I tune in to the sound of the birds.  I feel settling through my back, almost as if piece by piece bits of my back settle onto each other.  Curiosity arises in me to know all the different ways I’m being affected by hearing the birds right now, knowing that it must be so much more than my back, but my back is the strongest sensation getting my attention.  

A warmth of gratitude flows through my abdomen, chest, and arms as I realize I didn’t know I needed to relax, but the birds release tension and holding in my system that I didn’t know was there.  

I hear some birds individually, and then I listen to them all together, like an auditory zooming in and zooming out.  A wish enters my mind, a wish to be able to slow down and be perceptive enough to hear all of it, the uniqueness of each individual sound, and the sound of all of them together.

I almost laugh at some of the squawking.  I feel a lightness and playfulness in myself as I listen that was not present when I started.  I become aware again of this feeling that particle after particle is settling through my arms and through my neck.  

My eyes feel heavy, and my shoulders feel heavy too, like they are finally joining in the relaxation and needing it even more intensely than the rest of me.  I feel a bit of pressure against the front and back of my chest, and a deep breath comes.  I notice a gentle turning upward of the sides of my mouth, like a grin at the birds, and I listen as their songs become a smile back at me.  

Imagery comes to mind of a recent event that was very difficult, and the role the birds played at the time.  I was nursing a beloved cat in its final moments of life that were a bit sudden and tragic, a difficult experience for the cat and a difficult experience for me.  It was early in the morning and the birds were full of life, and I held them in my awareness at the same time I held the final moments of the cat’s life in my awareness as well.  It was incredibly beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time.  I still feel in me an expansion in my chest that feels like a positive sensation but just a bit uncomfortable still.  A deep breath comes and I follow the breath as it calms my mind, and softens the sharpness of the imagery and the memory.  

I follow the breaths for a moment; my inhales keep being deep and seemingly very resourcing, as if they know exactly what I need far better than I do.  

I realize in this moment I have not been listening to the birds as I went into this experience, and I am now aware of them once again.  

The reflection enters my mind that the birds provide a reassurance of the continuation of life, reassurance of life that would be alerting me if there was danger, and they are not alerting me that there is danger.  And with this information, a sense of deep relaxation is possible within my system.  I feel a slight pulling in my neck, as if there is a contrast between most of my neck which is settling and a small part at the top that has not been able to settle.  

I feel movement through my abdomen and a subtle tension in my shoulders.  I become aware of pressure in my chest and a deep breath comes, again resourcing me and softening the intensity of my awareness of the imagery and sensations I’m experiencing in this moment.  

A gentle invitation comes to mind to take some time to continue to experience the birds rather than describe my experience with words.  

I hear a familiar bird that I wasn’t hearing before, and a warmth spreads through my chest with so much affection and love for this sound, for the being that I can’t see but that I hear.  I feel a sensation in my abdomen, like a tickling.  I feel my breaths as if they are helping me regulate and neutralize the experience, like it is almost too positive for my system to feel fully in this moment.  I feel a bit of pressure of expansion with the warmth in my chest now.  A deep expansive inhale seems to merge with this experience.  

Somehow the other birds I am hearing now bring a smile to my face, hearing them all together, feeling fortunate to be here in this moment, fortunate to have the awareness that I do now, the capacity to feel this as I did not have before.  I feel like my breaths are meeting a subtle tension at the outer expansion of my lungs, and it is a gentle invitation to soften, almost like a very light massage.

A smile crosses my face and I feel like my chest mirrors the upward turning of my smile as I hear these sounds that bring me so much joy.  I feel gratitude now for the very existence of the birds, of birds in general.  What a gift to share this planet with them, this life at this time with them.  

The words “life at this time” sends a jolt through me, a bit surprising, and shocking even, for those words to come from me.  Especially at this time on this planet.  And yet I know it’s true.  I feel again the pressure in my chest of expansion, the awareness of this gratitude, this privilege, that is not simple and is sharing this time and space with complex difficult devastating horrific experiences.  My mind begins to feel a big foggy around the edge, like it doesn’t know where to look, not wanting to look away at either extreme, but also not sure how to move forward with both truths.

My awareness returns to the birds, and once again it is like a waterfall down my back, down my chest, this time even down the top of my head, as little pieces of me settle, one on top of the other.  Deep breaths feel like light massages through the lining of my lungs and even my chest cavity.  Something in me accepts that I don’t know the answers, I don’t know the way forward, I just know my experience in this moment, the birds, the settling in me, the tension and pressure and expansion through me.  There is density closer to my core when I think of the complexity and the opposite extremes.  And the birds seem like they interrupt even these words and this experience with more relaxation.

The sound of the birds now feels actively soothing, and the imagery comes to mind that they are intentionally soothing, that their role is soothing.  

Resistance arises immediately that I don’t want to assign a role to them that is not accurate.  

And again the sound of the birds drowns out my preoccupations, my grasping for answers, and allows me to settle again.  My awareness goes to individual bird sounds now rather than the whole.  I’m filled with a sense of curiosity at their experiences, their lives today.  I’m again surprised by my thoughts.  And part of me welcomes the capacity for curiosity, which is not always present, especially in complexity and extremes, though always resourceful.  I can’t think of a time when curiosity was not resourceful.  

My breaths begin to feel warm, and a deep inhale comes as I acknowledge awareness of my breath.  Gratitude warmth spreads through my upper back, through my neck and my chest.  And the invitation comes to let the words fall away as I stay with this experience, with the sound and presence of the birds.