Early morning this week in the silence of our home, we were both surprised by the strong thwack on our front window. A black bird somehow lost its guidance and went full body into the window and was laying on the ground still and silent.
The pain of watching a live bird suffer added to the disheveled and unsettled feelings I held this week after suddenly losing a friend who died while on vacation. Layered with that experience is the backdrop of our struggling environment, the state of our country, and the impending election that weighs so heavy on my mind and heart.
We sent healing energy to the bird and hoped we would not have to carry it into the woods. It took about a half hour, and eventually got on its feet, stunned and silent, until it flew away.
I rely on my internal guidance system. It has been with me all my life, and as I age, I appreciate all it has to offer. Practicing silence helps me hear inner communication. Practicing silence gives me space to reflect on my thoughts and feelings and affords me a greater understanding. I often borrow the wisdom of the bird’s eye view, pulling my attention upwards so I can see the bigger picture in every situation.
As an onlooker, it appeared the black bird surrendered until its inner guidance kicked in. I pray for patience as I navigate through life right now. How important it is to practice acceptance which in a way is like surrendering to what is.
I exist in a collective energy as I experience the ending of summer, the changing times happening faster than I can keep up with them, all while remembering self-care, service to others and gratitude for everything in my world.
Mindful by Mary Oliver
Every day I see or hear
something that more or less
kills me with delight,
that leaves me like a needle
in the haystack of light.
It was what I was born for –
to look, to listen, to lose myself inside
this soft world –
to instruct myself over and over in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking about the exceptional,
the fearful, the dreadful, the very extravagant –
but of the ordinary, the common, the very drab,
the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar, I say to myself,
how can you help but grow wise with such teachings
as these –
the untrimmable light of the world,
the ocean’s shine, the prayers that are made out of grass?
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