The Golden Eagle and the Crash

Have you had dreams that are connected to the future? This story is about two times that I did. 

The first dream happened in the wee hours of October 6, 2020. It was a short segment but very clear and memorable. A large golden eagle, almost as tall as I, its head and torso as big as a man, stood three feet in front of me and we conversed. I don’t remember the conversation but I thought the eagle was perhaps an ally. I was reading about shamanism at the time.

The second dream happened about ten months later: in an instant my torso slammed into a hard unyielding surface. I felt the impact! It was violent, like I got into a high-speed car accident. I was especially concerned because the dream came the night before Sarah and I began a 9-day vacation to Oregon. Driving north on Interstate 5, I was being very cautious. We drove past a fatal accident just beyond Santa Clarita and were delayed 30 minutes by a second fatal crash on a two-lane road outside Sonoma. I thought, maybe we dodged this car-crash bullet. 

We arrived in Ukiah, California that evening, checked into a hotel and then drove to a local Mexican restaurant. It was August 14, 2021. After dinner, we walked past our car to take a little walk. A block away we were drawn to a mural painted on a long building wall. There, at the far end was Lauren Sinnott painting her history of Ukiah. We met her at a special time and day. She was meeting a local Pomo elder/medicine man whose likeness would fill her last scene as one who is blessing the town’s past, present and future.

We met the medicine man and shared a little about ourselves. We told him we were on our way to Oregon to look for a place to live since our church imploded after abuses were exposed. He shared some of his childhood history and the prejudices against indians growing up in Ukiah. He also told us about Jim Jones, the cult leader who moved his congregation to Ukiah in 1964 and who tried to evangelize minorities, including young indians. Our story teller was warned by the tribal elders to stay away from those people. Then our new friend said something very helpful, “When people hurt me or do me wrong I always say, thank you, in my heart. Thank you for showing me how I never want to treat another human being.” He had an aura of forgiveness about him. He wasn’t just speaking platitudes, he was living them.

Then he asked if he could do a clearing for Sarah and I. We agreed. He went to his car, put on a ceremonial shirt and grabbed a large wing of golden-eagle feathers. He prayed and waved his eagle wing around Sarah’s head and shoulders, lifting pain and heaviness from her. Then he did the same for me. I realized, this is the eagle that visited me in my dream. An eagle the size of a man who could talk.  

We got home from our vacation on Sunday the 22nd without any accidents. We had dodged the bullet. . . or so I thought. 

Six days after we got home I went for a bike ride on one of my favorite dirt roads in the Santa Monica Mountains. I’ve done this ride forty times or more but this time I didn’t feel quite right. I was a little weak and lightheaded. Riding back down the road, a half mile from the car, I came to a fifty yard section of sand. I didn’t slow down and was riding near the edge of the road where the sand was not as deep. Still, a deep patch forced my front wheel to the right and my wheel went off the road into a deep hole. I was catapulted over the handlebars and slammed into the hard berm of the road. The wind was knocked out of me so violently it tore a small hole in my lungs. I stood up for a moment, bent over at the waist, and breathed in a deep, long guttural cry and then collapsed back onto the dirt. I couldn’t move because of the pain. After a few minutes a runner stopped to help me. Riders and hikers stopped out of curiosity and concern. A passing truck driver called 911. Paramedics arrived, administered painkillers, picked me up, and took me to Kaiser emergency. I cracked 7 ribs on the left side and damaged the cartilage on another. I didn’t dodge that bullet after all. The impact felt just like the crash in my dream! 

My Comments

• After my bike crash someone asked me, “Why do you think it happened?” What I heard was, “Do you think God was punishing you?” My answer was defensive and quick, “I’m an athlete. Athletes get injured.” 
• After that I had time to think about it more. For one thing, it was a time in my riding evolution when I was pushing my limits to increase my downhill speed. I was proud that a 70-year-old could ride faster than younger men. Sand has a message for us, “slow down.” Anyone who has walked or run in deep sand knows this. I went fast, imposing my will against the sand. It did not yield. Sometimes pride comes before a fall.
• According to Hebrew myth, Adam lost a rib to Eve. Out of the man, came a woman. Someone I love suggested that breaking my ribs was giving birth to the feminine energy within me. 
• A healer I respect said, “Your ribs protect your heart. Breaking your ribs makes you more vulnerable (in a good way). She asked, “What kind of a man do you want to be?” She also said the ribs are associated with fathers. Your relationship with the Father is changing. God is reorienting you to a new relationship and image of Himself as One who is unconditionally loving and accepting of you.
• Since God turns all things to good, these are the good things I want to come out of broken ribs: humility, vulnerability, and a kinder, more loving heart. Yes, that is the kind of man I want to be.