I am sitting back listening to the birds singing their final Fall goodbyes. Accompanied by the crickets, I hear the bird song and then the response echo. Maybe they’re looking for a last fling before they fly off to warmer places? And I am suddenly reminded of the way we all go in search for familiar people. Our flocks are out there waiting for us to find them. We are birds of a feather flocking together in many ways that count.
Hope is there where the flock resides. A place to be seen and heard for just who we are. It feels like family and familiarity and peaceful restoration to be in the same place as like-minded people. And it is definitely worth looking for.
When I entered the online world of social media, all I could feel was fear of vulnerability. I was terrified to be seen by people I always thought I’d never be seen by again. Ex-lovers and past schoolmates would see me as I am now and I thought, I wouldn’t be impressed with me either. But what I came to find was that the truth isn’t at all that dramatic when everyone’s also human. We forgive each other stuff lest we be judged too.
Hope is there where the flock resides.
A place to be seen and heard for just who we are.
Further I found, that when you do find like-minded people, you truly feel seen on the inside without ever laying eyes on one another. You begin to forgive yourself the ridiculous stuff you used to focus on as you begin to see yourself through other people’s eyes. People who don’t even know you see right down to the gems that are your soul. And you have no other choice but to believe them.
Because there’s magic that happens in the world you’d never know unless you’d experienced it. A deeper connection with a collective humanity that defies definition and exists right below the surface of all the noise. And that interconnected web holds us all up even when we can’t see it. And believing in it and a better outcome for us all is a blind faith I dig having.
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And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.
4 Comments
You are brave to eat crabs inside the house!
The rug below is an old sisal thats was in the garage. We have a 150 year old house, pets, and kids so nothing is too precious. Save the kids.
Timely — I wrote a poem this morning called “Birdcage” when I ran across a postcard that featured a cage with beautiful birds of several colors. You are part of my flock. Thank you.
Awwww. As you are part of mine too!