My bird, My Trainer

I was working away in the kitchen, power packing my lunch, making breakfast, feeding the dog, washing the dishes, taking my vitamins.  My head was working diligently to keep track of everything I was trying to accomplish in the limited time I had before I headed out to work, and because I was mentally organizing my day, my voice had retreated inward and became loud thoughts that drowned out everything that was trying to enter my ears.

The background noise in my house consisted of some blues playing from my stereo, my dog growling at someone on the street, a car warming up in the cold morning, the outside birds fighting over the birdseed I'd just put out, and my indoor bird chattering away incoherently and, I presumed, happily in her cage.  I had tuned it all out to concentrate on my tasks, letting my inner narration get louder and louder until it drowned out the world.

Then I heard a distinct voice admonish me, "Answer me!"

I had to stop what I was doing to process it.  The cheery sounds my bird, Charlie, had been making in the other room just, I presumed, to entertain herself was actually an attempt to get my attention.  She had been trying to get me to socialize with her, and when I ignored her vocal attempts she pushed at my subconscious.  It worked.  To be clear - Charlie didn't actually say real words, she just created sounds that matched the vowels then poked at my brain to make it sound like real words.  Clever little bird.

I felt compelled to  answer her.  "I'm so sorry, I'm so busy, but I know you're there!  I'll be with you in a second."

On a normal morning I'd have had her out with me in the kitchen while I was working, which would've turned into a game of chasing her around the house to keep her from chewing on my furniture, but this morning my time was limited and I was in a hurry so I'd left her secure in her cage, waiting for her breakfast.  She was patient for a while, but I could tell she was getting irritated with me.  Charlie has a pretty short patience fuse, and she hates it when I retreat into my head, leaving her out of the conversation.

The calling out had sparked a recollection of my father trying to break the hypnotic hold the television had on me when I was a kid.  He'd call my name over and over until he was finally forced to create a totally unfamiliar sound to snap me out of my imagination.  For some reason calling me Dodie worked almost every time.  I applaud my father for realizing I wasn't ignoring him on purpose; I was actually lost in worlds of cartoons, stories, and talented acting.

I made sure I stayed present to Charlie's tweets and chatter from then on, returning her social interaction attempts by whistling and chattering back until I could join her in the living room with our breakfasts.  Charlie enjoys eating with friends.  She also enjoys being part of a conversation, especially when I'm on the phone or talking with my neighbors.  Her two cents matter to her.  This incident made me wonder if she could hear my inner voice chattering away.  Did she do what she did to join in?  Or was the fact I was ignoring her irritating her more?

It is astounding how we learn to tune out the outside world when we get interested in something.  Our brains take over our eardrums and turn down the volume of life to limit the distractions.  This happens more now in my adult life when I'm reading.  If the book is good enough to grab my full attention, the world outside my brain ceases to exist.  Children tune out their parents, husbands tune out their wives - an extension of learning to tune out their mothers - and even dogs will tune out their people when they focus on something new and exciting.

I have to hand it to Charlie for figuring out how to get my attention.

Birds are highly social animals.  Their flock mentality creates ample opportunities to live an emotionally rich life; in the wild they live in a complex social environment.  Like human children, birds are curious, creative, sensitive, energetic beings.  Parrots need to feel accepted, protected and secure in their environment, and important as part of the family.  When you bring a bird home, you become responsible for their mental and emotional well being.  It's all too easy to hide them in the corner of the room and forget about them as members of the family. 

Unless you have a bird like Charlie.

Even though I do my best to give her free range time and quality time with me every day, Charlie has no qualms about letting me know when I've disappointed or disrespected her.  She's trained me to worry about pleasing her, if I've overstepped her boundaries, or give her less attention than she feels she deserves.  If Charlie wants a bath, she gets a bath.  She yells at me and throws her dishes around the cage to get my attention when I get busy elsewhere.  If she wants to chew on something, I better give her something to chew on or she'll pick something irreplaceable to destroy.  She's even guilted me into letting her out of her cage at regular intervals by holding on to her bowels until I do.  I get images of an exploding bird in my head after 18 hours of cage time, something that happens when I have an irregular work schedule, and I feel bad when I have to keep her locked up until I'm ready.  And I have to be ready.

I'm literally hen-pecked into submission.  I have the scars to prove it.

And now I have proof she can talk to me.  It's only a matter of time before she learns how to cuss at me.

Our Master Healers, Our Pets

When I wake up in the mornings, my dog hears me stir from her bed downstairs and rushes up to greet me, bouncing off the side of my bed and begging me for a little attention.  The second I hang my legs over the edge of my bed, she rubs her body up and down the bottom of my feet, activating my chakra points and grounding me to nature.  At the same time she gets a little body massage.

When I come home from work she whines and wiggles until I put my bag down and kneel for a tongue facial.  She then runs around the house like a mad Tasmanian devil dog to express her happiness about my homecoming.  I have a heck of a time getting her to calm down enough to get a leash on her for a walk.

When I sit on the couch she jumps up and leans against me, looks up at me with total adoration, and nibbles on my chin. Soon she ends up taking charge of my lap, covering every inch with her body and tucking her head under my arm.  I don't have the heart to move for a while, even when my bladder starts to fill to capacity, because she is so comfortable and happy.

I think the truth is that she makes me happy, too, with these little acts of love.  Her joyous expressions of having me in her world open my heart, whether I want it to or not, to the possibilities of attracting even more love.  Then, while my heart is so open to receive, my heart stays open to paying it forward to other beings in my world.

Her gift of love is making it possible for me to spread the love.  In her own little way she is acting as a master healer of hearts.  My little dog is saving the world by loving me.

When we live in the vibration of love, our bodies resonate at a high frequency of compassion, forgiveness, tolerance, respect, generosity, joy and peace.  We want to reach out and touch people to allow them to bask in the same vibration.  We find ourselves caring about how we live our lives, how we treat ourselves and other animals, how we can affect change in the world.  We become antennas to attract the higher frequencies that are circulating around the planet, bringing in life changing opportunities, people who also vibrate at that frequency, and spiritual helpers who want to keep the love momentum going.

Living in the vibration of love connects us with all life, all that there is, spirit, mind and body.  We
become complete as a being, harmonized and balanced and in tune with the universe.  We recognize our true value as planetary caretakers and begin to heal our own damaged hearts.

We start to glow with the frequency of love.  Abundance and joy becomes a way of life.  We heal effortlessly by allowing the people around us share our glow.  We become change agents.

Our animal companions work on a subtle level to start this chain reaction.  They come into our homes, find an opening in our hearts and begin the magic, then they depend on us to pass the magic on.  The stay with us as long as they can to keep us vibrating in this frequency, then, if we allow it, another steps in to keep the magic going.

Our animals are our master healers.  It is we who are their students and patients.  It is our learning curve that blocks the flow.

Now is the perfect time to let our animal companions open our hearts and minds to the possibilities.  Set aside any misconceptions you have grown up with and let your companion do his work.

Let your master healer heal you, and the rest will follow.