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Posts Tagged ‘safe’

A Bird in His hand.

Yesterday when I opened the door to go on my morning walk around the garden, the little Zebra Finches heard the door and started singing out. I could tell by their chatter that they were distressed about something.

There on the floor of the aviary, was a baby bird barely moving. The other birds were flying down and landing next to it, then going back up to the perch, as if showing me where the problem was.

I opened the door and reached in, gently gathering the little bird in my hand. It’s heart was pounding so I knew it was alive. As I carried it around the cage to pop it back into the nest-box, it fluttered weekly but didn’t try to escape. I smiled and spoke softly to it. It’s sibling (photo) was hopping around the floor, and looked much stronger.

For a moment I pictured myself as that little bird in the safe hand of God. It is comforting to know that ‘The Lord is good to all; he has compassion on all he has made.’ Psalm 145:9

DJ

(c) DJ Stutley 2012

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A blast from the past. (translation for international readers: dunny = toilet)

I was five when we left the US in 1964 and settled in a small town in the south-west of Western Australia. My mother thought she’d stepped into a third world country but we never heard her complain. Gone was the electric stove, running hot water, bath tub and shower, and many of the ‘mod con’s’ she’d grown accustomed to.

It was a huge adventure for us kids, but there was one thing that has scared me for life. The outside dunny! It was a terrifying place to a 5-year-old girl who’d never encountered such a thing. It was old, dark inside, made of wood boards just nailed together to resemble a box with a door and a roof. The door had a hole in it so that you could peer inside and see if there was anyone in there before you opened the door. At least I assume that’s what the hole was for… We were under strict instructions never to leave the door open or a snake would go in there.

The seat sat perched on slats of wood over a bucket. Yes, a bucket! The ‘little room’ was positioned at the back of the yard and the back wall was part of the fence. There was a lane on the other side of the fence and once a week a truck came down that lane emptying all the toilet buckets from the other dunnies that backed onto the lane. This once a week thing was something I never worked out till years later. Which is why I refused to go to the toilet unless one of my younger brothers would come with me and listen for the truck. I dreaded the day I would be sitting over the bucket and suddenly having the little door open and the bucket removed while I was preoccupied!

It was not a place you stayed very long in. It was in and out as fast as you can. Because I held off ‘going’ for so long, I was usually quite desperate by the time one of the boys turned up to listen for the truck. Then there was the inspection. I checked for the elusive snake, checked for spiders, I checked that the bucket was there, I made sure the toilet paper was within reach, I made sure the door would stay closed without actually locking it (I may have needed to escape quickly). And then there was the question: ‘Is it still safe?’ And whoever was on guard duty would inevitably reply, ‘Yes. But hurry. I need to go too.’

DJ

(c) DJ Stutley 2012

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Good Monday Morning to you all. I have a challenge :)

Consciously step out of your safe ‘Port’ this week. If you have something you can share now – about what you are going to do, then please share. If you want to check back in at the end of the week, or next week on Monday, I’d love to hear what you did.

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It’s Monday morning again :) And it’s raining!

I just love winter. The cold, the wind, and especially the rain. The harder the rain falls the bigger my smile grows.

A while back, when I was going through trauma counselling, I was asked to think of a safe place – a place that gives me a feeling of pleasure or safety. I needed a memory that would help me retrieve a positive emotion that I could bring up and use to replace a feeling of distress or disturbance.

Sitting in a comfortable chair with my eyes closed, I thought back over the years to the many places I’ve been, things I’ve seen and done: sunsets, sunrises, forests, bushwalks, food… nothing seemed to ‘click’. I was about to give up when a picture began to form in my mind. I could feel the tugging of a smile as pleasure welled up inside me. By the time my mental picture was complete, I was grinning. I’d found my ‘safe place’. I opened my eyes and felt like laughing. Who would believe me? Let me describe my safe place…

The rain is bucketing down!  I am standing out on my patio with a cup of coffee. The rain is so heavy I can hardly see the building 20 metres away. The traffic coming down the highway has slowed to a crawl, their headlights weak and distorted. Thunder rumbles overhead. A gust of wind drives the rain towards me and I step backwards. This is my favourite place, favourite season, favourite memory. My ‘safe place’.

Do you have a ‘safe place’? I’d love to hear from you.

Have a great week :)

DJ

(c) DJ Stutley 2012

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