There was a chapter in my life where death knocked hard at my door.
The veil between worlds grew thin, and I first noticed a vulture was standing beside me. As my awareness deepened, others appeared, a jaguar before me and a deer to my right.
The vulture’s unyielding presence stood as a sentinel, unmoving, its black cloak of feathers embodying the stillness of truth. It stayed steadfast, anchoring me in the inevitability of death, not as an adversary, but as a profound teacher. Its constancy demanded that I neither resist nor evade but simply face the reality before me.
Yet, the jaguar was in motion—a blur of power and purpose, leaping forward just ahead. Its movements were a reminder of what was possible, of strength that emerges not from struggle but from alignment with one's inner force. The jaguar seemed to carry me forward with it, urging a leap into life itself with clarity and courage.
On my right, the deer moved with delicate grace, stepping gently, almost as if weaving a path around me. It carried an energy of softness and vulnerability, an invitation to embrace beauty in the quiet, tender steps. The deer spoke not of haste but of reverence, showing that there was no need to fight, no battle to win—only a way to embody gentleness amidst transformation.
Together, they mirrored different facets of being. The vulture, steadfast in truth. The jaguar, bold in possibility. The deer, tender in its beauty. They guided me not to act, but to simply be—fully present, fully alive, and unafraid of the thin veil between worlds they so seamlessly navigated. In their presence, I found not just guidance, but a reflection of the sacred harmony I was being called to embody.