Wilder Writing

Welcome to the home of my most recent magical writing (archive available over on Patreon.com/WilderWithin/Posts) as a new-ish medium and longtime creative writer.

You’ll find two streams flow here: a memoir-in-progress tracing my first year of mediumship and transmissions from my guides on identity, the unseen, and what it means to live in relationship beyond the material.

Everything here is free to read. If this work moves you and you’d like to support it, there’s a low cost paid Patreon tier where you can access my fuller body of work.

If you feel called to go deeper, I also offer mediumship sessions and spirit world coaching. Feel free to click around the site, and holler anytime with any questions: awen@wilderwithin.com

Gender, Like Water, Must Flow

The Weight of Wings: Teachings from Father Eagle

June 5, 2026

A Channeled Transmission, Received in the Wild

On a recent camping trip, a large raptor flew overhead and perched at the top of a dead pine at the edge of camp, surveying the lake for fish. Observing through binoculars, it was unmistakably a Bald Eagle — large and commanding, with a mostly white head, mottled brown body, and enormous yellow beak and talons with a black tip (photo at left of the exact eagle).

Striking enough on its own, the Eagle then returned after I had been out paddleboarding for over an hour. It perched even closer on the signature dead pine at our site — a full snag, leafless and sizeable. I was able to watch from about ten feet below with binoculars, close enough to feel its presence as something more than wildlife.

I became briefly aware that Father Eagle — one of my guides — was close in my energy field. I asked inwardly whether this was a sign, and the Eagle responded with a gesture of his wing, unmistakably affirming. Teachings began to come in, but I wasn't able to record them immediately. I returned to camp the following morning to receive and transcribe what follows.

Father Eagle: My guide showed itself to you as a reminder of your power. It is innately natural to embody power, though you were not raised to know this about yourself. You were as a caged bird made docile and dumb – but for your song – which they begged you to sing on behalf of the very cage that held you [read: my mother often insisted I should sing in church, pursue the role of cantor while striving to remain celibate as someone with “homosexual issues”].

But you are no songbird.

I am here to bring you back to wildness, so called to this work when you gave yourself that name [Wilder; my chosen last name], refusing both cage and bridle, calling in to yourself the wild being at heart of this planet [right as this sentence came in, a hummingbird thrummingly whizzed by my head].

And so what is it to be wild? It is not merely a great gnashing of teeth [reference to Where the Wild Things Are], nor the reaction only of the lion caught, snarling, about to be caged at the zoo. Wildness is more often about a still kind of stalking, the careful wait, the witnessing without action – while knowing what power holds in the beak or talon.

You are now powerful. Able to sit and wait and move only when moved to. No longer moved by whoever held the cage, itself built of gilded story [of cis-heterosexist biological family supremacy] and electric shock [shows me adrenaline spikes in my body every time I’d try to go outside the pattern established by my family of origin].

Let the image of my Bald Eagle guide perched seat you with a heaviness like royalty on their throne [Father Eagle nods toward Queen Maeve, my Irish guide who regularly provides teachings about my “throne” and staying the fuck in it, who nods back] – so you know there is always recourse and readiness when the time is right. You will be the one who chooses when to strike.

I can feel your anxious longing for counsel around a person who scares you. I can add more to the lesson that has already been taught: you will move in that situation when you need to, with the power that is yours, and while there may be ripples yet, that person is a fish who has learned her effort to slap the eagle is laughable – and plainly put – eliciting no response.

The eagle will not engage with or eat what fish is poisoned by its own adrenaline and mania. So you are guided to know your weight – the weight not just of body but of wing, for remember, wings are utilized well beyond flight.

They are one way to beat back another, to shape air as a weapon, throwing the other head over heels and inviting them to anchor and ground their own self instead of overreaching to clutch at and grab others for anchoring the other did not agree to.

You are done having your wings bound by the grip of terrified parasites, who are other people’s children. Eagles do not care to adopt others’ chicks. This is not what a wild thing does, not when that chick is snuck into the nest without accord, not when someone else’s fledgling begs to be fed when they can very well now hunt for their own self.

Let yourself be wild. Let yourself not care, or rather, to care only for what and who are yours [shows me an image of baby self].

Eschew the cage, refuse the cage, knowing that it may be built at times by the promise of freedom and by the performance of wildness too. Here, we learn that wildness is not the careless pursuit of whatever most excites in the moment [a reference to coercive and cultish non-monogamy & polyamory and the survival-based toxicities normalised in queer cultures]. Eagle will not destroy its nest or self to chase the largest fish. Nor will eagle unnecessarily mate.

I will say that again: nor will Eagle seek sexual contact when it is not the season to do so. And it is never always that season – not even for you primates who multiply beyond what the nest can carry. So consider seasons of celibacy also as a moment perched before flight, before taking joyful sexual action. You will move when ready, at the time that is right.

Herein lies a most true lesson: to trust your own wild timing again, no longer forced to sing when the cover of the cage is removed, as those overexerting power wait to be entertained. You move when ready, and this means, YOU LEAVE THE WRONG ONES WAITING.

For this is the most wild aspect of all: existing without performance. My Bald Eagle guide came not as a caged thing to delight you but as an act of true volition in the wild – so are you chosen. Beat your wings freely while perched, not to impress, but for the sake of feeling their strength. This is about you knowing and embodying your Eagle nature, awakening to no longer being the wily but scared rabbit. Now you are also the surveyor above, calm, floating, aware.

[All of my animal guides say the following together all at once:] We are sculpting your wildness, speaking what lessons have always been. Meditate upon your Eagle self that has always been, and stay attuned for what learning may follow.

May it be so.