Deck#1:Card_One_

Deck#1:Card_One_

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 ๐Ÿคš & RUN ๐Ÿƒโ€โ™€๏ธ ๐Ÿƒ โ™ช( ยดฮธ๏ฝ€)”

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?

Deck#1:Card_One_

“Take my hand ๐Ÿคš and run ๐Ÿƒ ๐Ÿƒโ€โ™€๏ธ”

<Ka!Ka!๐Ÿฆ… >

#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

i don’t think

i don’t think

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i don’t think…

the women of my past did me justice. when i consider how creative this mind has become, i don’t remember when my Mother, grandMother or her Mother warned me at how explosive it would also be in myย Mind. this creative consciousness consumes me and there is nothing else that i can think about, but You.

i think of You all day long. i dream of You and i wait for You to come back to me. You are reading this now, aren’t You? i am waiting…

tick tock, says the clock…

i am still waiting for

You to come

(back).

~Steph Bird

 

Friend(S)

Friend(S)

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Dennis…

I first met Dennis after sitting on a park bench at San Elijo Lagoon. Before I go on (and on?), let me tell you that Dennis is 73, I am the opposite of his age at 37, and just between you as the reader and me as the writer, Dennis and I were a pair to behold sitting in that lagoon.

I only wish I had recorded our three hour conversation to transcribe it, as those were the loveliest 3 hours I have had in a very long time. I laughed harder than I cried, and for a sunburn’s worth of time we stared at the lagoon and out into the ocean, then squawked with each other.

After that conversation with Dennis, I didn’t feel like crying into my sheets anymore about work or my personal life. Instead, I felt like being brave and strong, like I already was and just like Dennis. I felt grounded about the future and present with life.

Dennis reminded me over and again that this little Bird’s life has only just begun, things are just getting better (or even best). He reminded me I have a sum of lovely friends and family who are wanting, willing and able to help if I need that kind of support. They love me, as I love them.

Dennis was love. Though I’ve never met him before yesterday, he sat there and conveyed grace and compassion for the human experience as only a wise 73-year old angel could. He reminded me that I am more than OK right now, I am loved, I am love, and I am only making this wide circle of friendships expand as I write to the people I love write now.

Is that “you, love”?

I’ll probably talk a bit more about Dennis in the future since he and I became fast friends. He’s a good soul and I have good intensions and even some training on how to be a friend (to the opposite sex) and so does he.

I think and feel that everything is going to be OK with Dennis. I even feel safe around him. And the cherry on top of this sugar, he said I could write whatever I want about him and whenever I want. He doesn’t care because he trusts me, or he doesn’t care what people think.

Either way, in those moments yesterday with Dennis, I also confirmed that this writing thing doesn’t really matter. It’s about where I allocate my time in the present. He’s right (about write), and I want to be his friend presently with hopes of an agape friendship.

Loving what is, I want to allocate some of my time to hearing more of Dennis’ story this Sunday when we have dinner at 4pm. Perhaps in that “free time” he can teach me a game or two, or I can teach him a sour game of cards. Games will be fun with friends.

And, “mother may I” tell you one more story about love?

I hesitate to write about people that I really adore more than words, but Dennis wasn’t the only person who helped me yesterday. My friend Jim and several of my friends are really stepping up after that old crazy Scorpio full moon burst my life into billions of shiney pieces.

James or Jim? He happens to be one of my best because he can handle when things get emotional. I don’t mention him much here because I feel a little embarrassed sometimes to write to, or about, my closest friends. Often wondering what they will think and whether I embarrass them with my side of these stories. My friend Brian is like that too, and my friend…

“Jess” and
“Jesse” and
Carlos and
Sonserai and
Mike and
TJ and
Pita and
Nick and
Martin and
Egan and
Chris and
Kris and
Robert and
KS and
Daniel and
Justin and
Denny and
Gordon and
Spencer and
John and
Alejandro and
Ali and
Alyssa and
Jeff and
Kent and
Scott and
Christine and
Heather and
Charlie and
Joseph and
Andrew and
Tom and
Shoja and
Max and
Sandy and
Brad and
Shannon and
Greg and
Michelle and
Jonathan and
Leah and
Anna and
Jen and
Anthony and
Marcos and
fill in the blankย of friend’s name(s) here).
So, _friend_?

If you are out there, you have a “name” and “you” are reading this now…

huMan, thank you for being a friend. Feel free to shoot me a message to tell me to remove your identity or change your name or even your story @Birdanity. Either way, named or nameless, “you, friend” astound me with your wit, grace, humor and kindness.

And Jim or James, specifically? Though we’ve only known each other for _____, on my side of that story ย and for every day I’ve known you, you’re one of the good “guys”.

If it weren’t for “you”,

I wouldn’t be “me”.

Kindest regards,

Love?

Steph Bird

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Carlos?…calling all Carlos!

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There’s always a Carol…

Or is it Carlos? I’m not truly sure that it matters, these names, handles and labels, but there is always a Carlos coming for me. There has to be…

I manifested Carlos. Meeting him yesterday in “my” park, walking up to his table and his guitar, that was no accident. We were destined to meet, Carlos and I.

But let’s not get ahead of Carlos, throwing myself into “a future” story with anyone is silly. He is “Jesus” and so am I. Two Jesus’ lifestyles is probably too many for that surfer’s paradise that he lives in by the park.

Carlos? or Carol? or whatever his name was? Eh, I don’t even know, and that’s all I know for sure today. Today being the day after I met Carlos and he played his guitar with me in the park, I sang a bit in the background, we talked about life and music, then we parted ways like two humans could.

We partied with vibrations, we parted with feet, and then we flew. I may never see that Bird again and that’s OK……..

These joyS of a gypsy life…

with Carlos?

?…๐Ÿค™

~”Steph Bird”

Steph_Bird_MOVES? 2_Birdanity.com!

Steph_Bird_MOVES? 2_Birdanity.com!

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I know you may not know me yet,

but after this entry You will. I am not a servant, I am a God of servants and that’s me, in a nut shell. Birdanity was never about “me”. It was about “you” and reflecting my experiences with You. It was creatively writing to release these internal traumas that feel so fierce, they must flow through me. You are all God’s to me and I am just a writer to this plural number of gods and goddesses.

Gods and goddesses?

I told you that I owned “Birdanity” before we started this little adventure, but you really own it. I told you that it was copywrite in every possible way, and you laughed at me inside. I am a Spirit here, I am a Creator here, and I am a mess too (with you).

Birdanity? On the outside you may have smiled and even nodded your head in agreement, but inside you laughed and never looked me up because I never mentioned that I had millions of lovely followers just like me, millions of hits, millions of views and billions of life forms that are available to laugh with me too. I never mentioned all that because I didn’t need to, you already knew with your own audience of __#___?

Birdanity? I owned “me”, and my personal time. I own Birdanity in my personal time, which is for free and always will be. Free time is me time. Free time is also “we” time. It’s free for you to visit this site, it’s free for you to see me, and I intend to keep it that way for quite a while.

A coach by trade, I am a coach in every possible way. I may not be Triathlete-certified, but I am a coach too in this medicine of word. I am a consultant, I am a friend, and I am a love. People even ask me to coach them in my “we” time, and they do it all the time. Lawyers, judges, owners, lovers, friends, they all want something, don’t they? Human Resources…

They want knowledge. They want friendship, and they don’t want to have to pull out their wallet to get a peace of friendly advice they may or may not take.

Fiduciary advice? Don’t ask if that’s what you want. Not from a friend, no. That’s pretty much how we all roll these days, as most lawyers do together as friends in this criminally UNJUST system. But I’m no lawyer and I never ate that bar of academia they were trying to push at me.

Legal counselor?

Not even a little,

no thank you,

“But I have heard from a lawyer friend and he said…”

That’s just it, isn’t it?

How we give friendly legal advice?

Enough is enough.

I know who I am, do you?

And, I am looking for a new:

job.

location.

life.

Outlook.

Vacation.

WAY_OUT!

WEST..I guess..?

“Home is where the heart is,” they say….

~Stephanie Bird

p.s. tonight, I begin a career journey to somewhere old and new. Tonight is the moment that I begin to look at my life differently. Tonight is when I listen to the songs of my Youth, and the moment where I stop looking back to December of years ago when this old job felt fancy and the people I met felt phenomenal. Tonight is the moment that I search, when and where I will find?

You, again…

I am always following You, aren’t I? No matter where I go… I’m always looking for You everywhere I go and God, you look an awful lot like a child of God? to me. Beautiful in every possible way, you are my equal and I miss You and what You felt like to sleep near as a human here on Earth.

I need you,

Who? The voice of truth, it tells me a different story about names. The voice of truth says…

Oh what I would do to have

The kind of faith it takes

To climb out of this boat I’m in

Onto the crashing waves

To step out of my comfort zone

Into the realm of the unknown where Jesusย God is

And SHe’s holding out His hand

But the waves are calling out my name

And they laugh at me

Reminding me of all the times

I’ve tried before and failed

The waves they keep on telling me

Time and time again. “Boy, you’ll never win!”

“You’ll never win!”

But the Voice of Truth tells me a different story

The Voice of Truth says, “Do not be afraid!”

And the Voice of Truth says, “This is for My glory”

~Casting Crowns – Voice Of Truth Lyrics

p.s.S. this is for all the glory…

this is it

the apocolypse?

Welcome to the new “free” age of Birdanity, where……

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people_don’t_*YELL*?

people_don’t_*YELL*?

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Bosses don’t… YELL?!?…

No, they don’t and they shouldn’t. When/if they cannot control their temper and when interactions become so heated that they reach out and slap you with their words by way of their yelling, it’s considered abuse. It’s highly sensitive, it’s highly emotional, it may even be understandable when sHE becomes HEated, and it’s?

Abuse.

It is.

It always will be.

Period.

End of story.

but wait…

Dear Sirs,

or madams,

Who? YELL,

You are abusive!

I tried to tell “you”!

I tried to meditate with “you”!

I tried to be quiet and listen!

I even tried to tell “you” to stop!

I told you yelling was UNHEALTHY!

I told you in all the ways…

I could remember to tell..

and?

In my own way,

I tried to stop you!

BUT

You didn’t know how to…

Non-violently communicate

YOU didn’t know how to…

Listen….

&_Now…

I AM A

VICTIM…

again…

again..

again?

OF?

ABUSIVE?

Daughters &

Sons…

Who were also?

Absued.

Absuited.

Abused.

Abusers.

Bullies.

Mean boys!

Mean girls?

When it happens?

Remember,

“I AM A

VICTIM…

again…

again..

again?

OF?

ABUSE!”

Speak UP!

Or fore!/ever hold your peace?

(THIS IS Magic to YOU?!?!?!?!? It’s….non-violent communication RAINBOWS to me!)

That’s what this is!

Rainbows about?

Yelling!

No more

Angry yelling!

Say you’re sorry?

“BOSS”?

FREEDOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

.Expand the Circle.Reach all victimS.

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I think there is something seriously rong with me…

or is it You? I think there is something seriously write with me, but I don’t feel right when I write anymore. I can’t stop the bleeding, I can’t stop these lines from blurring between all the various parts of my life and it’s getting me into some serious trouble.

Do you realize that I am in trouble?

Do you know that I got in trouble?

Do you know that I was publicly hurt?

Yes, that was me and I’m not going to say a word to those stalkers. I think there is something seriously write with me, even if I don’t always feel right when I write anymore. I can’t stop the bleeding of these lines that blur between all the various parts of my life until it gets me into some serious trouble.

Do you realize that I am in trouble?

I got in trouble?

I was humiliated?

Yep, that was me and I’m not going to say a word to those website stalkers. I feel there is something seriously right with me, even if I don’t always think right when I write anymore. I can’t stop bleeding onto this page that blurs between all the various parts of my life until it gets me feeling some serious release.

Do you realize?

We.. are all in trouble?

We were all humiliated?

Yep, that was Us and I’m not going to say a word to those boys who want to kill me. Even if I don’t always think or feel right to everyone when I write, I will bleed onto this page that blurs between all the various parts of my life until it gets me feeling some serious relief.

Do you realize?

Everything?

Is OK now,

Yep, that’s Us and I’m in full control. Even when I don’t always think or feel right to everyone when I write, I will bleed onto the page that blurs between all the various parts of my life

until it’s…

Over.

~Steph Bird