To Have and Hold or ... Have to?

During breakfast two mornings ago a loud thump echoed into the room. Damn! Another bird flew into our patio door window. We've encouraged our flying friends to stay away from our windows in a variety of ways: taped up pictures of predator birds, closed the outdoor screen, and, finally, draped a fishing net directly in front of the door. Still, our south-facing windows reflect and extend the view of woodlands so convincingly that birds can't avoid flying into the glass sometimes breaking their necks or lying, stunned and confused, for long minutes. This day's victim: a female Pine Grosbeak.

Hiziki raced across the living room to the patio door and hovered there, tail waving. "Let me out, let me out," I could almost hear him purring with satisfaction, "This is my lucky day."

Frances and I were mid-breakfast, client due in 10 minutes. Still, she raced onto the deck and squatted, gently picking up and sheltering the semi-conscious bird in her palms. I'm always concerned about being ready and waiting for our clients when they arrive: meals finished, dishes washed and stacked, house neat, front step shoveled, relaxing music playing in the bodywork room, house warm and toasty. But there Frances was, coatless in 15 degree weather, calmly cradling this warm, injured body in her hands and surrounding it with loving attention and healing energy. Her focus and intent was identical to that bestowed upon her human clients.

"First things first," I imagined her saying to me. "Our client isn't here yet. Could you send some reiki energy to this injured bird?"

I looked around the room, scanned for unfinished projects, carried a few dirty dishes to the kitchen sink, and returned to the living room window. Frances now stood upright with the bird in her hands. Quickly I recited the name for the reiki distance healing symbol, positioned my hands toward the bird, and started sending healing energy. Soon enough the bird turned her head, looked around, and within minutes, flew the short distance to the deck railing. There she rested briefly, scanning her surroundings, then vacated the area for the safety of a nearby tree.

This time of year we humans talk nonstop about our New Year's resolutions. Most of these resolutions are well-intentioned efforts to strengthen our commitment to living healthy, positive, productive, well-balanced lives. Here's one of my resolutions for 2008 and beyond: May I have--and hold--all that presents itself to me in each moment without being distracted by the have tos and to dos of my life. May I dwell in this moment--every moment--with presence, peacefulness, and gratitude....

POSTSCRIPT: This morning 11 Pine Grosbeaks, four males and seven females, hopped along our deck feeding on fallen black sunflower seeds. As Frances watched, ten Grosbeaks flew away and one female remained. She pecked at the seeds then picked up one foot and scratched behind her ear. Could this be our friend from two mornings ago? Does she remember a gentle touch? A moment of healing energy sent and received?