Becoming Yellow Owl: A Story of Spirit, Creativity, and Rebirth

Becoming Yellow Owl: A Story of Spirit, Creativity, and Rebirth

There are moments in life when the universe calls us to remember who we truly are—not who we’ve been conditioned to be, but the essence beneath it all. For me, one of those moments came after a deep fall. A soul-cracking, ego-unraveling, heart-stripping season of life that left me empty and raw. The kind of devastation that demands silence, solitude, and surrender. I was in that space—grieving, healing, unraveling—when a dear friend reached out and invited me to a holistic expo. I didn’t want to go. But something in me whispered, “Just show up.”

That whisper led me to a man I’ll call Merlin—a being so radiant and mysterious he felt conjured from myth. He had been struck by lightning multiple times and carried the kind of wisdom that only storms can teach. As we walked the hallway, he stopped us with a glimmer in his eye and asked me to pull a card from his spirit animal deck. My hand trembled as I drew a single card. It was the Crow—my totem. A sign. A confirmation that what was happening was real, sacred, and important.

We spent hours in conversation. Merlin shared visions, stories, truths. And at one point, he looked at me and asked, “Who are you?”

Without hesitation I answered, “I’m a healer. I help people overcome their challenges in life.”

He smiled slightly, and then asked, “How’s that going for you?”

In my state of despair, I answered honestly. “Right now… it’s not.”

We kept talking. He listened with patience and presence, guiding me deeper with every word. And later, as the light shifted in the room and our conversation spiraled inward, he asked me again, “Who are you?”

I paused this time. I went quiet. I searched.

And then, he offered the reflection that changed everything:
“Your work—who you are—is not just what you do. It’s in your beingness. It’s the smile you carry. The friendly hand you offer without being asked. The way your heart and mind stay open, even when you’ve been hurt. It’s your willingness to accept people, and past circumstances, with unconditional love, acceptance, and gratitude.”

His words cracked something open in me.

“You are being reborn,” he said gently. “And your new name… is Yellow Owl.”

At first, I resisted it. Yellow Owl? It didn’t make sense. It didn’t feel familiar. It challenged me. But as the days passed, I began to feel the layers of meaning ripple through me.

Yellow is the color of the sun, the spark of creativity, joy, and clarity. It’s the hue of curiosity and fresh ideas, of light returning after long shadows. In many traditions, yellow symbolizes inspiration, intellect, and awakening—everything I was slowly reclaiming after being broken open.

Owl is the seer in the dark. The quiet watcher. A bridge between worlds. While most see owl as a traditional spirit guide, Yellow Owl—my owl—is fictional. Imagined. Created. And yet, it feels ancient. The Yellow Owl is a being of warmth and wisdom. A teacher of balance. It invites us to see in the dark and carry light. To create from stillness. To inspire through observation.

This name is not just a label. It’s a path.

It reminds me that we are not here to simply heal—we are here to create. To transmute. To offer our lived experience as medicine for others. Yellow Owl is my reminder to participate in humanity with a wide-open heart, clear eyes, and a willingness to be seen. It’s a call to lead with love, to observe without judgment, and to be an example of how a human can walk humbly with spirit, even through fire.

Now, when I sign my name, speak my truth, or hold space for another—I do so as Yellow Owl. Not because I need a name to define me, but because this one chose me. And in choosing me, it gave me a story to live into.

May you find your own name. Or let it find you.
And when it does, may you rise to meet it with courage, creativity, and curiosity.

– Chris “Yellow Owl” Albaugh