TINY LIFE MOMENTS
The Morning I Touched a Little Life
A Tiny Life Moment of fearing death and feeling life
The Tiny Moment
The morning is laptop time for me. After the night, when the puzzle pieces in my brains have regained some order, my words flow best.
So I sat behind my laptop, a glass of water at hand when I heard a loud bang. I went to the window where the sound came from. A brown blackbird was lying on the ground, twitching her little head. I looked away. Would she die?
I hesitated before going outside. Could I watch a bird die? I would cry my eyes out and it might spoil my day.
I went outside anyway. Wearing my pajamas, slippers on my feet. And I was glad I did. Reflecting upon the life or death of this little bird changed my life a little too.
The Reflection
I sat beside the bird. Saw her hazy eyes and sharp-pointed beak. Tiny feathers were ruffled from the fall. She was dazed and after the first twitching of her head, she now lay motionless.
In a reflex, I stretched out my arms until my hands were above her little body. And while I talked in a soft voice to her, I felt my palms go warm. Was this what they call energy healing?
My fear subsided. I decided I would stay by her side. And if she died, I would bury her respectfully. But maybe she still had some life in her small, beautiful body? I imagined her standing up again and flying away.
I was careful not to physically touch her.
And I named her Sally.
The first minutes passed without a movement. I spoke to her in a soft voice. Made soothing sounds. Consoling her. Telling her she had flown against my window and that she was probably in shock.
Painting pictures with words. About the direct surroundings. About future flying. About the adventures she would have when she chose to stay alive.
I can’t remember what I said exactly, but I do remember that it felt a bit awkward at first. Here I was, in my slippers and pajamas. Sitting next to a little bird who could die. Holding my hands as if I really was a healer, which I’m not. Telling stories to a little bird.
My neighbors might be watching.
And then, a calmness came over me. Who cares if they watch? Isn’t life and death are more important than what neighbors think? So I talked to her. And the world around me disappeared.
It was just Sally and me. Me and Sally.
After a few minutes, her eyes cleared and it was as if she looked at me.
One minute later she moved her wing, trying to turn her body.
And while I was still holding my hands above her little body, I remember thinking she could hurt me with that sharp beak. I tried not to be afraid. Afraid of witnessing death. Afraid of her sharp beak.
She lifted her body onto her little feet. And stood there watching me.
My hands were still above her body. Emitting my life’s energy. I held her eyes.
Then she hopped under the veranda.
The Takeaways
- Feeling uncomfortable is a great way to grow
- There’s always something I can do to help, even if it’s just comforting
- Neighbors’ opinions are not important in the bigger picture of life
- Witnessing death is nothing to be afraid of
- Connecting with nature is possible in tiny moments
- Naming a bird makes the connection real and tangible
- Feeling a connection with a bird is indescribably beautiful
Thank you, Keno Ogbo, for creating your publication and treasuring tiny moments in life. I’m glad I could write about my tiny moment with Sally.
If you want to connect, you can find me on LinkedIn, Twitter, Instagram, or my website. Or somewhere in nature connecting…
