The Moment I Believed in Magic and A Feathered Deity
I opened my eyes, surrounded by the surreal beauty of a Costa Rican cloud forest. Breathing in the oxygen-rich air, I took in the spectacle of majesty in front of me. Strangely crooked tree branches reached out in every direction, covered in tiny ferns and lichens of varying shades of grey and green. Thick green moss and ferns enveloped every tree trunk and rock. Epiphytes and bromeliads clung precariously everywhere my eyes darted. Orchids filled the crooks of tree bows, their flowery jewels showing a flash of bright color against the darkness of the forest understory. The sounds of strange birds beaconed to me, luring me deeper into the mystery of this magical place. I scanned the surrounding forest with well-honed observation skills, searching for my prize. To my astonishment, it was directly above me! The avatar of the Feathered Serpent God, Quetzalcoatl. Tears began to run down my cheeks, but not because this amazing creature I had wanted to see my entire life was preening its feathers above me. It was because in that very moment I knew that magic is real.
I grew up as an evangelical Christian. During the formative early teen years of my life, I still believed in the power of praying to an all-powerful god. As long as my prayers matched the will of my beloved deity, they would be answered. My faith was an integral part of who I was then. I remember dancing in the isles, praying in tongues, raising my hands in worship. I sang in praise and worship services. I would witness to my friends. I believed in one absolute God. Life seemed pretty nice then. Simple. It was good to believe in something I guess.
My sophomore year of high school, I had made a new friend in choir. Bobby was a cool, albeit shy kid, who had a heart of gold and an infectious smile. We quickly became friends and sat next to each other every day. As the season turned into winter, we started to hang out. It was a budding friendship. One day, my choir teacher pulled me out of biology class and took me up to his classroom. He pulled me into his office and told me that Bobby had died. As he told me, I remember him asking me twice if I understood what he was telling me. I didn’t understand and it didn’t sink in until later that night.
My unquestioning faith in God crumbled in the days following. I started to turn my back on the God I had spent my entire life believing in. A couple of years later I saw my family ripped apart over differences in religious idealism. This further cemented my lack of faith. I still wanted to believe, but I could not fathom how a good and just God would allow such an amazing soul in Bobby to die so young. I was also fascinated with world history. It offended me that so many millions of people have been made to suffer and die in God’s name. Over the next several years, I abandoned all notions of any higher power governing over humanity. My mind failed to be able to see any truths outside of what was accepted scientifically.
During college I dated a woman who believed in all sorts of mystical powers. Her family practiced Reiki. Her mother often reminded her daughter to use intuitive muscle testing divinations to discern her physical needs and in turn which of the hundreds of herbal medicines in our pantry she needed to be taking. Her mother quietly pronounced herself a witch. Mother and daughter also believed they could communicate telepathically over great distances. There were other strange things too.
I found the herbal medicine interesting and delved into studying it with earnest. But I thought the rest was nonsense. It really didn’t affect me and I liked being with her, so I allowed her the space to have her beliefs and pretended that I too believed. Maybe that is a part of why the relationship eventually faltered. I didn’t accept a huge part of who she was and this was representative of a much larger issue with who I was. But that is a different story.
I remember, while visiting her parents in Saskatchewan, a strange event that challenged my lack of faith in the supernatural powers the family claimed to harness. Her parents had travelled north into the wilderness for a camping trip. My girlfriend and I were sitting in different rooms of the house. Her mother’s voice suddenly broke the silence of the home, calling out clearly, “Are you listening to me? Hello? Are you there?” Both of us came running from opposite sides of the home to the front door confused about why her parents had returned early from their trip. There was no one there. My partner and I stared at each other with strange concerned looks. She ran to grab a phone, knowing that her mother was in trouble. No one answered. She was distraught. Every hair on my body stood on end as I wondered at the bizarre supernatural occurrence.
We later had found out their car had broken down far in the backcountry of Canada out of cell phone range. Her mother claimed to have not made any attempt to reach out to us and that we must have just been in contact with some messenger spirit in the home. My girlfriend didn’t believe her. I didn’t know what to believe. But it freaked me the F out. Maybe a seed was planted that day?
There I was years later, on a mountain trail cutting through the mountains of Los Quetzales National Park in Costa Rica, my faith would once again be tested. I had convinced the partner in my life at that time to go on a vacation to Costa Rica with me. She liked to sleep in and I liked to go looking for birds in the mornings. During the day, we would go find a beautiful waterfall, hike hanging bridges, watch white-faced capuchin and spider monkeys, listen to the ocean waves or spend some time in volcano fueled hot springs. For the final part of the trip, I had made arrangements for her to have a spa day while I trudged around a mystical cloud forest looking for my lifelong dream bird, the Resplendent Quetzal.
The Quetzal was more than just a bird to me. It was considered an animal avatar of Quetzalcoatl, the Mayan and Aztec Feathered Serpent God. My fascination with Mexican history and their fallen empires had begun when I was eighteen as I climbed over ancient Mayan ruins looking for rare birds in southern Mexico. There is an energy to these sites that stirs the imagination in a way only ancient places can.
There is a legend that the white-faced serpent god Quetzalcoatl was exiled by the Aztecan Toltecs because he forbade the practice of human sacrifice. He had promised to return and bring his revenge from across the sea. The astrologers of the Aztec empire professed that he would return in the year 1519. In that very year Montezuma II, the Aztec emperor was faced with a new threat to his nation. Spaniards, led by the conquistador Hernando Cortez, had landed on the eastern coast of modern day Mexico with 500 men. When Montezuma learned of the Cortez’s march across the land, he believed Cortez to be either a servant of the god Quetzacoaltl or the deity himself, returning as predicted. As Cortez marched on Tenochtitlan, the Aztec capital, the emperor graciously invited Cortez into the city amid celebration. Within days, the Aztec empire fell and Cortez became legendary for conquering the Aztecs. Montezuma’s name lived on infamously in the expression Montezuma’s Revenge, a bacterial infection causing explosive diarrhea in visitors unaccustomed to Mexican microbes. He has exacted his revenge on me a few times.
Finding the Resplendent Quetzal was more than just seeing a bird to me. It was a spiritual journey. I had dreamed of the moment I would see one for more than twenty years. It is not a bird you just go out and find. It takes careful planning and travelling to pristine and remote habitat. You had to be in the right place at the perfect time. Habitat destruction has all but extirpated the bird from its range in Mexico. This, combined with my sense of wonder regarding its symbolic importance in Aztec history and Mayan culture, made this a very special trip for me.
After an exhausting drive we arrived around 3:30 PM at the stunning landscape of Savegre Hotel Natural Reserve and Spa, deep in Los Quetzales National Park in the Cordillera de Talamanca mountains. There were birders everywhere. Upon checking into the lodge to get our room, I asked the front desk attendant where I could find a quetzal. She kind of laughed at me. “You can sign up here to purchase a guide in the morning.” I asked her how successful the guides were at finding them. Her response was that one bird had been seen today near the waterfall but due to high foot traffic in the area they were keeping the location a secret. There was about a 75% chance of seeing the bird on any particular day. There was only about 90 minutes of daylight left and that it would be impossible to make it to the location and back today anyway. I inquired further. I was travelling on a budget and didn’t really want to spend the money. I also take pride in finding birds on my own. I asked if there was another place I could give it a try today. The lady reluctantly told me there was a trail high above the lodge where a pair had been seen 3–4 days ago that I could drive to. However, no one had relocated the birds since. I thanked her, grabbed the room keys, and headed toward the car.
My partner and I got out of the vehicle at the described location and were stunned by the surreal beauty of the forest in this area. We easily found the trail and began to make our way down its winding path. After about 20 minutes I became aware that there was not a lot of daylight left. The already dim forest understory was quickly falling into twilight. I said to my companion that if we didn’t see the bird tonight that I was going to bite the bullet and pay the exorbent fee to have someone hopefully show me one tomorrow. She knew me well and could tell I was getting anxious and frustrated. I certainly was not enjoying the moment. At some point she grabbed me by the shoulders and told me to turn around and look at her. She said, “We are going to draw the bird to us.” I am sure I responded with a look of befuddlement. I quickly turned away to trudge down the trail.
She grabbed me again and said, “Stop! I am serious. Try this meditation with me?” I rolled my eyes and ignored her. She insisted. After listening to her encouragement, I guess I put my guard down and decided to entertain her notion. She told me to face her, close my eyes, and let go of my anxiety and tension. To imagine a light forming from within and shining out of the crown of my head and into the sky. “Draw the bird to us like a moth is attracted to the light.”
“This is dumb.” I said impatiently.
“Just do it,” she pleaded kindly.
So, I surrendered. I opened myself up to the possibility that it might just work. I was willing to try anything. I closed my eyes, took a few deep breaths, relaxed and imagined the energy forming deep in my chest. Like a beacon, I imagined a beam of light travelling up from my head. There was a moment during those few minutes where I really felt the energy of the experience. It felt like I was actually doing something. I imagined the Quetzal flying in and landing among the branches above us.
She interrupted the solace of the moment saying, “You are doing it! Now open your eyes and let’s go find your bird.” I did as she said.
Turning around, I began my search in earnest again. The light would soon be working against me. There was little time. I took no more than five steps and to my utter astonishment, a male Resplendent Quetzal was sitting directly above the trail no more than 15 feet away, staring at me from a lichen encrusted perch. Brilliant green and red plumage showed brightly against the dim forest canopy. It began to preen its spectacularly long tail feathers as I noticed another bird fly in to an adjacent branch. It was the female. Goosebumps are erupting on me as I write this.
In hushed excitement I showed my companion the two birds. She gasped at their stunning beauty and exotic form. I remember tears gently rolling down my cheeks. Seeing the bird alone would have been an amazing moment in my life that I would have cherished. Something changed profoundly in me that day however. That moment was a gift that I have carried with me every day since. You see, it was in that moment when I knew that magic is real.
Since that day, I have opened my mind to the limitless possibilities of religious faith, energy work, crystalism, law of attraction, and the zodiac. When friends or acquaintances speak about their healing powers or Reiki, access bars, tapping, shamanism, or witchcraft, I don’t dismiss it any longer. I may not practice all of these things, but my heart is open to their potential power. When I hear about chakras or meridians being out of alignment, I perk up and listen in, wanting to understand every different perspective. I have experienced the healing powers of being bathed in sound vibration. I believe that meditation can change our lives spiritually and that we can access superpowers through gratitude. When Christians, Jews, Muslims, speak of the power of their god and their faith in him, I relate to the power of believing in something. I believe in the power of their god. The truth is, since that day in that cloud forest, looking up at that magical bird, I believe in all of it.
