Several weeks ago a hummingbird found its way through our open kitchen window and then panicked. It flung its shimmering little body at the inside of the window over and over. I quickly handed the camera to PickleBoy and devised a plan to free this luminous spirit from its self-imposed trap. The closest clean tea towel, a gentle step forward and soft drape of cloth around this little spirit. I slowly and carefully closed my hands around this beauty. It stopped struggling and let me take hold.

It lay on the towel in shock for several perfect moments. Glowing beautifully in the sun as I extended my arms out beyond the glass that had blocked its freedom. I could feel the rapid-fire beat of its tiny heart in those brief moments and then as suddenly as you would suspect from such a creature it flew away, back out into the fresh shining morning and away, away on its journey.

I am the kind of person that needs to feel really trapped before I take an enormous life leap. Things need to be really bad. This time the really bad has been internal and existential in nature. Grand dissatisfaction with living the ‘supposed to be’ instead of the ‘meant to be’. I have been packed into this corner and furiously beating my wings for far too long. I have known that something needed to be done but have been afraid to find that open window.

The scales have finally tipped. My fear of facing these very old issues has become less frightening than the potential outcome should I refuse to face them. So I say out loud to you and the universe - I am leaving the work that I have done for nearly ten years. Work that was never ‘mine’ in the first place and has long since outlived its purpose.

In the Native American Medicine Cards the hummingbird represents joy. I quote from the book here…
“Hummingbird quickly dies if caged, caught, or imprisoned. Follow Sister Hummingbird and you will soon be filled with paroxysms of joy, and experience a renewal of the magic of living.”

Wish me luck, my friends.
I am giving myself permission to go out that window.
It is time for me to fly.