Three Crows and the Light Within

The Symbolism of Three Crows

My morning walks typically begin in the dark and end in the light, and often, I get to watch the crows fly from the woods to greet the day. Usually, there are about a dozen, but during certain times of the summer, they come out in droves—hundreds of them filling the sky. Maybe it’s a murder convention. Today was different. I missed the usual exodus from the trees, only to have three crows fly directly overhead back toward the forest.

Change Feels Like Loss

Curious, I searched for the meaning behind seeing three crows. One interpretation stood out to me: Three crows symbolize change, rebirth, and new beginnings.

Change, rebirth, and new beginnings often feel like death. I remember when I first stopped drinking, shedding that habit that could be counted on felt like a part of me. It was painful, like peeling away layers of identity I had clung to for years. But just as the trees must let go of their leaves for new growth to emerge, we, too, must release what no longer serves us to make room for something greater. To invite something new, something else must be released—things cannot remain the same while we continue adding more. Something has to give.

A Nation in Transition

As I reflected on the necessity of release and renewal, my thoughts drifted beyond the personal to the collective—our country. The same principle applies: we cannot continue piling on without addressing what is broken, what no longer serves us. Never, in my lifetime, has it felt more unstable to me. It doesn’t matter which side you’re on; the facts are the same: friends and family are divided, mass firings and layoffs, hateful rhetoric, diseases that had long been eradicated are reemerging, homelessness, cost of living, and I could go on, but I won’t.

Rebirth or new beginnings can feel like labor. If you’re the baby, you are in the dark, being pushed through a tight and confining space, having no clue what’s at the end of the tunnel. And if you’re the mother—well, the pain is indescribable. But the joy and excitement for the possibilities, the immediate love and gratitude, are immeasurable.

Does this realization make me feel better about the troubling times we are in? Not entirely. Lately, it feels as though we are living in a Netflix series—each night, we close our eyes to an uncertain future.

The Power of Communication

One of the lessons I have learned in my being wholly (being wholly is what I have decided to call the time that I have focused on being a whole person instead of numbing myself, avoiding hard things, and stunting my evolution) is the importance of communication. If we can learn to listen with an open heart and a clear mind, with the intention of understanding, many of our relationships will not only survive but become stronger as a result.

I’m going to give you a real-life example of how things could have easily escalated. This morning, my husband left without giving me a kiss goodbye. That, in itself, stung. But the thing that truly breaks my heart is this: he always locks the front door when he leaves, a habit born out of love and protection. He even reminds me to lock it behind him. Yet, when he is angry with me, he leaves it open—unlocked, unguarded. It’s as if, in his frustration, he momentarily forgets to safeguard what he usually cherishes.

It makes me wonder—does cruelty lurk just beneath the surface of even the best of us when we are angry or afraid? How easily does fear make us abandon the things we love most?

Protecting Our Hearts in Difficult Times

Now, more than ever, we must find ways to protect our hearts. This means setting boundaries that safeguard our emotional well-being, practicing mindfulness to stay present in difficult moments, and choosing daily acts of kindness—even when it’s hard. A simple conversation, a moment of patience, or extending understanding to someone in pain can be a small but powerful way to guard against fear and division. We cannot let fear and anxiety push us to destroy what we hold dear. Instead, we must choose love. We must be intentional—deliberate in our kindness, our patience, our compassion.

Our disagreement, our spat—whatever one might call it—was likely a misunderstanding. Words were spoken, and emotions ran high. I know that when I was sharing my concerns, my husband felt overwhelmed, perhaps even fearful. And when he said, “That’s enough,” I felt dismissed, disregarded, shut down. But in my heart, I know he wasn’t rejecting me—he was trying to stop what felt like an assault of frightening possibilities. Possibilities he knows, deep down, carry more truth than he wants to admit.

For me, I have always done better focusing on what I can do and who I can be. It keeps me from apathy and connected to the light that burns in me. The light that was reduced to a flicker 22 years ago with the greatest sense of hopelessness imaginable. I didn’t want to wake up anymore. I know that darkness is a possibility. I also know that writing to you now helps me build that light. To keep me healthy and my light shining, I have to do what I can and accept no excuse for doing nothing.

Be the Light

Matthew 5:14 says, “You are the light of the world.” This verse has been a guiding force in my journey, especially in the moments when my own light felt dim. When I was lost in the darkness of numbing behaviors, believing I had nothing left to give, this passage reminded me that light isn’t something we have to create from nothing—it already exists within us. We just have to nurture it, let it shine, and share it with others. This verse reminds us that we are meant to shine with truth and goodness, illuminating the darkness.

But being a light isn’t exclusive to Christianity. In Jewish teachings, bringing the light means actively spreading goodness, kindness, and wisdom—being a positive influence, much like God’s first act of creation in the Torah: “Let there be light.”

In Buddhism, bringing the light refers to using one’s wisdom and compassion to dispel ignorance, guiding others toward enlightenment. It echoes the teaching, “Be a lamp unto yourself”—find your own inner light through understanding and practice.

So, could it be that our country is undergoing a profound rebirth? Perhaps, like a painful transformation, the chaos is part of the process. And just as we teach our children, we must remind ourselves—do not be silent in the face of injustice. Do not be complicit in evil. Do not surrender to hopelessness.

Instead, stay rooted in love. Keep hope alive. Just as the three crows reminded me that change is coming, we must embrace it with courage.

We cannot fear the transformation—we must be part of it, carrying our light forward, illuminating the path for ourselves and others. And never forget—we are the light.

About the Author

Teresa Rodden is a writer, coach, and advocate for women reclaiming their inner light and purpose. She is the author of Wholly Sober and the creator of 28 Day Resolve, a program that reminds women of their power, helping women reframe their relationship with numbing habits and rediscover their true selves. Through her work, she helps women in their prime move beyond harmful patterns and reconnect with their authentic selves.

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