Coyote, in Native American symbolism, superficially represents "trickster" or "joker" energy. People sometimes see it as a negative, especially in a card reading or when a coyote enters their consciousness, as happened to me last night. But as I meditated on it in the context of this extraordinary year, I realized that there may be a deeper message than to watch out for people playing tricks on us.
Perhaps it is a reminder that things may not always be what they seem, in a positive sense. Truth may be coming to us round the edges, in that gut feeling, or that wild singing in the night, or from the mouths of babes or animals. The truth may come to us in a playful, teasing moment, or when we do what seems like a small gesture and it turns out to mean mountains to someone else. If I turn off the TV or online chatter for a few days, what sounds do I start hearing, and what do they mean?
For those of you who might have discovered this blog through my writing about choral evensong, you might be wondering, as do I almost every day, what is the overlap between the howl of a North American coyote and the precise, stylized singing of the Magnificat in an English cathedral? What is the overlap between a life largely lived in the American wilderness and a soul at home in a cathedral choir stall? Welcome to the Liz path, where such things walk the road together, not quite holding hands, yet usually at least touching fingers tentatively and curiously. The best I can come up with is that both sounds constitute life celebrating life. May I find the opportunity to sing or howl wholeheartedly today!
