No IDEA of the © I apologize to the author, I grabbed this book in the store, seriously opened it to this EXACT page, was stunned, took a photo and put it back. Terrible, I know. So unlike me.
Henry
David Thoreau once said, the
bluebird carries the sky on his back. He stated these eight simple, yet
existential words in
a time when the world was unsullied by mankind's thoughtless destruction.
Twenty-four hours a day, thankfully, birds surround me. My
association with feathers, flight, birds, the sky, angels and wings is a part
of my internal spiritual wiring that I do not even fully understand.
That is, until yesterday.
You see, right now I am supposed to be writing a social
science research proposition. I just finished writing a 20-page, 5,000 word in
depth study of the complete psychoanalysis of Adolf Hitler applying every personality
theory to his identity. While I enjoy theoretical, mind numbing, yet intriguing
studies, I am, at heart, a poet, a stream of consciousness being that speaks
exactly like I write. I have to get my entire self into a separate place of
existence in order to write scientifically and I cannot be disturbed, much like
writing poetry or creating anything, really.
Creation is a place where the mind checks out and the soul takes over.
I am sitting here right now typing these words, but my mind
is completely shut off, my brain is a mere filter for other dimensions of time
and space. Thoughts travel, seamlessly from above, and settle for a millisecond
in my autonomic nervous system, skate down my arms to my palms to my fingers to
this keyboard and now, to you, reading this.
Automatic. The only way to write.
Mind you, when I have to focus my mind on more serious subject
matters, I utilize the same process as above, it just takes a more centered version of me, not this
wing-ed beat poet who is not even trying to write, yet, somehow is.
Earlier, I finished a lovely course on plant communication conducted
by Asia Suler, such a dear soul. She has her own apothecary and on video with
tears in her eyes, she explained communion with plants. The reason she was
crying was that intuitive messages we receive during communion with plants, often
relate to ourselves.
I have a peace lily over 19 years old and typically, they do
not live that long. Mine was gifted to me by my now ex-husband when I was
pregnant with my now almost 19 year old son. I remember that like yesterday. It
was a time of innocence, of love, of security and wonder.
Lately, the lilies are not blooming. This never occurred
before. I tried everything to coax the blooming, and have a green thumb;
however, nothing seemed to work. Today, after communing with the plant, as I
often do with all of my plants, with anything living, especially in nature with
trees, immediately I received:
I feel neglected and I need sunshine.
Now I know why Asia had tears in her eyes.
Anyone that knows me even a tiny bit, understands I am all
about self-love, self-care and being good to yourself first and that these
things are not selfish, the opposite, quite radical and righteous.
I mean that is what THIS
is all about.
After I spoke to my plant, I thought, Indeed. I DO feel neglected and yes, I DO need sunshine.
So does my plant.
So does my plant.
I knelt before it on my knees in reverence, much like I do
before a tree and nodded my head in recognition and slowly stood up, half bent
over and took all of its precious green leaves in my palms from the stalk to
the tips, swept them up towards the sky, and opened my heart wide.
I saw, in my mind’s
eye, the plant stepping INTO my heart chakra and gosh, that felt so loving.
My chest grew warm and opened wide; I smiled and told the lily that I will move
its spot in my home. Although I do not ignore it, I will take the time to pay more attention to it from now on.
That goes for loving my own self better too.
When you consider now, eight simple words, the bluebird
carries the sky on his back; you first
will see the obvious:
Majestic hues that adorn the back, side and head feathers
of a bluebird that simulate something that has been painstakingly hand-painted.
The colors of the feathers mirror and
reflect the colors of a clear, blue summer sky.
Wondrous.
Wondrous.
I need you now to go deeper. It
would be disrespectful to Thoreau if you did not.
The bluebird carries the sky on his back.
Stare at those eight words without
picturing the feathers of a bluebird.
Imagine carrying the sky on your
back. Imagine the celestial bodies, the stars, the clouds, the universe, the
roiling sun, the heavens and atmosphere, the planets and cosmos, all that exists,
up there, imagine carrying THAT on your back.
Pretty heavy, I know.
Well, we DO tend to carry skies
on our backs and seldom do we pause to relieve that weight and somewhere along
the lines society, family, relationships, educational institutions, and careers,
have taught us it is selfish to get rid of that weight or in the very least, to
sit down and relax.
Can you do something for me right
now? I seriously do not care what you are involved in at the moment, this is
important, I swear.
Just get rid of it. It is that easy. I did that this entire week before
this new moon and I feel wonderful. Trust me, before today, I felt terrible.
So, go ahead, what is making you
sick?
Got it?
Okay, good.
Got it?
Okay, good.
Now take care of it.
You are not going to die.
You are going to NOT feel the
sky on your back.
That one thing can be anything,
a negative presence in your life, a relationship that does not serve you, or a
dead-end job you desperately want to get out of.
It can be a decision you are mulling over, a task you
are putting off, a messy house, a date, an appointment with a friend, or
not so simply, it might be something you are keeping inside of yourself.
Get rid of it. Finish the task.
Start the task. Make the decision. End the negative presence. Take a walk. Listen to music. Smudge. Take a warm
bath or shower. Eat a healthy meal. Exercise. Do yoga. Create. Buy yourself something
nice. Meditate. Read a book. Get into nature. Write. Get help from a friend. Play an instrument. Hug your child, lover, parents,
siblings, and pets.
Do something.
Life is in constant flux and is supposed
to be. Change is good. If you cannot get rid of that one thing, whether it is
an end or a beginning, my dear soul, the bluebird is a gracious creation
but it most certainly does NOT carry the sky on its back.
Weightless, it spreads its
glorious wings and takes off seamlessly into the sky as the wingspan
widens with a swift flutter of wings. You wish too that you could just
close your eyes, spread your arms and take off into that ancient firmament.
And you can.
And you can.
© Susan Marie
