Falcon symbolism taught me about chaos

Walking down a busy residential street to meet a friend, I was stopped by a rooftop commotion. A seagull squawked furiously from one edge, while a peregrine falcon sat at the other — calm, unbothered.

In my work as an imagination doula and with the Butterfly House Project, metaphor and symbolism are constant companions. Hawks and eagles are common here, even in the city, but I’d never seen a falcon. My curiosity led me to look up falcon symbolism — and what I discovered was intriguing.

Birds of prey, falcons are said to be harbingers of chaos. As they hunt, their movements ignite murmurations of smaller birds, setting off a chain of disorder. Symbolically, they reveal the whirlwinds of change that leave us feeling unsettled — and even the ways we may contribute to chaos ourselves.

That made me wonder: what is my relationship with chaos?

The truth is, I like comfort zones. I like routine, order, and the illusion of control in an unpredictable world. To imagine myself as an instigator of chaos feels… uncomfortable.

And yet, chaos carries its own power. Learning when to wield it and when to yield to it is part of how we stretch into significance. I see this most vividly in clowning and play — when I allow the unexpected to surface, unplanned and unpolished. When I stop anticipating my next move, I become a blank canvas to myself, guided by impulse instead of conditioned response. That’s when what is alive and wild breaks through. Still, inviting chaos is easier said than done.

Falcon symbolism also speaks to the inner wars we wage against ourselves. I notice this in the knee-jerk reactions that pull me out of alignment with my heartfelt desires or deeper values. Ouch.

Michael Gerber, in The E-Myth Revisited, suggests that humans yearn to create a world with structure and intimacy, away from external noise. But when we focus only on fixing the external, without examining how we operate within it, we end up fueling more chaos. Chaos wreaks the most havoc when we stop questioning what truly satisfies and grounds us.

I’d love to hear — where might you stretch into significance by welcoming a bit of the wild and unplanned? Send me a message and let me know.

With curiosity (and a little chaos),

robin