In February, often our thoughts turn towards love mainly because of all the commercial hype about it. It’s the red and pink heart month, after all. During the month, however, I’m so grateful for all the kinds of love that shimmer at the edges of everyday life — connection, tenderness, self-compassion, and the soul-deep longing to feel seen.
As I write this by the window, two hummingbirds have arrived. Their wings blur into motion, almost invisible in their rapid fluttering, but their presence is still unmistakable — bright, fleeting, yet oddly grounding. Watching them, I find myself returning to something Dr Alberto Villoldo once wrote on his blog: that the hummingbird, though seemingly ill-suited for long journeys, travels thousands of miles each year across oceans and continents, guided not by logic but by something deeper. Trust. Inner knowing.
Dr Alberto Villoldo is a psychologist and medical anthropologist who bridges modern science with ancient shamanic healing. In the shamanic traditions he shares, hummingbird teaches us to undertake epic journeys, even when we don’t feel ready. Hummingbird reminds us that the impossible becomes possible when we follow the nectar, the joy, the heart’s call. This tiny bird doesn’t pause to wonder if it has enough strength. It simply moves forward, trusting that what it needs will appear.
That image of a hummingbird flying by instinct and inner vision speaks to something I think many of us need right now. February can stir up old longings, doubts, or weariness. Maybe we feel like we’ve lost our direction. Maybe we’re standing at the edge of something new, but aren’t sure we have the time, energy, or courage to pursue it.
“When we feel we do not have enough time, money, or know-how for what we are attempting, we call on hummingbird to provide the courage and guidance necessary for success.”
— Dr Alberto Villoldo
What I appreciate about hummingbird energy is that it isn’t about grand declarations, over-the-top romantic gestures or sweeping plans. It’s about listening for the shimmer of intuition beneath the noise. It’s about noticing the small moment that suddenly feels almost sacred. The laugh that breaks through your tension. The page in a book that echoes exactly how you feel. The decision to rest when the world tells you to push. These are hummingbird moments — small, bright, fleeting, and full of soul.
In mythology, hummingbirds are messengers, healers, bringers of joy. In literature they can appear when something magical is about to shift. Maybe that’s because they remind us that transformation sometimes starts with stillness, or sweetness.
This February, instead of focusing only on love as something external, I’m inviting you to look for the hummingbird moments — tiny flashes of clarity, courage, or connection that remind us who we are in the lived poetry of our everyday.
Points to ponder:
- Have you ever experienced a hummingbird moment, something seemingly small, but quietly transformative?
- What can the symbolism of the hummingbird teach you about resilience, joy, love, or presence?
- What are the small, sweet moments that bring you back to yourself?
- Is there a journey you’re resisting because you don’t feel ready? What if you didn’t need to be ready — just willing?
Photo by Aleksandar Popovski on Unsplash