A Sudden Knock

For May 14 Blog

I am not sure if this winged friend and I are the ones that joined hand to feet, and now It visits to express gratitude for my service in Its time of need.   Or if Its visit is “simply” to remind me that in the tiniest is the most extraordinary.   Or maybe Its visit is a reminder of faith, love, and hope.   Or perhaps It whispers trust when not specifically known.

This winged friend was new to me, not familiar with Its beautiful markings.   And of course, Its colors a little masked given the abundant rain.   How we met similar to Its community of winged mates, our encounter when It hit a window pane.    Dazed but alert, accepting of my outstretched hand.   Softly I whispered Namaste’ and it is your choice to decide your path.   Never sure each time if the winged soul will decide to soar from my hand in body or in spirit as it flies high.  Only the little winged soul knows if it has reached the end of its presence on Earth time.  I always desire for these winged friends to make the choice to stay.  Yet, greater the gift I know is to hold them in love whichever path they take.

I can still see the eyes of this water-soaked friend while my finger gently rubbed Its back feathers as I whispered what matters most is you are free.   Gratitude rising with the trust that in the palm of my hand It was in safe-keep.  Its feet gripping my hand to affirm a solid base.  Slowly, steadily, dizziness from hitting the immovable window eased away.   Then the crossroads in which we are tested to unconditionally give, the fork in the road in which we need to choose my will or what is best for this tiny It.   If it was about my will, I could hold tightly to this new-found friend striving to keep it from any future harm.   Or, I could listen to the inner whisper larger than me, that voice that says it is now time to part.

Initially it preferred to grip my hand instead of the crook of the tree.  Once again, the requirement to listen to what our hearts speak.  Was it a sign that I should keep holding tightly as It was not ready to be let go?   Or was it that It needed encouragement to know that It could now be on Its own?   It stepped onto the crook of the tree and I bid one more Namaste’ my friend, peace.   A few minutes later this winged friend flew away, free.

At first, I resisted writing about this winged friend, for it is not new to write about the times a feathered soul and I meet.  Yet, to not write about It would minimize the sacredness of our paths intersecting.   I reflected on Its message that it wished to convey.  What words of wisdom was this little winged friend trying to say?

Like Its many feathers there are many hidden messages It speaks.   Such as compassion for the vulnerable and setting things free.   The one I will focus in on is related to balancing.   The balance between impromptu and planning.   Let me ask you, are you one who gravitates to having plans, milestones and things you can look forward to for what they will bring?  Or are you one who gravitates to take each day as it comes, relishing surprise in life’s unfolding?   Do you hold on tightly to what was, for what was is such a part of your foothold, your base?  Or are you busy, instead, putting more bricks down to expand your foundation from your current place?

Or maybe you feel that it is both, that you are balanced in your quest for surprise and for plans?  That you are grateful for your foundation firmly under your feet, and you are equally eager for extending your reach?   How about in extension of your hand to those in need?  As you offer and plan, do you whisper your choice, or do you ask based on your need?   Are you willing to let go to make room for another extraordinary moment, another chance encounter you didn’t plan?  Or does your will say hold tight for as long as It is willing to hold my hand?

It is the art of letting go to let come, the balance of opposites that best teach.   To gain more, we must be willing to release.   We cannot be delighted in surprise if we don’t keep moments plan-free.  We can’t know wonderment nor faith if we aren’t willing to let a winged friend go.    For in that letting go, a visitor lands on the feeder and pauses for an extra second as we whisper a knowing hello.

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