Guardians of Death

(Not killers.)

The Vultures first showed up in my life near the winter solstice of 2022. I was in a period of reckoning/depression/spiritual awakening. They showed up as an incredible ally in ritual space: I was at the beginning of my ancestral lineage healing journey, and The Vultures appeared in my retinue of support. I welcomed the resource and protection offered by these guardians of ritual space, aways spiraling overhead, with access to endless vision.

For a while, the relationship would be siloed: in ancestral ritual space only.

The Vultures would next come to me in the form of a teaching: relationship as charnel ground: “In many traditional Asian societies, the charnel ground was where people would bring dead bodies, to be eaten by vultures and jackals. From the tantric yogi’s perspective, this was an ideal place to practice, because it is right at the crossroads of life, where birth and death, fear and fearlessness, impermanence and awakening unfold right next to each other. Some things are dying and decaying, others are feeding and being fed, while others are being born out of the decay. The charnel ground is an ideal place to practice because it is right at the crossroads of life, where one cannot help but feel the rawness of human existence.” I was in the midst of an uncoupling, and here were these allies offering deep wisdom outside of the ancestral realm. Something was indeed dying, and they swooped in, pointing out the nourishment freshly available.

There is a myth about The Vulture: the reason that the sun is far enough away so it doesn't burn us is The Vulture used to have a beautiful head of feathers, but went up to to push the sun far away. That's how they lost the feathers on their heads. Now, they sun themselves on tree limbs in a posture reminiscent of Christ on the cross. The living and the dead

Vultures lead a life of service. Vultures are associated with death, but they are not killers. This has always felt as sacred to me as moon blood- I bleed each month, yet there is no wound— it is sacred, pure blood.

They have taught me so much about existing in between the worlds, between the dark and light. So many lessons on alchemy: death must be devoured for life to continue. To dismember, to return to the elements— this is the work of The Vulture. With this task comes the blessing and the burden of a high tolerance for toxicity. The constant modeling that no matter what is here, alchemy and transmutation are possible.

Vultures are a sign of healthy ecosystem. When there are too many birds of prey around, there isn’t enough food left for scavengers. When there are too many predators around, prey animals are always hiding. When there is a balance, prey animals will feel more welcome to be out and about, and to die in the open.

There have been a couple of viral vulture videos making the rounds in recent weeks. What comes to mind when I witness this Being is:

Vultures are so metal.

And…. there is no problem to which there isn’t already a solution.

The constant reminder that even in death—especially in death— there is life.