What’s in a name? Why “Four Crows in a Row”?

I have a deep love for crows.

Since as long as I can remember they have been an indicator of pure magick for me.

As the ideas for this adventure (Four Crows in a Row) have come together, my sightings of crows have increased exponentially.

Just recently, I was sitting on our back stairs, with tea in hand, stretching my mind to where I may find a name that resonated with how I felt this adventure would unfold and our resident pack of crows began circling above our house. They never actually land in our garden at all. I assume it’s all a little tight for them in our very leafy trees that are intertwined and not very welcoming. Those great black wings would just never fit.

I smiled hearing their caws. It brings me such a sense of peace and protection.

And I found myself wishing that for just once, they would come nearer. Not just circle above, or occasionally land on the vacant house next door.

I’ve longed to see their magnificence up close.

As I stared into my tea, deep in thought there was a sudden, HUGE AND LOUD “CAAAAAWWW” right above me!

I froze.

He announced himself again.

“CAAAAWWWWWWwwww w w w w   w w w w”

He was on our roof!

But I couldn’t see up there! Certainly not from where I was sitting.

Just knowing he was there, SO CLOSE was electrifying though! I was covered in goose flesh and just listened for perhaps one more caw.

A moment later there was a swooshy, slappy, crashing noise in the ficus tree that’s about 15 feet from our stairs. We had to have many of her branches trimmed in the summer to stop her damaging our roof, so her front presents as an open, green cavern, with a few big branches now.

And there he was. Right there.

About 10 feet above my head height. Slowly turning around on the branch to face me, like a wobbly, wise old man. Bending lower and turning his head to the side to take all of my tea swilling smallness in.

Crow.

High above us, his three mates circled slowly, calling out as they did.

For just a moment, we stared. A moment that lasted to forever, and just a fraction of time all at once.

One of the most profound things to ever happen to me.

That tree just isn’t shaped to take him. He just isn’t built to want to be landing there.

He was the sign I had been asking for. Since, well forever really. His form was as clearly and simply as the Universe was ever going to speak to me. He and his three.

Four Crows.

I felt the tears come. And with that, he flapped hard, made a spectacular racket in the leafy branches, and left.

Why cry about a crow though? You may ask.

So, so many reasons. But what triggered the tears at first was realizing there were four.

There is an old legend that I read when I was little about crows. I can’t remember the words exactly, but they go along these lines:

If you see just a single crow it’s considered an omen of bad luck. Seeing two crows, however, means good luck. Three crows means health, and four crows means wealth. Yet spotting five crows means sickness is coming and witnessing six crows together means death is coming.

For some context, let’s rewind.

I have spent most of my adult life pursuing stability. Which in this modern-day, usually boils down to having money. Plenty of it. And that is something that bar one or two moments in my adult life has eluded me.

I’ve worked long and hard the last few years on reframing how I see the world, society, and myself as a part of it. And just recently made the decision to let go of all I know as real, and allow myself to rebuild. The way my heart and soul see fit.

Not by societies guidelines, at all.

I’ve long held in and denied who I know I am, to make others comfortable. To fit in the neat boxes they need to be able to interact with my energy, without it overwhelming them, and making them fearful or anxious. Because in the words of Grunk from The Croods:

“New is BAD. Different is BAD”.

And so, I hid.

I dulled my shine and stayed small in the darkness I brought to my own space.

Not much grows in the dark. Bar resentment, shame, sadness and desperation, hurt and bitterness. They thrive in the blackness.

That is what we are taught.

And so that’s who I became. Hurt. Bitter. Sad. Ashamed. Resentful and desperate.

Dark.

I have functioned for the bulk of my life through that tinted lens.

But, I feared my own darkness. Feeling that only the light could ease my way. and “save me”

That is what we are taught.

LOVE AND LIGHT! It fixes EVERYTHING. We sprinkle the words about like happy confetti, imagining that it fixes everything. Because the light is GOODNESS. IT’S HOW WE ARE SAVED FROM OUR WRETCHED HUMANITY….It’s THE ONLY WAY.

Light and happiness and looooove and forced emotions, and bottling in , and insane levels of staying HAPPY for everyone but yourself. THAT’S WHAT SOCIETY NEEDS!!! (and demands)

That is what we are taught.

Truth is. We don’t just need light. We don’t just need happiness. We don’t just need to pretend emotions don’t exist to avoid getting hurt.

Platitudes fix nothing. True reality is NOTHING like we perceive it through societal filters.

Society HATES mess. Loathes it.

Real humans are MESSY AS FUCK.

We feel. We express. We grow. We expand. We change. We evolve.

And society isn’t ok with evolution. It needs everything to stay the same. “EXACTLY WHERE IT PUT IT OR SO HELP ME!!… “

A few years ago though, I felt compelled to move, within my darkness. An inner yearning to shrug off what bound me. I started to pick up anything I felt near me in the dark. I moved it. I broke it. I felt it. I grew around, over and past it. I ate it up. Consumed it, my darkness, and bloomed. Quietly, without any fake light.

Until I grew too much for my own darkness to hold me any longer.

And my reality shattered.

The last five years saw me and the world I had known, broken. Utterly. Smashed to bits. And subsequently, rebuilt from the ground up. From the inside out. Using the dark I had lived in, to build a new reality that allowed the light both in and out, in realistic amounts.

I have learned that so, SO much grows in the dark though.

Without the lessons learned in the blackness, where only the visceral counts. FEELING DEEPLY. Not being led by anything or anyone with an agenda. Just listening to your intuition. Allowing the rawness of your being to lead you. Fully embracing your darkness. Without this level of honesty with myself, there could be no true finding of my light again.

Life isn’t as it seems. The rules don’t really exist. And the light can only really be seen when you’ve had the darkness to create it.

Authentically.

I believe in signs. They have led me so perfectly when I have chosen to see, accept, listen to their meaning and act on them.

I ask for them. Often. And receive, just as often. Not always in the order I ask, as some lessons and their signs take more time. More effort from me to see, and more patience in learning.

For years I have, patiently at times asked (at other times I have begged and raged) for guidance and clear signs that I am on the path meant for me. That I am living a life of purpose.

My purpose. What my soul is here to give.

And I have had, in the last two years a constant bread crumb trail. Spirit has lead me, very clearly (again, when I chose to see and hear) with the most incredible and profound signs.

It’s taken some deep introspection and indeed, occasionally reaching out for more guidance to puzzle piece the messages (Thank you to my precious friend Siobhan for being willing to play puzzle keeper with me so often). But it’s happening. I am reading the signs more clearly, fluidly and swiftly than ever before.

My body and mind have tuned in. I don’t wait for the Universe to be screaming at me and throwing things about and my life on its head for me to go still, listen and truly hear. 

 So, the second reason for my tears when presented with that magnificent encounter with the Crow was that the reframing of my outlook meant I knew he was a sign and not just a random encounter with nature in suburbia.

A sign of abundance. Of trust. Of acceptance. Of clarity and of courage. And one of peace. Such profound inner peace.

Like I was home. Like I was with my own kind. Like I was ME. Fully.

And so, with his guidance and signaling, I’m settling into just being who and what I am more and more as time passes. Accepting my gifts. Embracing my difference and celebrating my power as a human being.

And that means letting my witchiness loose more.

Allowing my spiritual side to just BE, without hiding or masking it.

This is where I am being led, and where I my next adventure lies. At home, within my soul. Where I feel most authentically me. It’s where I can find abundance/wealth and peace, all at once.

I already knew the day the Crow came that a new adventure was on the cards for me. And I knew what it would entail. I had no clue what to name it until that day though.

And so in an instant, I settled on a name sitting beneath that tree, as the Crow left me that day. And have worked it into a visual form with an open heart and a smiling soul. This is the face of Four Crows in a Row you see about you.

I showed my logo artwork to our youngest boys aged 5 and 6 when it was done. They went a little moggy. And when they quietened down, my youngest, Zac, said something so profound.

I messaged his daddy this, moments after:

“I FEEL LIKE CRYING WITH HAPPY MY LOVE! I showed the boys the logo I have made for Four Crows in a Row, and they went mad. They love it! And then Zaz says ” Thank you, Mommy!”

So, I ask why and he says ” You made us all in your logo!”.

I ask “what do you mean Zac?

He says, ” all four of us mom! That’s Me and Knoxy and Juju and Vaughny!” (We have four kids)

Right there. He saw it, plain as day. He is SPOT ON.

– Four for wealth – Our babies are our greatest treasure!!

I could ask for no more clarity than this. Ever.

My Four Crows in a Row.

** After thought. I have NEVER had my ducks in a row. Perhaps Crows will help (hahaha)

Blessed Be

x x x

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2 thoughts on “What’s in a name? Why “Four Crows in a Row”?

  1. When I was young, and still living in the UK, I counted magpies. I missed them when I came to the US, but after spying our resident crows in a tree behind our house every morning, I started counting crows instead. The rhyme I learned as a child (one for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy…) is a little different from your own, but it works for me! I’m fairly certain the crows recognise me as I walk our neighbourhood, and I make sure to greet them as I walk by them. I’ve even had walks where they accompany me for a while, hanging out in trees nearby cawing loudly. I know crows can be a pain, but we enjoy them anyway!

    1. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this post Rachel! I truly appreciate it!

      I love that there is more rhyme for crows, I feel like they deserve LOADS! they are such curious, intelligent and magickal creatures or me.

      I love that they cheer you on, on your walks and that you feel you have a bond with them. So very special!

      our local mini-murder (the pack of Four who visit us) of crows here brings us so much joy and entertainment. Just their calls above the house make my heart smile as I type.

      Again, thank you for taking the time to be here. I do hope to see more of you in time to come

      Blessed Be

      Trace.

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