Site menu:
A Bird in the Hand
April 5, 2008by Jeffrey Pierce
Since I called in my higher self, first through facing a difficult decision in the face of the roaring surf and then by initiating hypothermia in a mountain snowstorm, I've been experiencing a tremendous amount of inner peace and a great deal of spiritual clarity. Things make sense now. I find myself trying not to laugh at the absurdity of what should be stressful situations. My ability to do energy work has gone off the scale. And I find myself following the flow via subtle nudges and corrections that would have been completely missed even a month ago.
The flow led me to a tiny bird huddled on the ground outside of my office door. Invisible in the press of the morning commute, he had apparently been stunned by a leaf blower and had fluttered to the ground, some distance from the groundskeepers, to get his bearings.
A tiny bird nestles into the palm of my hand.
So I knelt down and offered him my hand. After a moment's hesitation, he stepped into my palm and settled in, seemingly comfortable. He was happy to sit there as long as I sheltered him from the wind - he started to get uneasy whenever the wind would ruffle his feathers.
As people streamed into the building, most of them completely oblivious of the bird and threatening to step on him, I knelt there while the bird settled into my palm and then I lifted him up to eye level. He started to come out of his shock, shook out some of his feathers, and then seemed completely content just to sit in my hand as he got his bearings. In fact, I had taken a couple of photos of him with a larger lens and he simply perched in my palm while I dug into my ever-present camera bag with my free hand, swapped lenses, and took his picture. After a few minutes, I walked over to a rhododendron a distance from the main entrance, crouched underneath the large shrub, and held my hand up next to one of the branches. The bird looked at it and then climbed onto the branch.
I stayed there for a moment, making sure he was okay, and then went inside. I logged in, made my rounds, and came down about a half-hour later to find he had flown away. (Which I was very glad to see - I was concerned for him.)
So that was the beginning of my work day. Not a bad way to end the week in the office. Even if it's just a very small part of the bigger flow of things, it's still nice to know you can make a difference, no matter how small that difference may be.