“Death is normal. Death is natural. But the way it happened to you was not. Nor will the life without you ever be”—Attributed to Sara Rian
Synchronicities abound throughout the twin flame journey. Yet these synchronicities are not confined to twins who are both living; they also grace the lives of those whose counterparts are in spirit, offering reassurance that the connection continues across the veil. These are usually, welcome affirmations, sources of respite and comfort as well as confirmation that we are not crazy and just imagining that we share a soul with another. Timely miracles of happenstance like a song that pipes through a PA system at an unlikely time and place. A stray feather that lands on your shoe or on your doorstep as you walk across the threshold. Repetitive images and references of a particular animal. Butterflies that wish to be near you and grace your orbit in a delightful flight of dance around your body. These and many others are joyful occurrences and are pretty much part and parcel of the twin flame connection.
In A Song For Steve: The Lion and the Rose, I wrote extensively about animal spirits on the twin flame journey, devoting a separate chapter to each animal I explored and its significance within the connection. For me, these encounters are another way of recognizing my twin’s presence and the connection we continue to share. But they do not always bring the kind of comfort we expect. Sometimes they come to address a specific spiritual and/or emotional need. I refer to these animal spirits as medicine administered in doses when a wound is ready to be healed.
Like I have always said. The twin flame journey is not all rainbows and unicorns. There are those random, unexplained synchronicities that are not always meant to provide the aforementioned. Some are meant to point out something within you that needs to be healed. And your twin is not all candy and roses. He or she is meant in this lifetime and afterward to be a teacher. Our twins are mirrors, yes. Looking at them, we recognize a shadow aspect that must be addressed, healed, transmuted, and integrated. It is the work we signed up for as twins before incarnation on Earth. These incidents can feel ominous and painful. They are often reminders too of physical separation.
This week, my twin in spirit, Steve, placed an obstacle along our shared path. It happened on a busy street in my town. I spotted a dove near the yellow lines in the middle of the road. It was unable to fly and I was helpless to do anything about it. As I drove past, I could see its face and strangely, it appeared to be looking right at me. It seemed resigned to its fate although I am sure it was scared. I know that it seems impossible that a lone, injured dove in a busy street could make eye contact with me, but I also knew this dove was a messenger from Steve.
As I drove past, I knew that the dove would most certainly meet its demise if it hadn’t already. I was driving to my granddaughter’s house to pick her up and I knew that on the way back I would find what I dreaded.
To me that dove was symbolic of Steve. It is said that doves are loyal creatures and bond for life, often grieving the other when death occurs. Grieving does exist in the avian world and often our loved ones will communicate with us through winged creatures. All I can say is that I was immensely sad and depressed as I drove the rest of the way to get my granddaughter. I waited for the lesson, the message, the download, the truth my twin was about to convey to me.
Of course, as expected, on the way back to my house, driving the same street in the opposite direction, the dove had perished. The sight of it grieved me so badly. But my twin is faithful and I am a good student (most of the time) so I set out to meditate on it, to journal about it, to ask Steve questions.
I should not have been too surprised or taken aback by this encounter because earlier that day, I came across a random image of two mourning doves: one was dead in the middle of a road while its partner, its ‘twin’ seemingly grieved over the loss of it. Interestingly, male and female mourning doves can be difficult to distinguish, a detail that, to me, echoes the symbolism of ‘twins’.
After witnessing the death of the dove on the road, I understood that I had become the mourning dove. I was the surviving witness, unable to have prevented the death of another living being. The encounter brought me face to face (again) with the guilt and regret I still carry over not being able to save my Steve from what ultimately took him.
Watching the dove face its own death, felt like watching Steve all over again. I was mourning him again, wanting to remain beside him, to keep vigil over his poor, frail body.
So what is the truth I was meant to unearth here? The lesson was not about death, but rather the experience of being the one who remains. And then this brought me to another understanding: the person who mourns often feels responsible for remembering a life that the rest of the world has already moved beyond. That is how I felt when the dove on the road died. I felt that to everyone else, it was just a bird. To me however, it was a life that mattered likely because I associated it with Steve.
Perhaps this is what I needed to understand: I could care deeply for a living creature and still be unable to save it. But my helplessness was not a failure of love. And perhaps those of us who remain need the same compassion for ourselves. (For more on this read my article Falling Off the Grief Wagon).
We can remember our beloved twins (whether separated in spirit or within the physical) without keeping vigil forever over the moment we lost them because really, we cannot ever lose them; they are within us for the long haul and into eternity. Steve’s death is part of the story I carry. So are his flaws, his silliness, his pride, his softness, his love, and his laughter. They are part of me. How can they not be? He is me and I am him. These all deserve my faithful attention.
Photo Source: Cowboy State Daily Staff. “Image of Dove Appearing to Grieve Over Death of Mate in Wyoming Goes Viral.” Cowboy State Daily, June 8, 2021. Photographs by James Yule.
