A Little Bird Told Me
Bam! My husband heard that dreaded sound a bird makes when flying head first into a window. I saw it flapping around in the front yard, obviously unable to fly. I finally found it cawing loudly under a bush, and was so happy to make a retrieval before one of the outside cats came upon the scene.
The grackle quickly went into shock, and I knew our local wildlife center had closed for the evening. I set her up in the Wagner family sanctuary, also known as our storage room, which has seen its share of other critters in need of temporary housing. I began energy therapy with her. How did I know it was a she? I didn’t, but around my house, no animal stays an “it” for long. They all receive a moniker, so we borrowed my niece’s nickname, Birdie Lynn.
As life would have it, we had to leave for Cleveland at 5:00 am the next morning, hours before the wildlife center opened. A good friend offered to pick up Birdie and take her there if she survived the night — an unlikely outcome based on her condition when I went to bed.
Birdie looked even worse the next morning – she was barely alive. I chose to do more energy medicine to help her transition, and let her pass in peace. I made her as comfortable as I could and headed for Cleveland. I knew I could continue the energy work from a distance.
When I returned that night, she looked a bit better! I couldn’t believe it. She wasn’t able to eat or drink, but she wasn’t “going to the light” either. It was late, and the wildlife center had already closed, so I continued the energy work. I felt so guilty – I should have had my friend take her there. What kind of vet was I? At least I could find some comfort in doing more energy medicine.
The following morning, Birdie Lynn looked great! She was alert and moving around in her “cat carrier condo.” I knew she needed time to get through the shock and neurologic trauma from the window collision, but this truly seemed miraculous. Even given intensive treatment, most animals don’t make it through what I had witnessed the morning before. The energy work could have been the key! I started to feel much better about myself. I took her to the wildlife center, and was relieved to finally have her in expert hands. (Just for the record, she was given a good prognosis for a complete return to health.)
Then I realized the wisdom Birdie Lynn was giving me. I was going through the typical human emotions of approval and guilt – right and wrong. When I made the decision to let her pass in peace and she didn’t, I was the bad guy. When she improved, I was the heroic energy practitioner and veterinarian. But in reality, was I any of those things?
I had lost sight of my spiritual and energetic teachings, and had been coming strictly from ego. Perhaps Birdie was doing all the work, and I was the student. One of the greatest gifts we can contribute to each other’s healing is to be a compassionate, devoted participant, without needing to fix anything. We must do what we think is best, and detach from the outcome – whether or not it meets our expectations.
The lesson this little bird brought me is that true healing occurs when we come from the desire to be of service to those who are suffering, and it is the healer who is the real recipient.