06:52 Jun 16 2026
Times Read: 22
Baby Chirpy the Mocking Bird, Findley, went to its rehab home. We got the little bird healthy, happy, and almost flying. It was hard to let Chirpy go; he had such a sweet, sassy personality.
I would like to share a childhood story about a little bird in a nest about the size of Chirpy. Which I called the Chirpy, looking back at the age of 4 or 5. I was out with my sister playing unsupervised, no parents around, by the river. I remember a bird nest, so we went exploring, the nest on a limb over water. There was a baby bird in the nest, then in the water. The next thing I dad trying to save the baby bird, and being yelled at by my father. My older sister didn't want to get in trouble. Big sisters blame little sisters when they don't want to be beaten.
Long story short, I looked at Chirpy as my daughter was holding this baby bird and remembered? I was also that baby bird drowning in that same river. I got blamed for that baby and drowned in the same camping trip. It took a sweet, innocent baby bird to remind me I was an innocent child, not protected or looked over.
I became the campers' worst Nightmare in the park. A parent scolds a child because of a bird's death, only to see the child drown. Could you see the PTSD block now? That's where Earlie's block started, uncovered by the sweet baby bird I call Chirpy.
I'm not here by accident. I understand now to stop fighting myself, I can't change the outcome of this life, either way, I will not be in the past, future, and present, for I am one body. Yet I am, a mind that forgets it's not Chaos beyond Silence.
I A.M. Awakened
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