creeping—first closer to the feeder, then right next to the feeder, then sitting at the edge of the feeder, then our hand placed on feeder, then birdseed placed on our hands—yielded chickadees, tufted titmice, and nuthatches in abundance, each gently taking the seed we offered. My Dad was even so bold as to offer a sunflower seed between his teeth, which the birds not only took, but decided to take as a sign to meet bold with bold; they dive bombed him for seed every time he went out to chop wood. Soon after, I was asked by the 4th grade teacher (who I now know I had the loveliest soul contract with) to speak to her class that Fall about this backyard experience…as an underclassman 3rd grader. Can you believe it? Pow, little Sarah’s mind blown.

It's no wonder I’ve always loved birds. They are guides, a source of peace, a reminder of home, a testament to a teacher that really saw me for who I was, and a reminder of my father’s infinite patience and love for me. I’ve often wondered if my Dad set in motion my love of birds so I’d attune to them later in life. He passed when I was 12 years old.

When Loved One’s Spirits Embody Feathered Friends

I’ve had a close friend since I was a student in that 4th grade classroom. From the time we were in kindergarten, my Dad said he thought I’d be great friends with her. I never thought to question why I accepted as a given she and I would be friends as soon as we were in the same class. Driven by pleasant small talk amongst parents? Her being nice on the playground when my Mom was a recess aide? Any explanation could be true, but I now know it was deeper; a father’s preternatural ability once again, knowing I would need a friend in the future with infinite embodied wisdom and connection to the natural world. He called her…the Big N.

I visited the Big N in California in my early 20s and we hiked a bit, her natural outdoorsy-ness a welcome change to my then city lifestyle. Stopping to sit in the woods during a hike, peaceful with the gurgling of melting snow in nearby water, she said:

“Moments like these remind me of your Dad.”

When you live with childhood trauma like the death of a parent, the sorrow runs close to the surface. A typical reaction for me would have been to feel immediate welling of tears. Not so at that moment. My own eagle eyes leapt to life, no tears came, and I noticed a large, quiet blue jay in a nearby tree.

This was the first time I felt a loved one through a bird.

I felt my father’s presence.

Clear.

Strong.

Patient.

Wise.

It was not the last time.

My love of birds naturally morphed into liking bird art, mugs, jewelry, images on my messenger bag. Give me a choice of imagery and I ALWAYS pick the bird. Years passed and birds weren’t around as much in my city life, but I kept their imagery close, as if in my blood.

Around the time of my wedding, I naturally missed my Dad more heavily. Big life events do that with hidden sorrow you haven’t addressed. A magical September day in Connecticut, beautiful and sunny, followed by thunderous clouds and a downpour just as our outdoor receiving line was ending. Everyone rushed inside and the clouds parted and cleared. A few people that didn’t know him well said it was my father, approving of our wedding and making his presence known. HA! Nope, I knew that wasn’t true. A patient wisdom keeper soul making his presence known with thunder? Not his style by a long shot. I smiled politely and thought to myself…it would be nice though, to receive a sign of his presence.

I think you know what came next.

The following morning, in my one moment of aloneness setting up for brunch outside, a bird swooped and landed in the bracken crazy close to me. Looking intently.

Quiet.

Still.

Staring.

Presence.

Love. Love. Love. My Dad, again.

Birds are Bridges between us and Spheres of Beyond

I’d love to tell you I continued to spy birds during important moments over the following decade plus. While my backyard and roadside bird watching did increase after my move out of the city, the fact is no bird drama beyond chimney swifts nesting in the chimney happened for a long while. In fact, if I wasn’t already a convert about birds being bridges to something deeper, I might have missed the next time a passed loved one embodied a bird.

I’ve worked with an energy healer (biofield tuner) for years; her studio is surrounded by trees and a stretch of meadow. When there, the birds show up in droves. Not a session goes by where she doesn’t comment on seeing a gazillion more birds in the hours before I arrive. It’s always been that way; they know I’m coming. Cool for sure, but for a long while I never thought much of it. I should have known better.

Many cultures believe the cardinal especially is a sign of a passed loved one bringing protection, comfort, and love. The year before last, a bright ‘lil cardinal kept showing up near the windows, right at the time these energy sessions got…more interesting. Instead of easing into my energy, my practitioner was getting a huge push out—super weird and we kind of ignored it a few times until the birds in my blood awakened and I turned my curiosity toward instead of away from it. I said: “Maybe it’s got a message for us; maybe there is a reason it keeps coming back. Let’s wonder.” Yep. That cardinal was the presence of my grandmother, Nana, who passed away when I was 21. Of course she chose the avenue of engaging with me that she knew I would 110% believe, a bird.

By welcoming in her energy, she became a loving guide. I had a few sessions with that practitioner where we simply opened to her energy and that of other passed loved ones. It was exactly what I didn’t know I needed at the time—palpable love beyond words. Not to mention, the number of times I saw cardinals in my backyard increased by leaps and bounds and three new varieties of birds moved into my backyard that had NEVER been there before. Those moments in childhood and earlier adulthood catalyzed the foundation of trust for what was to come. My energy healer and I both learned to recognize my Nana’s energy signature, so when my most important life message came a few months later, I felt its truth without a shadow of a doubt. Clear and life-changing: Nana says ‘Tell Sarah she is a lightworker’.

Spine shivers. Tears of knowing, both then and now as I scribe those words of divine truth, which I would not have recognized without birds as connectors to spheres of the beyond. It was the message I needed to take the leaps of faith necessary to become a full-time coach and energy worker, which I’d felt the tugs of for a long time. It unwrapped the most important piece of my identity I didn’t know was lost…all because I paid close attention to a little bird. I may not have eagle eyes like my Dad, but now I have 20/20 spiritual bird vision.

Ravens, eagles, owls, and many types of birds are ALL over the mythical and symbolic world as meaning makers—unpacking ‘what bird means what’ is not my specialty. I believe it is not nearly as important as intuitively feeling into what birds are trying to tell you. When a bird visits you, get curious. When you feel knowingness when a bird is near, trust it IS a message that is uniquely yours.

Here is an Invocation I channeled from the Akashic Records (that’s the library of energy and information of everyone’s soul) for calling in birds as signs + tuning into your heart. It will allow deepening and trust in your heart-knowing for when you encounter a bird or another symbol that comes from the beyond.

Divine Universe,

I call upon the eagle of highness, to fly in my direction, to see through shining whiteness

The moment of exactitude with which to time the dropping of your feathers in my path.

Allow my high heart, across space and time, from past and future

To this present moment, to allow

More light in with grace and knowing.

I release the guardian walls around my heart

Which serve not to harmonize, but to shield me from waves of past hurt.

Please dismantle the wall around my heart and recycle it for everyone’s highest good

So I may find more love.

Please anchor more love in my heart and allow my heart to receive

Knowledge for the fullness of my soul and all those who

Wish to shine love and brightness in proximity and harmony to it.

All you need to know what a bird means to you when you encounter one is an open heart.

Sowing the Seeds of Healing

I was having breakfast with some friends the other day and the topic of birds and presence of loved ones arose. It came up naturally. Heads nodded. Deep agreement. These beautiful friends were some I’d not talked with about spirituality before. As I’ve raised my consciousness the last few years, I’ve shed most of my old, programmed skepticism, but I’ve learned to respectfully feel out where others are on their own journey (or not) with the unseen before I tread too heavily into sharing perspectives that may or may not be shared. Everyone travels a path of spiritual beliefs (or not) at the pace that is right for them. But ohhh how my heart soared when everyone vibed so quickly about the unseen belief that is close to my heart, presence in birds. I took it as a poignant reminder that it’s a universal experience so many of us have.

Maybe we’ve learned to keep our beliefs of the unseen too close to the vest. Maybe the next time a friend or family member talks about the death of a loved one, we can choose not to shy away from the conversation with half platitudes for fear of discomfort.

Let’s leap in and ask: What was their name?

And better still: How do you still feel their presence in your life now?

The penultimate: Have you ever felt their presence in a bird?

When we connect with each other and share, with depth and truth, about passed loved ones, we feed hope for the healing of their and our soul’s held grief in this life. Hope isn’t passive. If we anchor it into our hearts, it isn’t something that can be lost. I think of hope as a muscle; the more we hold hope for healing grief or whatever shift we want to see in the world, the more hope vibrates in a way that can be felt by those around us.

Meaning making from symbols in nature IS possible and attainable for all of us if we tune in. We need to remember that symbols like birds ARE a path to holding fast to hope; they allow our minds a tangible connection to the remembrance of the heart vibration of hope.

The day I wrote this blog, the first thing I noticed when stepping outside for the day was beautiful, loud chirping. Coincidence? Of course not.

May the station on your symbology TV channel be clear and give you hope this year.

Mine is always on Bird TV.

Tips for Bringing Birds into Your Life

1. If you can, choose and plant bird friendly perennials like liatris, echinacea, or wild elderberry. A quick search on birds + native plants will yield a plethora of preplanned gardens and ideas for considering our feathered friends in your landscape.

2. Add a water source in your yard; rather than wrestling a concrete plinth style, I purchased a $12 small hanging bird bath and chain at the hardware store and hung it up in my fave backyard tree, right at eye level to my hammock. Keep the water fresh and watch Bird TV.

3. Feeling curious about who is singing to you? The Cornell Ornithology Lab has a great free App called Merlin; it records and identifies all the birdsong around you. My surprise? It’s a pileated woodpecker making all that racket!

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Sarah Stray, Boxless Coaching

BIO:

Sarah Stray is an intuitive guide, lightworker, coach, and Akashic Record Healer, filtering her gifts into the world as the owner of Boxless Coaching. After a 20+ career in not-for-profit strategy that led to burn out, she re-aligned her life because her soul craved something deeper. She is living proof that it is okay to follow the tug of your heart, even if the only place you know it is leading you is vastly different than where you are.

Now, she guides others through their own unboxing—helping self-curious people to clear whatever has been holding them back—past conditioning, deep-rooted patterns, ancestral burdens, hidden energy blocks, and more, so they can create a life that feels more like them.

Sarah is a certified master facilitator and is trained with the Akashic School of Knowing. She lives on the New Hampshire seacoast, where she runs a roadside flower stand in the summer, is a mother of multiples, bibliophile, and is a forever backyard bird watcher. You can find her on Instagram @boxlesscoaching and her current offers on Boxless.cohere.live. She’d love to hear your story of loved ones + birds.