Wild heart, Wild Woman
Under a cerulean spring sky, clear and bright, I held a conversation with a raven on my walk this morning. The male koel starts his distinctive, loud and far carrying call at 4:30am these days, “come to me female, I have the most wonderful mulberry tree to entice you with, come to me, come to me”. There is a currawong crying in the background as I write - it is likely her nest that the female koel will cuckoo her own eggs. The baby magpie out in the front yard is shadowing her mum, peeping that pleading “give-me-give-me-give-me-what-are-you-doing-now-give-me” tune that is redolent of an Australian spring. I am surrounded by the most amazing creatures, even here in a densely populated suburban area, but it is those black-of-wing to which my wild heart is most enamoured. The world is all around us, we are in it, not aside from or apart from or other than. We breathe the same air, these midnight feathered beauties and I.
I want to close my own eyes and see through theirs, even if just for a moment. How do they see me? How do they see their fellow feathered kin? How do they see the land to which they, like us, are inextricably linked? The tree I planted as tube stock that I hag now, hands no longer reaching around her trunk - how do they see her, from way up there, feet wrapped around sturdy branches?
I think we knew that once. Or more of it. I think there are still a few of us whose hearts are still wild enough, who are close enough to their place, their land, that can see through the eyes of the creatures around them. Without romance or human morality, but with honesty and recognition, with connection and reciprocity, authentic wisdom and surrender to balance.
It is from this place that {wild+woman} comes. My own yearning. Perhaps a cellular memory. The deep desire to reconnect in that way. To see across time, through generations of wild kin, to know even just one of our kin so intimately that they are a part of us, our wild hearts intertwined. I know you feel that too, I see you, I see how your own wild heart yearns.
