A bird flew into our house yesterday morning. Our dog Charlie had pushed the back-door open and I was enjoying the sunshine that was coming into the den.
I watched the tiny, grey bird panic as he swooped around our den. As I sat on the couch, I raised my arm and pointed my finger, “Go that way”, I exclaimed, hoping the bird spoke English and understood hand signals. I watched as the bird tried every way he could find to get itself back to where it wanted to be.
The bird was becoming exhausted and with more fatigue came even more futile efforts to escape. It had now worked itself back into the bedroom and was knocking its head against everything bright and shiny in hopes of solving its problem of self-imposed incarceration and finding a way to freedom. He was now in-between the bedroom and the bathroom, at one point beating its head up against the mirror and hoping to find the answer. It bounced against closed windows, time and time again, as if hoping the same unsuccessful action would magically yield a different result.
I waited with a towel in my arms, hoping to gently catch the bird and help it to freedom but it was far too fearful and wound-up to trust me. The bird had its own ideas…and they were all bad ones. The bird would rest for a few moments, just long enough to catch its breath, before making another weak attempt at freedom.
The bedroom window was open and the bird was free to leave at any time. It just needed to calm down, relax, and accept the help that was being offered.
Eventually, it ran out of gas and I was able to gently nudge it out of the bedroom window.
The bird reminded me very much of myself. I have been trapped in many prisons of my own actions. I work feverishly to escape, believing that I will figure my own way out. I see something bright and shiny and think that maybe that will fix the problem. I bang my head repeatedly against the mirror and look for the answer from within. As I grow more and more fatigued, my decisions become worse and my efforts fail more quickly. It is not until I tire myself out, exhaust all of my efforts and decide to accept the help being offered to me that I can find freedom.
If I was smart enough to figure my way out of the problem, I would not have been stupid enough to have gotten myself into it.
Peace, Love, and all things Beef related,