I’m avoiding doing the dishes. It’s not the first time I’ve written those words on here, and it won’t be the last because I often avoid doing the dishes if I can help it. Sometimes, I can turn the experience into something beautiful, and by that I mean I put on some wonderful music and disappear into the invisible place that only I know. That’s when doing the dishes suddenly becomes the most wonderful thing ever.
I have nothing to say, and yet I felt a strong pull to connect with you all: these days, for me, that usually means that I either have something to say that someone needs to hear, or…one of you has something to say that I need to hear. I wonder which one it will be? Perhaps both.
Isn’t it beautiful how life regenerates? I’m going through a transition phase at the moment (which I’ll share more about in the coming months) and where it frightens me so terribly to be in this place…I also feel a sense of excitement and new life breathing into my world. It makes me think of my trees. How often I’ve wandered along my walking track, gazing up at the hanging bark. This shedding always seems such a natural process and one that is entirely welcomed by the tree and its natural surroundings. What does this shedding mean for that particular tree, I always wonder. It means the shedding of the old. The beginning of a new life.
Unlike trees, humans seem to resist the shedding of our old bark, don’t we, usually because we’re afraid of something (sometimes because we’re afraid of everything.) I get that. I’ve been doing it my whole life. But how I long to be a tree and let the bark fall without question, fully trusting that the new bark will grow back stronger and better than ever. And that’s where that frightening word comes into it. Trust. Trusting in the unknown means relinquishing control, and that is not an easy thing for a human being to do, especially not this human being.
But If my trees can do it, then by golly gosh, my friends— so can I.
The birds are highly sensitive this morning, and so am I.
Often we sing at the same time, me and the birds— it’s so completely wondrous to observe. We’re the same, humans and nature, it’s just that humans are quite often too driven by ego to admit that we can learn from anything smaller than we are, especially if that something speaks a different language than we do. Like the birds.
Speaking of wondrous, and speaking of birds: I saw the most beautiful—and quite frankly, bizarre— thing, the other day. I was driving back from dropping my little boy at kinder, and upon entering our court I noticed a lady tossing bread onto the nature strip. That’s when I saw the Rosella. It was sitting on her shoulder, and it was-not-moving. Not an inch. As I drove away from the two of them, the thoughts began to circulate. I have never seen a human taking a bird for a walk. Is it her pet bird, or has she found a way to connect with wild birds? Oh my goodness me. Either way, it was one of the most fascinating things I’ve ever witnessed.
I believe we all have these abilities, to harness our sensitivity to the point of a deeper connection with ourselves and the world around us. I’m starting to wonder if the key is: exploring our sensitivity levels and learning how to master them so that we might use them in more confident and efficient ways.
In my case, it’s noticing when my energy fluctuates with every hormonal surge and learning to just roll with the wacky emotions that emerge, rather than acting upon, or judging myself for, the way they enter the world. It’s about noticing that when the birds are loud, my heart is too (and why might that be, I wonder) and how can I use this sensitivity to make the world as beautiful as the birds do?
Life is such a full thing, and yet too often we live on the surface of it, forgetting the multiple layers of magic that we really and truly are.
That’s why I’m searching for my keys and trying to make sure that this ‘sensitive’ superpower of mine works just so. Because life is way too short not to walk around with a bird on your shoulder. I mean, really. Guys. Surely you all agree with me on that one. 🙂