It may be that you like me live in a Celtic land, as so many people increasingly are drawn to do. Wherever you are now, it is probable that you have lived in Scotland, or Wales, or Brittany, or Cornwall, or Ireland or the Isle of Man at some point on your long soul journey. The Celtic influence was strong too throughout much more of Europe in ancient times, and you may have been a part of it there also.
As a Celt you will know that the wren is a bird of significance to you: associated with paganism, with which you also are familiar, he is known to you as the king of birds and the gift to help you achieve your dreams. She is your inspirer, bringing you joy, hope and renewal at this time of your transition, and though often unseen he is the watcher for you and the world. The wren is like the divine, invisible but felt with a voice that carries and a power that is ineffable. She is a tiny bird of great light and spirit.
It is said to bring bad luck if you harm a wren, and I remembered this when recently I found a wren trapped in my kitchen, trying to escape; he had entered through the cat flap in his search for spiders on a cold autumn day. I caught and released him, but the next day I found the same, or another wren this time lying exhausted and shivering on the floor next to my cat, which was watching him with surprise and disapproval. I rescued him from Oliver and the house, and had the privilege of holding him as he recovered, until in time he flew away to safety.
As we are bombarded by the discombobulations of a world frantically trying to maintain some sense of security while the normal is falling apart, it is easy to be drawn into the manipulation of our emotions and our credulity that is being perpetrated by the would-be controllers. It may feel sometimes as if we are like the little wren that entered my life briefly: we are living our lives as best we can and then find ourselves in a different place, one where we do not wish to be and from which it seems hard to escape, a trap where we can see where we want to be beyond the window of life but cannot find our way there without help.
The wren survives by watching and trusting, by following her instincts and knowing that by living as wrens have done for aeons and adapting as necessary, all will be well. If she is blown off course she finds her way back home, and she is untroubled by what other birds may choose to do, knowing help is there.
As always in the world of nature, we can learn much from the wren, the little bird that has a great heart and a strong belief. If you are lucky enough to see the king of birds, remember the gifts he brings to you and, perhaps, what he teaches about the importance of watching, recognising the truth as you move forward and not being fooled by the calls to doubt and fear.
Always there is a way to escape the prison that we have created for ourselves, though sometimes we fail to see or thank our rescuer. There is no time like the present. Be the wren and watch, and see.