Free as a Bird

spackham

It's the first warm-ish day in a long time so I go outside to pull some weeds and water some plants in our backyard. It is a peaceful activity until I hear a few terrified screeches from a little bird that my cat, Misha, caught. I can see it's wings sticking out as it tries in vain to get away and then it folds them in and is silent, finally signaling defeat. I run over there calling out, "Misha, Misha, Misha!"

He thinks he has done a good thing and trots to the back porch. He did do a good thing, his teeth are only nestling the bird in place. It's alive! I grab hold of the bird and pry Misha's mouth open. He is reluctant but finally gives in and then begins to meow for the return of his prize.

I hold the bird, this cute and wild bird, while I stroke Misha telling him he is a good kitty. I don't want to ever let the bird go. Child-like dreams of putting it in a cage and taming my new pet flood over my mind with a million ideas. I can feel its heart beating frantically from the fear until it begins to grow calmer and more secure with its situation. I want to be able to hold the bird and look into its black eye, always. But I am not a child. I know the bird would not be happy in a cage and that I would not be happy keeping such a beautiful and free bird in a prison. I know I must let it go but part of me does not want to do it. "Not yet" a part of me cries out, "just a little longer." It is a hard choice but I know what I must do to be happy and at peace with myself.

I walk over to a tree in an attempt to help it grab on to a branch, even if for just a moment, before it flies away. The second I loosen my grib it flies out of my hand, through the branches and out of sight.

That bird is me. Fat and happy I was pecking away at food, thinking nothing about the dangers of being preoccupied with stuffing my face, ignoring the dangers of over-eating. In my carelessness, my quick and nimble body becomes fat and slow until the jaws of "consequences" grips me with the bite of painful feet, breathlessness at the slightest exertion, clogging arteries,you know the symptoms.

I cry out hoping to escape but I am held in the jaws of death. There is no quick and easy escape. I try and try to get away but I fail. I resign myself to the eventual doom yet to come.Yet, by the grace of God, His hand lifts me to a place where I find courage and determination to fly away and be free.

The iron grip of fatness no longer strangles me as my muscles get stronger and my body more healthy. I exercise and I eat well now. I still have weight to lose but I am free to feel good, to be happy, to buy smaller clothes, to become the real me. I am free to be as thin as I want as long as I am willing to pay the price. Life is full of choices but we cannot chose the consequences. Some days my body says to me, "Not yet, just a little longer in bed" but I know what I must do to be happy and at peace with myself. I fly to the gym. I am free.

Improvised

Happy to hear both birds are free.

humblemonkey

This is beautiful!

vsyates

What an awesome post - thank you.

disneymom94

Very well said-a thought for all of us to consider.

Learnin2LuvMe

Aww,i like this post..very nice!

ronda_gettinghealthy

I LOVE IT

juliapurpletoes

Beautiful metaphor, thank you for this

spackham

Thanks, everyone. That bird episode really happened today and I really do feel free even though I still have some work to do. I am free to run on a treadmill at 6mph now. That is freedom.

pinkgigi

Beautifully written, I really enjoyed your story. When you are listening you can hear the magic and wonder in the world, thank you so much for sharing.

GG