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| photo by Mim Hurst |
Bluebird, bluebird through my window
Bluebird, bluebird through my window
Bluebird, bluebird through my window
Oh Johnny, I am tired.
My daughter, Stephanie, and I were talking about my new bluebird feeder and how much I hoped to lure bluebirds to our meadow. We started singing the children’s ditty above, but couldn't remember the second verse:
Find a little friend and ……
Find a little friend and….
Steph offered- “....and put ‘em in your pocket”
I shook my head. Those are words to the song Catch a Falling Star. Again we sang hoping the melody would trigger our memory. Suddenly, we heard a soft childish voice and realized my grandson had been finishing our phrase quietly in the background: “Find a little friend and tap her on the shoulder!”
We hadn't heard him as we were engrossed in our exchanges. Delighted, we tapped him on the shoulder, then hugged and tickled him in celebration of his cleverness. He squealed his happy response!
Kids remind us how often we don't pay attention
to the smallest voice. We hear what we want to hear, give
attention to what we deem important or on all the externals, and miss the inner,
the quiet, possibly the most profound.
Truthfully, I love deep listening. I tend to be
good at picking up on what others miss. I’m not so good that I don’t need reminders,
though. It’s been a deep listening kind of winter. Cold, endlessly windy and snowy, I’ve sat by
the hearth of my heart- warmed by internal fires - and did inner house
cleaning. I’ve listened and noticed, allowed some difficult transforming and releasing of old stuff.
So much so, that I want to be DONE with the season.
My body and soul longed for spring.
So, I prayed for blue birds. Praying involves doing what I can do provide food and habitat, then lovingly sending out a call to
the bluebirds. It involves waiting, watching, trying to let go of all demands
on said bluebirds. Why should I mess with their lives making them help me cope with mine? I peek out the window frequently though, and hold my breath,
as it's possible to be obsessive and impatient while letting go.
As I mentioned before, it’s been a horrid winter. The snow never ended. People died. My family received news of my sister-in-law’s end stage cancer. Other difficulties were challenging. Interior shifts unsettled me. I often felt helpless and discouraged. I thought I needed a sign of hope, of new life, of spring after this long grunt of a season, so I prayed for bluebirds.
I’m thrilled to announce: A PAIR OF BLUEBIRDS
FOUND MY FEEDER TODAY!!!!
I watched them this morning, skin tingling with wonder, as the male bird tenderly fed his mate a
meal worm.
As I watched, I asked the pair of birds to choose my
nest box to nest to raise a family, even while knowing the fleeting beauty
of the moment. I know I can’t pray and summon anything. If I could I would
instantly heal my brother’s wife. And my cousin and all my family and friends.
Once in a while, when I am vulnerable and open, something unexpected and
wonderful happens. Something comes as pure gift, an intersection of my asking,
my receptiveness and Divine outpouring. A bluebird hears my heart. Or another small miracle – marvelous but, easily missed. Like a bit of synchronicity, a
child’s delightful whisper, a Divine consolation or soulful contemplation. All
bring a goose bumpy sense of timelessness and connectedness to love.
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| Bluebird on Holly, photo by Mim Hurst |
All this blue bird longing made me curious, so I looked up
“bluebird” on a dream symbol website. “To see a bluebird in
your dream symbolizes both happiness and sadness. It is also an indication of
purification and resolution to the opposing conflicts/paradoxes in your life.” Day dreams and longings must count, because happy
and sad – yes indeed!
Like Jude singing
the song lines for me, my body and soul have wisdom my mind hasn't grasped. My body and soul know what I need to more fully lament and rejoice. Like a small child’s voice, intuitions and longings, bring wisdom and encouragement. This is the voice of God in my life, the voice of love, helping me notice, hold the moment, and at least know somewhat of a desire to not clutch or grasp.
My winter was full of purification – a task I may never truly finish –
but I am finished with winter.
Whether or not the pair stay, THIS is the season for new life, for hope .....and for bluebirds!
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| carolinabirdclub.org |
