It was snowing lightly in Seattle this morning when I awoke from a dream of a fox. She was small, silver-blue, with big, chocolatey brown eyes. I don’t remember how she came to be with me, but I do remember that she was something like a pet. Maybe a familiar.
Everyone I knew told me to get rid of the fox. That she wouldn’t get along with my dogs, or that she would clash with my environment. She even made a mess in the house a few times… but, much like Gizmo, “Foxy” was incredibly attached to me and cried when I left her sight. And, much like Moody, she was very protective of me, growling and snarling whenever danger was present. I don’t remember the length of this dream, but I do remember feeling her presence for a long time, over the span of months or years, the same way I do with both of my dogs. She was warm, soft, protective, and safe.
As far back as I can remember, my dreams have always been intense and prophetic, sometimes seeming to go on for days or weeks on end. It scared me a great deal as a child, and I developed insomnia and a fear of the dark that lasted until I was well into my teens. Even today, my dreams can be so blissful and ethereal, I’ll sleep well into the afternoon because I don’t want to leave them. They can be so mundane, I have trouble distinguishing them from reality. And then there are the nightmares. But… *we don’t talk about those.*
This dream, however, was different. It almost felt like a part of the future that was yet to come. Or a memory of something that had actually happened. So I decided to do a little sleuthing online. According to dreammoods.com:
“To see a fox in your dream represents insight, cleverness, cunningness and resourcefulness. Perhaps the dream is telling you that you need to exhibit more of these qualities in your waking life. Or that you need to conceal your thoughts and be more discrete about some situation. The fox may also symbolize someone in your waking life who is sly and sneaky. Alternatively, seeing a fox in your dream indicates a period of isolation or loneliness. You need to take this time to ponder some issue or reflect upon your life.” (cont.)
I’ll get back to my interpretation of this, because once I woke, something notable happened.
My morning routine usually goes like this: I get up, dress in some casual comfy clothes, and walk my dogs to our local coffee shop. Then, I usually take them to one of two “green spaces” in our neighborhood- our sweet Belltown Community Garden (lovingly maintained by our neighbors and, surprisingly, occupied by an urban rabbit colony! Cute!), or the majestic Olympic Sculpture Park.
Today we opted for the Sculpture Park. This has become a special place to me for a few reasons: the massive outdoor sculptures (curated by the Seattle Art Museum), the unobstructed view of Puget Sound and Olympic Mountain Range, and the walking trails, pebble beaches, and wild, moor-like greenery that border the manicured lawns at the top of the park. It is something of a miracle that this place can exist in Downtown Seattle, just blocks from the world-famous Space Needle, among all the grey parking lots and silver skyscrapers. The juxtaposition makes it all the more awe-inspiring- sacred, even.
But today was particularly miraculous. The sun peeked out among the clouds and made the snow sparkle, illuminating everything in a gentle winter glow, and its beams danced among the waves, making them glitter and shine. It was near-empty because of the cold, but a few other dog walkers dotted the trail in the distance. Unfortunately because Gizmo is so small, and it was so cold, he wasn’t into walking far, and I opted to take a shorter trail which led us back out of the park. As I looked into the distance and admired the view, something caught my eye- the striped tail of a bird of prey. It was small, so at first I thought it might be a Kestrel or Peregrine Falcon, which are known to roost in the skyscrapers nearby. But after doing some research, the bird turned out to be a Cooper’s Hawk. I see these (and Red-Tailed Hawks) often on my treks back to Eastern Washington, but this hawk was different. It perched on a tree directly in front of me, and instead of flying away when it noticed me staring, it looked me directly in the eye. Entranced by this magnificent creature, and grateful for its attention, I stood perfectly still for what felt like minutes on end.
When I got home, I again scoured the internet for information on the spiritual significance of the Hawk, and found this to be my favorite description of its power.
Ina Woolcott of shamanicjourney.com writes:
“The hawk’s gifts include clear sightedness, being observant, long distance memory, messages from the universe, guardianship, recalling past lives, courage, wisdom, illumination, seeing the bigger picture, creativity, truth, experience, wise use of opportunities, overcoming problems, magic, focus.
Hawk is associated with the number 14, with the tarot card Temperance. The Temperance card represents the teaching of higher expressions of psychic ability and vision.
The Hawk represents a messenger in the Native American culture. It often shows up in our life when we need to pay attention to the subtle messages found around us, and from those we come into contact with. As with all messages received, it is important to recognise the message’s underlying truth. We will be taught to be observant and also pay attention to what we may overlook. This could mean a talent we aren’t using, a gift or unexpected help for which we haven’t shown our gratitude for, or a message from the Universe.” (cont.)
I’ve spent today trying my best to interpret the meaning of these animal symbols as it relates to my own life. So here’s what I came up with:
I’m currently having problems in my professional life, trying to get out of a dead-end job that pays well but has completely drained me of all my health, compassion, and energy. I feel that I have no work/personal life balance, and last week, when the holiday season was finally over, I became extremely sick with a nasty cold. 10 days later, I hardly feel any better and have now developed a horrible chest cough and outer ear infection. In addition, I hadn’t taken any time off work because I got stuck covering shifts for people who appeared to be kind of sick, but not as sick as I was.
I lived most of my late teens and twenties in extreme poverty, jumping from job to job in the service industry, until I landed at my current bartending position two years ago. I work at a busy club in the heart of Seattle’s Capitol Hill neighborhood, and am currently making more money than I have ever made in my life. It feels good to be financially stable. It feels good to know I can take care of myself without asking anyone for help. But nowadays, each shift I work drains me more and more… until I feel like a shell of myself. I’m sick of babysitting drunk idiots. I’m sick of alcohol in general. I’m sick of not having time for the things that truly matter to me in life: craft, movement, magic, music, creativity, connection. I realize that I am just as smart and capable as many of the people I know who have more lucrative and less time-consuming jobs. Worst of all, I feel like I have no relationship or connection to my friends and family (whom I love dearly and cherish deeply).
Over the past few days of being so sick, I’ve had to really look inward and analyze where I’m at in my life. I realized long ago that while I enjoy the financial freedom I now have, I don’t see myself doing the same thing a year from now. At the same time, I hate answering to authority and have had a strong desire to work for myself, from home, and create my own schedule for several years now.
….But how??
I think the fox was a warning- in more than one way. The discouragement of the people in my dream, despite the warmth and happiness “Foxy” brought me, seems to be a signal to take others’ opinions with a grain of salt, because they are not me, and they don’t understand where I’m at in life. The difficulties I had in training and raising the fox, are a sign of the obstacles to come if I follow my own path. I will, undoubtedly, feel loneliness and uncertainty. I will have to make sacrifices. But her love, soft fur, and he feeling of warmth and joy I received from her, tell me that slowly making the transition into self-employment is ultimately the right decision for me.
Then, there’s the hawk. It indicates both a bigger, and more specific picture in the grand scheme of my life. What I do now is very concrete and small-impact. And really- my job itself has nothing to do with me. The Hawk indicates that I am destined for something on a bigger scale than what I’m doing now, and that I have talents that are currently being unused. As a life-long writer and musician, this rang especially true for me.
So I formulated a plan. A plan with a concrete timeline, concrete milestones, and a concrete goal. It’s a new year, and a new decade- so why not?
These animals have gifted me with the message that I’m ready to take control of my destiny. I’m ready to take the first steps, however shaky and unsure they may be. I have all the tools I need to succeed.
Now all I have to do is begin.
Norse Western 