The baby robins have left their nest and the feelings I am left with are bitter sweet.
They did not leave without their lessons, however.
Amazing, this life and it's symbolism.
A friend reached out to me over the weekend who I have not spoken to for almost 2 years. We didn't stop speaking for reasons of hurt or anger. We had to sort our houses, our inner realms. We had much to do before we would meet again and speak to one another. We had to share the realness of our journey but only got so far before our time was cut short. Though we were not left in wanting as we were interruptd by a winged visitor with much medicine to share with us.
As we chatted over Skype, the dogs began to get restless so I asked Sierra to take them outside for a run. Unbeknown to me, the baby robins were beginning to leave their nests. The picture from yesterday morning where one had it's wing raised up, should have been my clue that it was almost time. As I spoke with my friend we were sharing our mutual learnings with one another and it was of great comfort. We discussed the way we has been freeing ourselves from unhealthy constructs and understanding our own innate power to do what we need to do for ourselves as well as not overly mothering, or over-healing for others.
Suddenly I hear a lot of commotion coming from outside. The dogs are barking like mad and I can hear the robins frantically chirping more than normal. I assume that they're chased the birds to their tree but this was not the case.
One of the baby robins had left the nest and was having trouble taking off from the grass after its first flight. Nova wanted to play and the wee bird was just too delicate for this but regardless of this and how new the tiny creature was, it was incredibly smart. The fledgling robin faked a broken wing and began to hop around screeching and crying, scaring Nova away.
Sierra wrangled the dogs back into the house and grabbed a container to save the dear bird she thought was wounded. As soon she brought the robin into the house and was ready to take it out the front door nearer to its nest, it flew straight behind where I was sitting on the couch, speaking to my friend. I was comfortable with Sierra taking care of this situation. I trusted her to take care of the bird without having to intervene.
Yes, I heard the commotion, but I didn't think that anything serious had transpired just yet. I didn't know that Nova had attacked the bird in play, or that Sierra thought its wing was broken until she walked in and told me. As soon as it flew behind me on the couch, we knew it was fine and just frightened. I asked Sierra to take the dogs to the basement while we figured it out. My friend was still on Skype with me an offered to drop the call. Part of me wanted her to be there for what was going on, to bare witness so that she too could be in this experience. But I knew I needed to move the couch and to get focused on helping the dear bird back into the open airs and out from behind our couch and so, we dropped the call and the next rescue attempt began.
The funny thing about getting off of the call and when this all transpired was the idea of what we were taking about. I had just shared with her how I had been worshiping at the wrong altars in this life while working so hard on my own self-discovery and healing. That I was looking to my partner to always hold me while I mended and how unfair this was to him and to myself. Of course we all may hold space for each other. How was I to know that ababy bird woud be coming into the house to further this lesson. We hold space for one another, we do not however, have to hold each other like a baby bird while we mend. We are not wounded birds. We are so much more. We truly need to trust in ourselves.
I pulled out the couch and the dear bird hopped from the back end to the side. Sigh....stubborn child. I pulled the couch out from the side and found it on a blanket that had fallen behind the couch. The flegling was just sitting and quietly chirping. It didn't even seem fearful. It sat there, contently looking at me. I asked Sierra to get me a container and tried to reason with myself how exactly I was going to capture it to get it back outside.
Gently, I coaxed it into the container and very slowly, I lifted the container up the wall and over the back of the couch. Sierra handed me another container and I placed it over the one that the bird was in as Sierra opened the front door for me and I brought it outside.
I attempted to bring it back up to the nest which I should have known was not what was needed anymore. The last of the fledglings was still in the nest and as I brought the container with it's sibling up to the nest, it was frightened into taking its first flight out of the nest and into the world.
What could I do except place the container on the ledge of our porch and walk away so that its parents could chirp (as they were) advice its way and so that it could gain the confidence to take flight into the world once more.
Gently, I coaxed it into the container and very slowly, I dragged the container up the wall and over the back of the couch. Sierra handed me another container and I placed it over the one that the bird was in as she opened the front door for me and I brought it outside. I attempted to bring it back up to the nest which I should have known was not what was needed anymore. The last of the fledglings was still in the nest and as I brought the container with it's sibling up to the nest, it was frightened into taking its first flight out of the nest and into the world. What could I do except place the container on the ledge of our porch and walk away so that its parents could chirp (as they were) advice its way and so that it could gain the confidence to take flight into the world once more.
All of this didn't make me panic or stressed. I was perplexed at first at how to get the wee bird outside but that was the most of it all. My chest was so warmed, my heart so full. I went back to Skype to let my friend know what had transpired. I needed to bounce my ideas off of her for the ideas of the symbolism of what had just happened. I had been telling her about people coming in and out of our lives as messengers of what we needed to know at the time. How some things repeat ad nauseam until we get the point. I was telling her of someone who had come to visit on the exact same date that another had visited the year before. I was expressing the lessons learned and what I had taken away from both guests. I was expressing my ulterior motives (unknown to myself at the time) at having these and other guests in our home. Of course it was my love of fellowship but it was also due to a very big disrespect for my own self. Thinking that I need so much more than what I have and what I carry within. My own lack of self love and my own ways that I avoid working on me, by tending to others or even how others come into play to see how steadfast I am to my path and then in the way they challenge my truth and whether I would buckle under their opinionated pressures or not.. That is when the bird came into play and these were my lessons from it all:
Sometimes people come to us like silly, bounding puppies, not knowing their strength or the harms they cause in their excitement or ways meant to be playful or harmless. We in-turn act like wounded birds and feign being hurt in our fears. I'm sure we are hurt in that moment. Fear and pain wells up inside of us but surely all of these feelings are not always due to the bounding puppy that came at us joyfully, youthfully and innocently (not that all are innocent sometimes their curiosities are indeed malevolent). We act like weak and wounded birds and deny ourselves our true power and strength. I do not mean to belittle anyone's processes nor their sensitivities, I just think we're probably stronger than we realize. I also don't feel that anyone should stop going through their motions...we gain strength in our weakest moments!!!
In trying to save the bird I unintentionally scared another bird into flight. You cannot force a flighted bird back into it's nest of safety. Once it takes flight, it is one with the world, with the Sky. You could very well do more harm trying to keep someone safe, rather than allowing it the space and safety to explore their new environment that they are creating for themselves.
As well, our frailty, our emotional bodies, they frighten others. These moments of emotional are scary when people are not being real with themselves. This wounded bird symbol is something that the majority of people look down upon. Tears are not a sign of weakness but a sign of strength and allowing so that one may let go and move forward. The bird was not frail, it was strong, it was sure and it was ready! I am not frail in my emotional discharges, I am stronger for being able to express them openly and without shame. I am sure enough to display them without apology and I am ready to be with them, to understand them and to move forward from or with them with the lessons they shared with me. Those who would shame you into not feeling and expressing would do so at their own peril and because of their own hang-ups, wounding or rooted programming from their childhood upbringing.
I will fly anyway and I share this so that those who wish to fly will do so, without apologies. Take flight dear ones, take flight! Despite the nay-sayers, if you feel ready, then you are! What is the worst that will happen? You will be bullied by a silly puppy, unknowing of their strength and carelessness. You will , in-turn feign damage until you are ready to take flight again. I don't mean to make light of the fear or the pain. But this frailty we feel, this damage, it's actually a huge amount of reinforcement and strength that we can take and fortify ourselves with.
I had shared with my friend how I die many deaths in this life. We all die little deaths. I actually said it was the 'death of me' and she fully realized I was not being dramatic. That the death of the me is a rebirth of a new person and not in some voided arrogant way but like a reintergration of my wholeness as I rebirth myself over and over again and allow what needs to die in me to die. The funniest part is that I sat with a different friend earlier that day and expressed the very same sentiment of death and rebirth. Funny how the movements and ways of this life reaffirms as needed.
My friend shared how she sometimes treats one of her children like a wounded and frail bird that she sometimes holds too tight and that it's ok that she let this child fly in its own time and own way. That she needs to recognize her child's strength and to let go of her idea that her baby bird is frail, that her baby bird is in fact strong and cunning, ready to fly and show her how brilliant their wingspan truly is.
I was supposed to read my friend's cards, that was part of the point of our call. Instead, no reading was needed. We talked with one another and shared enough of our experiences before the bird came into our stories. We offered gifts of our experiences to one another which acted as a lamp post along our path to light our way. Realizing we are to respect ourselves enough to trust ourselves to walk and stumble and pick ourselves back up. And then the bird came in and reminded us how strong we all are in our delicate ways. The cards were not needed. Our medicine was brought in on youthful wings of knowledge and loving, sage, wisdom was shared.
This life is amazing to me, continually. Never dull and always and forever teaching.
If Robin has flown into your life;
Author: Cari-Lee Miller
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I am a seed burst forth from its shell. I have mingled and fought in the dirt. I am ready to kiss the Sun. *CLM
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