I rarely use my front door as I have a garage. But today, in the midst of putting things away from my car after being out of town for 3 days, I noticed my basil plant looking wilted. It wasn’t the time I’d normally water, yet something nudged me to step out onto the porch. That’s when I saw her — the dove.
She lay still, as if she had fallen straight from the sky into this moment, into my path. There were no signs of struggle, no disturbance, just the quiet, final curve of her wings. She had flown straight into the glass, unable to see what was real from what was reflection. And I could tell it had just happened…It was new.
It felt like a message meant to stop me in my tracks.
Not to shock, but to awaken.
This weekend’s energy had already been full — a mix of celebration and emotion, boundaries and tenderness. My cards today, Mother & Child and Curiosity, seemed to echo everything: the tender, complex dance between connection and independence; the openness required to explore what comes next without clinging to what has been.
The dove’s sudden passing felt connected to that — the instant where a path ends, not from malice, but from a truth unseen. How often do we, too, fly toward what we believe is an opening, only to meet an invisible barrier?
The Lions Gate portal still hums in the air, urging release, expansion, clarity. This moment with the dove was a mirror: a reminder to discern what’s an illusion, to trust the timing of pausing before moving forward, to stay aware and open-eyed as I walk through the next thresholds in my life.
The energy of the weekend, with its layered emotions, now feels like a prelude to this message:
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Honor the bonds, but allow the flight.
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Stay curious, but see clearly.
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Step forward, but only through true openings.
Sometimes the messenger’s gift is in their presence, even in stillness. Today, that presence came with wings.
