Inspired by a Sparrow

Now in its 15^th year, the Great Backyard Bird Count continues through today as folks across the country count the birds in their yards and submit types and totals to Cornell Lab and the National Audubon Society.  Results provide ornithologists with a snapshot of birds and their migratory shifts across the continent among other things.  

There will be one less bird in my count because of the little sparrow I found on the sidewalk Friday.  During my walk as I neared the corner for home, I scooped up its tiny dead body and swaddled it in the extra shirt I had worn thinking it was cold outside.    

Moments later as I sat holding it, a song line crossed my mind.  

“His eye is on the sparrow and I know he watches me.”

I had no doubt the eye of the Divine was on that sparrow and the same eye was watching me.  Only time would tell if I would honor this beautiful bird as well as my time. Would I listen or get distracted in a myriad of ways as I so easily do?  Or could I swing wide the doors of my heart and mind to really be present and hear without preconceived ideas of what was going to arrive?

As I sat a thought came first.  Will I count birds because I want to or feel I need to?  Then I noticed the eerie quiet in our yard which is usually frequented by a cardinal couple, chickadees, titmice, sparrows, blue jays, blackbirds and a wren. Were they being counted elsewhere or had they been tipped off to a hawk or cat in the area that I didn’t see?  Then I thought of Rachael Carson’s “Silent Spring”

I talk with clients at times about showing up, showing up in the present without preconceived ideas.  I anticipated I would show up and feel my heart opening toward this tiny bird.  Instead I found my mind moving toward something kin to anger.

The accompanying thoughts went something like this.  Do most people realize why we need birds?  Birds are about more than beauty and song. They are nature’s pesticide feeding off garden and yard insects.  Yet how many billions of gallons of chemicals are readied for the imminent growing season to be purchased and sprayed across Mother Earth.  These pesticides will find their way into our water supply as well as birds bodies and ours contributing to cancers and resulting in a myriad of pharmaceutical company drugs.

As I held the sparrow, I discovered held within anger and rage not at individuals as much as the corporate world.  I understand individuals’ ignorance.  I personally didn’t know until the last decade of the harm in pesticides.  Similar to processed foods and chemically laden cleaners lining store shelves, I assumed if it’s sold in stores it must be okay.  What I’m becoming increasingly intolerable of is corporate deceit.

The discomfort I found within as I held the sparrow comes up repeatedly of late.  How do I someone of deep love and compassion say, “Enough.”  How do I recognize and say something isn’t okay while also holding the joy of being awake and walking Earth in these times.   

As I continued to hold the sparrow and witness my experience, I expected my anger would get in the way. Instead I found acknowledging anger and owning my negligence cleared a path that brought me peace.

Suddenly I realized the doors to my heart had opened.  I felt such joy holding this smallest of God’s creatures.  I did not want to let it go yet knew the time came for me to return it to Spirit and Earth.  It was so hard to let go of this little loved one.  I thought of those I know who have lost those they love so dearly and how unfathomable it must be to let them go in earthly form.

As tears filled my eyes I heard: “There is a way to hold me, to carry me not just in your arms temporarily but in your heart. Carry my beauty; carry my spirit, my song and my grace.  In this way you carry me and all my kin.”

As tears continued to arrive I knew I do carry Nature within which is why my heart gets broken and I carry such heaviness at times.  This heaviness is why the doors to my heart that for now are open have mastered being closed. 

I finally lay the sparrow to rest beneath the ferns whose fronds have remained lush and green for several winters now.  The song again came to mind. “His eye is on the sparrow and I know he watches me.”

The Divine watches me with compassion, not judgment.  Can I watch myself likewise as I sense this new place in which for now I’ve arrived, a place where I can voice my anger and experience peace and joy at the same time? 

Mother Earth keeps her doors open to my presence and to our presence.  I can do no less than keep the doors to my experience open wide.

P.S. It's not too late. If you're reading this on Monday the 20th, count the birds in your area and submit your totals at Great Backyard Bird Count.

-Dawn, The Good News Muse, 20 February 2012

dawn@imaginetheshift.com