Rain, shine, or snow, my morning routine includes a walk with my dogs. They require it, and until this became a part of my life, I did not realize how much I needed it too. It is as much a reprieve as it is a routine. Away from the concrete jungle, amidst the trees, I find it meditative to breathe deeply, feel the warmth or the chill in the air, and notice the leaves change with the seasons.
We are fortunate to live in an area with many nature trails. Some even feature creeks gushing with water. We have our favorites and ones that are convenient. All of them are bustling with magical wildlife and remind me of storybooks I read growing up. I'm thinking of Enid Blyton's The Enchanted Wood series. I often see foxes, skunks, raccoons, chipmunks, squirrels, and coyotes. I spot blue jays, mourning doves, robins, chickadees, and cardinals. In our neighborhood, we also have a number of wild hawks. I spot them now and then, always sitting up high in the trees or on the tall light posts. Forever in awe of the many creatures that call this area home, I enjoy encountering them on our walks—keeping a particularly safe distance from the coyotes and skunks (both Maverick and Merlin have been sprayed by skunks; it is decidedly not a fun experience).
A few days ago, on our regular morning walk, we entered one of the trails through an entrance hidden between a couple of homes in a cul-de-sac. One of my dogs, Maverick Angel (a 4-year-old German Shepherd), seemed to have spotted something a few feet into the trail. He looked alert and stopped next to a fallen tree. Upon looking closer, I spotted what had caught Maverick's interest. It was a hawk! I moved closer to see her. She seemed to be in distress.
I had never encountered a wild hawk before. Wanting to be careful, and to keep spirited Maverick away from her, I decided to continue on our walk with the intention of checking in on the hawk on our way back, half hoping she would have flown off by then.
When I saw her in the same place on our way back, I knew she needed help.
I walked the dogs home and settled them while making a call to the city animal services department. They were quick to respond and dispatched an officer to the location.
Anticipating animal services' arrival, I walked back to the trail. At this point, the hawk had moved positions. She was lying on her back with her belly exposed. I wondered if it was a defensive posture or one of giving up. I was not too sure. She was majestic even though she was clearly vulnerable. Her eyes were alert, and her talons were sharp.
I looked up a wildlife rescue website for instructions on how to handle an injured hawk safely while awaiting assistance. It called for a towel and a box. I enlisted one of my neighbors to help gently move the hawk into a box.
Without protest, yet with her alert eyes, the hawk allowed us to move her into the box. Mike, my neighbor, remarked that she was surprisingly light.
We walked out of the trail and spent the next half-hour waiting with our hawk friend for animal services. She allowed us to pet her, and after 20 minutes of rest, she sat up, looking alert.
While waiting for animal services, I recalled having read that the hawk holds symbolic meaning across numerous traditions and cultures from history to the present day. Their majestic flight, keen eyesight, and predatory prowess have inspired awe and reverence, translating into rich symbolism that transcends geographical and cultural boundaries.
In Native American traditions, hawks are viewed as spiritual messengers, bridging the gap between the physical and spiritual realms. They symbolize wisdom, protection, and courage. For instance, in some indigenous traditions like those of the Hopi, Shawnee, Arapaho, and Cheyenne, hawks play significant roles in creation stories and spiritual practices.
Ancient Egyptians associated hawks with powerful deities like Ra, the sun god, and Horus, the sky god, emphasizing the bird's connection to divine power and cosmic order.
In Greek mythology, hawks are linked to Apollo, the god of prophecy and transformation.
Celtic lore sees hawks as noble spirit messengers, believed to herald significant events.
In Islamic tradition, hawks symbolize heroism and virtue, with the desert hawk associated with the Prophet Muhammad.
Hindu traditions consider the hawk a divine messenger, linked to Agni, the god of fire.
In Buddhism, the hawk represents keen perception and clarity of vision, aligning with the path to enlightenment.
In modern spiritual interpretations, hawks often symbolize spiritual awareness, intuition, adaptability, and the ability to see life from a higher perspective.
As I sat with the injured hawk, I felt a profound connection to all wisdom traditions and the timeless symbolism this creature represented. I opened myself to the hawk's message, and it unfolded as a lesson in "Extraordinary Compassion," something I had recently spoken about and have written extensively about in my upcoming book.
You see, when I first spotted the injured hawk, my immediate response was not to question how she had gotten hurt. It really did not matter! I had no judgments against her predicament. Instead, I felt an instinctive surge of compassion and a desire to help.
In contrast, I realized that in life, when we or others stumble, we're quick to assign blame or pass judgment. We ask questions like, "How did you manage to get yourself in this mess or situation?" or harsher judgments like, "That was stupid," "You are so weak!" or worse, "You deserve it!"
Respected for her sharp vision, admired for her intelligence, and revered as an apex predator, yet here she was—vulnerable and in need of help. Struck by how this parallels our human experience, I realized that finding ourselves in a vulnerable state does not diminish the truth of all that we are. No matter how strong or capable we may be, we all have moments of vulnerability, and compassion is our only medicine.
This is certainly a general theme for humanity, but it hit very close to home in my life at present. Since my dad passed away in August 2022, I have felt like an injured hawk myself. While I had much respect for the hawk and who she was, I have harbored self-judgment for my grief and tender heart. Well-meaning loved ones have expressed concern and surprise over my process of metabolizing the loss. I realized how easy it is to forget who we are and our vulnerability as living beings. My friend, the hawk, reminded me of the importance of extending kindness and understanding—both to ourselves and to others, especially when we are in pain, when we have gotten hurt, or fallen down.
Eventually, the city animal services team picked up our hawk friend. They shared that she would be taken to a wildlife rescue and rehab center for treatment. When injured hawks heal, they are released back to where they were found. I held on to the idea of her possible return.
A few days later, I learned that despite our efforts, the hawk had passed away overnight while awaiting transfer to a wildlife rescue. This sad news brought with it another poignant lesson—one of acceptance and the fleeting nature of life.
We often pour our hearts into efforts, with strong attachments and desires for specific outcomes. However, life, in its infinite wisdom, may have other plans. The hawk's passing reminded me that while we must always strive to help and do our best, we must also find peaceful acceptance for outcomes beyond our control.
I was fortunate to care for my dad through his illness leading up to his passing. Since his passing, acceptance has been a long road to travel, with many detours on the path—shock, panic, regret, despair, self-blame, anger, deep sorrow, fixation on what I could have done better, what others ought to have done differently. Feeling abandoned and absolutely gutted to be in this world without him, wishing for a different reality. While the intellectual understanding of "acceptance" never eluded me, I often witnessed my mind narrate stories reflecting the inner resistance of the child inside me.
My friend, the hawk, left me with undeniable reminders:
We are all born, and we all die.
We are all magnificent, and yet sometimes, we may fall and hurt ourselves. When this happens, "extraordinary compassion" is our medicine. It helps us:
Remember who we are and resist the urge to shrink and limit our identities to the tough experiences of life.
Respect and love ourselves. Take care of ourselves. Give ourselves the best chance to heal and recover.
Remember that others are human too, so we may resist the urge to judge them.
Inspire us to help and support people if we are in the position to do so.
If we are fortunate to have love in our lives, we will inevitably experience loss because life is transient. Some chapters of our lives are fulsome and may feel boring or exhausting. Others are painfully short, yet contain within them wisdom and joy for the ages. While this circle of life is undeniable, how the events of life unfold remains a mystery until it is revealed. The best choice we can make is to be present, live fully, love deeply, and practice "extraordinary compassion."
When the tides of life shift, it is wise to recognize and accept the change. It is far more effective to adjust our sails than to burn our precious energy fighting against life's flow. We can do this lovingly, respecting the process of our inner child.
As I reflect on my experience, I'm filled with gratitude for the brief moment I shared with this majestic creature. Though her physical journey has ended, the wisdom she imparted lives on—a testament to the interconnectedness of all living beings and the profound lessons nature can teach us if we're open to listening.
I am even more grateful for the 38 years of life I shared with my dad. Rest in peace, my dearest daddy. I miss you. You are loved, appreciated, and honored. Thank you for the gift of your love. I will meet you in my dreams and find you in the stars.
Rest in peace, dear hawk friend, and thank you for your gift of connection and natural wisdom.
May we all live in compassion, remembering who we are as human beings. May this compassion bring us to honor life in every form. May it allow us to transcend divisive polarity that deceives us into questioning our own worth or competing with others to prove our superiority.
May we all live in acceptance, never resisting life while we are alive, and never fighting the endings that are inevitable.
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