Bird in Hand

Yesterday this beautiful bird flew into my house. For the day he didn’t’t seem to want to head out the way he came in. Singing as we were to each other, it became clear it was not for nothing. This is my point of difference. For me, it’s a sign: an inevitable arrow that I am here to look beneath. Aimed squarely at me for my benefit. A blessing and a deep gulp, equally. Not merely a bird, who randomly flew into my universe.

For years, and so many long moments, many have told me that this is overthinking. Maybe so. For me, this is my language. It is how the world I live in speaks to me, in a way the words I place pinnacle my life in still sometimes don’t. And it works – for me and through me.

Maybe for you too.

This is the Brown Honeyeater. There are a variety of the species here but this one is chiefly built on balance; it maintains habitat but can adapt to the small changes within it. It shifts as is required for survival but folds itself to become a more purposeful embodiment and thus thrives in its elevation. Its yellow streak speaks to the solar plexus, our relationship to our Self. And thus how to balance and wrangle the pros and the cons, the do’s and don’ts, our yes and our oh no.

And after an eternity of it cheeping at me and quite frankly crapping all over my house, I stood up and moved towards it. I caught it – and its message – in my hands, took it outside and released it back to the wide world.

Message received.

© Kerrie Basha, 2017.