Is it odd that I remember the first time I touched a feather? I was a kid at the zoo and we had stopped at one of those little kiosks that had souvenirs. The woman working the kiosk handed me a feather and she showed me how each of the little barbs stuck together, like a million tiny little zippers. I stood there pulling the feather apart and putting it back together, watching all the little barbs and hooks tie into each other. Maybe I was just easily entertained but it felt more like I had just been given the secret to the entire universe. I thought about how light and soft the feather in my hand felt and how this simple arrangement of nature made such a strong structure even so. Light and Strong. That sounds about right.
It's easy to make the connection between a feather and freedom, the idea of flying being at the for front of your mind. Feathered creatures have the power to ascend and descend gracefully without any limitations of gravity. Power, grace and no limitations. Who could not be drawn to such a creature? The flight of feathers reminds me once more of God's Presence, a humbling reminder, which leaves me feeling grateful.
For a long time, probably for as long as time has existed, feathers have been celestial symbols for many different peoples. To Native Americans, feathers also symbolized power, wisdom, strength, trust and much more. Feathers were given as a sign of respect to those who had achieved great accomplishments. Often those of bravery, like conquering an enemy at war or returning home from a hunt with food. These feathers were to be displayed proudly, either hung up in a home or worn by it's owner. And they must be handled with great care, serving as a reminder of how one should behave on a daily basis.
I think it's safe to say I've earned my feathers.
<3,
MacK
