How is this world ever going to love me?

How is this world going to love (me)? When I consider the story of all the messiahs and prophets, including Jesus, Lao Tzu, Deepak and of course Oprah who came before me. Then, I wonder HOW is this world ever going to love a Spirit like me?..

“Do you love me?

Do You love me?

do YOU love me?”


Yes, actually, everyOne loves (you) me. Ok, not everyOne on the planet, but everyOne on my planet who knows (you) me, loves me deep down inside. All the way inside there, that’s love you are feeling, isn’t it?

Should I <repeat> the three questions above for effect? Or <pause> here to let <you> contemplate <your> love for someone <me> whom you may have never met? And is this just random love sent out in bottles to you about love for me or for you?

D) All of the above about love. You are love and I am love, but today I’m just wondering how (you) are ever going to love me when a lot of what I do is write words to (you), color in my journal, listen to positive music and pray.

That’s what I do all day = love, pray, sing, journal and color. Because prayer is work and that “healing work” is eternal.


Steph Bird

p.s. I still really gotta go mail my mom and grandpa that package filled with,

LoVE (alive) from California



Prayer = WORK!

Prayer = WORK!


Prayer = WORK?

Prayer work? I have been praying for work every single day since I started breathing. I have been meditating and praying for all my family and friends. I  pray for their health, then I pray for peace on their Earth. Still, this life hasn’t felt as peaceful as heaven could.

Heaven sent yesterday, I could see that my friend Frank was hurting. I wanted to feel compassion for him, but I couldn’t even look him in the eye. Doing so reminded me too much of when his words cut to my core like a knife to my own heart.

The story? A few weeks ago, Frank knew exactly what to say to take my breath away. He told me I was a terrible influence, a horrible facilitator and a rotten leader. He said I don’t have what it takes to survive and thrive, then he spat on my grave when he asked me to leave “his place”.

A break up of friends. A death of a legacy story. That’s how it felt back then anyway.

But, all that wasn’t true?…

Not a lick of it seemed true yesterday when Frank walked up to take his P.C. (which ironically, wasn’t PC). All that wasn’t true when I could feel his apprehension and fear at my very presence. We sat down on a park bench, then he told me a personal story about the trauma he felt when his neighbor shot his other neighbor over shrubs.

Confirming again to him that I only have two weakly loaded muscles for guns did nothing, it was clear that neighborly trauma never left him. He’s still scared of angry people, and his body was literally shaking for fear of death.

Understandably so, we have hurt one another deeply with our words. We cut each other’s stories up and fed the ashes to the sky. We even publicly humiliated one another, which is demeaning and perhaps a leading cause of immortality.

This immortal heavenly body inside me? I want to believe in losing a fear of a spiritual death. I have to pray that “I” will go on after “I” go off. If it’s not, I am sick to death of believing in the Justice that doesn’t exist and each man’s unique version of right and wrong. Sick of waiting for that WRITE day to come when Justice will be served.

Facing fear, yesterday needed to be the write day to lay down any arms Frank felt that I carried. It needed to be my honest day when I told Frank that I’m sorry too, and I need a friend too. Frank and I are still friends, I hope.

Today though? I need to drink water, eat food, exercise, mail my grandpa a package for his birthday, then write and color again about these fears and traumas.

“Love = Fear” is what keeps me writing these posts about fear. Fear is my BFF for life, it whispers secrets in my ear and holds my hand at night. It’s everything beautiful and perfect and lovely and angelic about this world I have chosen to embrace.

Fear = Love.

Am I always so Dead to the world? I’ve never felt so 100% alive. Alive is the way I have felt for a while now, perhaps since death has come and gone so many times in my own life. The door is open to all those laughable fears (and life is nothing to be super stressed about).

Speaking of stress, want to go for a walk with me to go play? at the park? I feel like I need a swing today..

~Steph Bird




Here i gOooo…

Creating things? I.t.s healing to me. It’s white and blackbird of me. It’s artistic, autistic, and BEautifully uniquely “me”. This is Card#One of Birdanity Deck#One titled “Take My Hand 🤚 & RUN 🏃‍♀️ 🏃 ♪( ´θ`)”

Secret? I made it when I was trying to figure out my heart conditioning. It’s when I was healing from the last heart break. It’s ARTfully weird?


“Take my hand 🤚 and run 🏃 🏃‍♀️”

<Ka!Ka!🦅 >

#birdanity #birdanityart #birdanitygame #birdanitywords #notforsaleortrade #copywrongtowrite #write #create #art #artoninstagram #birdanitytarot4kids_deckOne_cardOne #cardgames #games #gamestop #love #kidsgames #spiritforkids #spirit4kids #stillblessedyogi @stillblessedyogi #warrior #warriorsgame #lovingkids #lovinglife #lovinhwhatido #lovingwhoiam #lovingwhoimbecoming #lovingwhoyouare #insideandout #naturelovers #comfortableinmyownskin #skin #bruised #hurtinginside #kaka! #birdspirit #birdanityspirit





Welcome back?

To Birdanity,
Gravity. Time.
Taking back all the gold$S$
All the Dream$ that were $old
To You,
Time to let go, And wish them well (bYe!)
We are
It’s Ours if We Troy,
These sorrowS
are Drowning


<how do U:






Always and never?

Friends tell me to “B” brave and I wander and wonder with whom who they are speaking? Is it this “B”? It must Be me, no One else is around when they are saying it and it was written to my cell number. I got the message in my cell, “B”.

Feeling a bit like a Jail Bird, these days I didn’t really want to be a writer. Still, this Bird in me is an author by trade (trading words?). None the less, this Bird? SHe wants to sing so she writes these messages in a bottle to the person sHe is waiting to consume.

Consume? Write, wrong word choices perhaps. Anyway, this is my millionth publication and to be fair, I wasn’t able to write to You for a while.

Family? I’ve been busy with a FULL TIME job with a family, more than a few in fact.

With that, I haven’t had much time to be a very good writer, feel social or network. I’m sorry about that, but I understand there were 7 other billion voices from which to choose who were all willing and able to BE social here. I’m just one bird, really.

B_Brave, Bird?353A4D5E-EBBC-4DF3-AB8F-030D9CC2BF49

This Bird has seen my share of struggle. Even times when I thought that I knew best, when I sailed through storms instead of stopping to rest. It always seems the hardest when I’ve made up my stubborn mind, well.. I am changing my ways this time.

Writing here, I want to be like water coming down a mountain into shadowy canyons, bound for the sea. Heading up hill no more, I am bound for the sea with these bird wings. I was born to wander with these words. This poetry in a paragraph, it’s weird.

But, have you ever seen an Eagle head straight into the wind? He doesn’t pick a fight, he spreads his wings and just gives in. And, in the end of that flight he always makes it Home just fine. I guess he knows every storm subsides.

Today, I’ll let nature take it’s course. No more thinking that I know where this river is meant to go, or railing against the stars for the cards that I was dealt or the lottery I never won. Gone today is the heart ache that I never felt and am trying to forget.

Gone? It always seemed that when I let go of expectation and regret, life has plenty of surprises for me yet.

~Stephanie Bird



I am



a writer,

(and an artist

and a _____

and an educator

and a biz consulant

and a _______ “Jesus”

and a *sigh*

seriously? enough…

I’m going to GO COLOR




Is this thing ON?


all is vanity?

When they said “brave”

I don’t think


is what they meant?





Trans/form/nation @Birdanity


Waking up this morning, I needed to tell someOne like you that I feel weird today. My head feels in the clouds, my mind is zen on overdrive and my art is bursting with color and child-like humor. What is wrong with me? This is too right. There must be something wrong with me because I need to have someThing wrong, write? Right…

I don’t think so much anymore. That legacy story is gone. In it’s place is this story about Steph/anIe_Bird. This One is still coded weird and some moments she speaks in 3rd person about herself, or she still wonders where these words are all coming from. But She still works, and this CHANNEL IS ON.

She is moving and she is creating this tribe that has been looking for Her.

They have been looking for Her for quite some time, and now She is here.

She has been looking for Them for quite some time, and now sHe is here.

Rising from the ashes of Phoenix, sHe moved to live in heavenly California.

sHe was an Idaho potato. sHe was a farmer’s daughter. sHe was a Bird.

sHe was everything you didn’t expect and every animalistic expression.

Revealed in this One were the Sun and the Moon. A god/dess of love.

Past tense? sHe was present tense too. That is who sHe was to love:

+ everyOne with Birdanity live(s)

happily ever after.

*let’s say Grace*


p.s. She was just a channel.

Just a medium of expression.

Words. Words. Words.

Art is art.



~ Steph/anIe_Bird





Sitting down to write to “you”,

My universal network, these hands are shaking. Reaching into this network to ask for support. Me?

Yes, You,

After two decades of employment, all validated with professional recommendations and legally documented acknowledgements of my existence (via my LinkedIn profile and professional service) I am almost at a loss for stories. There’s a whole story there, but…

First, I am asking letting this Universal network know that I have this resume and I’ll be needing contract work doing a job that pays $_____ an hour. Literally, and in this reality where I live in Cardiff-by-the-Sea, I am passionate to “work”.

Second, I am asking this Universe for some advice? I need to know what to do next about a legacy workman’s comp and employment issue related to discrimination, harassment and violent Communication in that old workplace.

Finally, I would like to submit to yOur universe that I will eventually need a job, just like everyone else. i have been and always will be a servant in this game of thrones.

Brave warrior? People call me that, but i was a warrior before i ever started building this article and clicking a coded <PUBLISH> button (or some word you click). An article written by a warrior who created a before and after life status that was One and the same.

Stranger than fiction, wild and Birdanity, i am that today. I’ve been a Bird for 37 years now. A Bird <published> another article today, and I’ve been doing that since I was seven when I started writing in my diary and publishing my daily active wild mind.

Birds can write? Today, i am a writer and a singer of all these words after all of those thoughts about what kind of a warrior i should be to everyone else. i am a warrior with each first breath, each first step and all the moments i lived and died in between.

winner or loser?

i am the 1%

of the 99%

of the 100%

of people

who love people:

i love.

period. ALL of em’

And, as this Angel walks out that love-filled door to walk and work out my winner of a golden retriever, I was hoping you (god) could read this and help us out with the first (or second) question above? I need help today and I’ll keep this publication close to my heart until that “God-like” help comes…

Loving regards,

Stephanie Bird