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




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:







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 Jesus 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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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?


It is.

It always will be.


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..


In my own way,

I tried to stop you!


You didn’t know how to…

Non-violently communicate

YOU didn’t know how to…










Daughters &


Who were also?






Mean boys!

Mean girls?

When it happens?









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?


No more

Angry yelling!

Say you’re sorry?



Home? Lost in my mind!


I’m Back…?

Hello world, I hope you are listening. Forgive me if I’m young or speaking out of tongue. But, there’s someOne I’ve been missing and I think that they might be the better part of me. There are in the wrong place trying to make it right, but I’m tired of justifying. So I say to you,

Come home…

Come home……

‘Cause I’ve been waiting for you for so long. For so long! And right now? There’s a war between the vanities, but all I see is you and me. The fight for you is all I’ve ever known. So come home!

Home? I get lost in the beauty of everything I see. The world ain’t as half as bad as they paint it to be. If all the sons and if all the daughters stopped to take it in, well hopefully the hate subsides and the love can begin. It might start now. Well maybe I’m just dreaming out loud. Until then,

Come home

Come home!

You don’t want to lose me now?

Someone to save you?

Dreaming out loud?

I’m lost in my mind?

You’re already home where YOU feel love?

Oh my brother?

Oh my sister?

Your wisdom is older than me.

Oh my brother, don’t you worry about me.

Don’t you worry about me!

How’s that

How’s that bricklayin’ comin’?

How’s your engine runnin’?

Is that bridge gettin’ built?

Are your hands gettin’ filled?

Won’t you tell me, my brother?

‘Cause there are stars

Up above

We can start

Moving forward!

Where does the music come from?

It could be right in front of you

With so many seats to choose from

You sit where you always do

’til you won’t someday

No more crying from the balcony

Go find your front row seat

Don’t be a stranger to the


Feel your real heartbeat?

Where does peace of mind come from?


could be



in front

of You!


A creative Sunday mash
of art/lyrics
by Stephanie Bird
Chris Trapper
The Head And The Heart
One Replublic

Is it Time?


But, who is TIME?…

Time to get to work in my life!
It’s time..?
It’s time…..?
It’s time……….?

“I” came out…
She came out…
He came out…

…to show up in this life. One skin of a gorgeous home and the only One I know and own. Time is really worth nothing here though. I am worth nothing, but time. And my time is worth? Priceless amounts to me alOne, yet my extra time is still worth nothing to them.

“They” are counting my time today and they have been for a life/time. They count to allocate and identify when I am worth diamonds or gold to them. Gender fluidity aside, no one cares about this male and female nature when allocating the resources that I sold, TIME.

Though they want my time in a bad way,

and they even say they need

MORE people like me,

is it wise to be wanted so…


It’s about Time, that old geaser! And only my dear friend, Time will tell if I am priceless or not to “you”, the reader of this time. My guess is that ‘I am’ worth more than ‘Father Time’.

Just a guess..

~Steph Bird



This poetry, this Me…

It’s home, it’s Encinitas where Self-realization did happen. Love or no, this is the real Me when someone else wanted to take a picture of  a moment when I was.. me. This is what sits across from you, unafraid of anything “you” have to say, write, think or feel. Unafraid. Period. Comma, *gulp*

It’s gender fluid me, it’s non-criminal me, it’s Jesus me, it’s just “me”, which has nothing to do with my sexual preference, by the way. And everything to do with believing that I am write, wrong, weird, crazy and X, Y, and #Me too. C’mon now, let’s stop torturing each other with these X and Y games?

I found X..

I identified with Y.

There theY are with me,.. with we!..

With Us, I suppose, if we you want to combine

These seXes of genders that make no sense to anyOne

Including me sometimes. All I ask is that “we” keep talking

to One another. that we keep talking and expressing and letting

it out. it’s ok to be mad, I can get with mad. Yell if you need to, wreck

the car. let it all out with me in Space even, let’s yell together about how

crazy and mentally insane this all really is, doesn’t it seem? does this seem healthy?


When I wrote this, “I do” seem sane (to me).

Sweet home, Encinitas…?


~Stephanie Bird_Test:20180417:22:24, Over and out

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It’s time…

to write to the real You. There are so many stories, but when I sit down or lie confortably, I dream of You. I even dream of a You that is bigger than I could ever dream.

You are big in the hands of my mind. I still feel so small when we compare our statues and yours is 7′ wider and I’m swallowed up, like a Cardiff Kook.

In any case, You, I am still writing You these legacy letters that I will never read or send, but they didn’t tell me not to read, think or write about You in those judges chambers. He never asked me to stop thinking, or did he? I’m not sure, but as I write I can hear my heart beating in my right ear and it’s going faster than is perhaps healthy..

Regardless, we are no doctors, lawyers or judges either and clearly it was You who cyber attacked me, then you played judge to your own victimhood in that room where you suited up to read me your writes about being right about writing. What a mess we are right now….and Yikes, this is a public pickle, isn’t it?

There is literally nothing I am going to do, but go to bed and repeat whatever mantra suits me about writing, like…

*I am a safe person*

*I am safe*

*I am*


~Stephanie Bird