Each morning, one of my first chores is to let the ducks out. I call it a chore, as it’s something that needs to be done, and sometimes I don’t feel like it. I want to stay in bed a little longer, snug beneath my warm duvet, which ironically is made with duck down! But I get up and do it, because I’m a responsible human being and I want to be a good custodian to that which I am lucky enough to have guardianship over.

If I think about it, it’s actually not a chore, but more of a blessing. Because I get to experience the beautiful dawn. That wonderful time just before and after sunrise, when the light is constantly changing and the air is crisp and fresh. Nature is waking up to the new day with energy and enthusiasm, which in turn inspires me.

On a particularly atmospheric morning last week, I let the ducks out as usual, and as they raced up the lawn singing their morning quack song, happy to be out and free, I saw an unusual lump of moss on the ground beside a bush. I went over and carefully picked it up, only to discover it was the most beautiful and perfect birds nest. I cupped it carefully in my palms and just gazed at it’s magnificence, as by body responded with that unmistakably warm fuzzy feeling of awe.

It felt like I had been given such a sacred and special gift. I sat down on the patio with it and just gazed at the workmanship. It had been so perfectly created by a tiny creature with only a beak and two feet as tools. The construction was exquisite. Dried stems intricately woven into a spherical basket, reinforced with moss, and lined with fluff and feathers. A lovingly made home for a new family. It looked fragile, but was actually strong and solid. No instruction manual either, just an innate knowing. Such a treasure. It’s not the first time I’ve been lucky enough to find one. But each time feels just as special and blows my mind all over again. Perhaps they appear when I need to be reminded of something, or do a bit of re-evaluation. A little wake up call from the universe to sit up and take notice.

This one got me thinking about a couple of things. Firstly it reminded me of the pure joy I get from creativity. Having been away from home, and my art supplies for a few weeks, I was busting to get back into my studio and make something. I had some pottery orders waiting for me, and was more than happy to get going on those, which also kept my mind off the jet lag.

But the birds nest reminded me to be more spontaneous and intuitive with my creativity. To listen to my soul whispers and create from the heart. I need to put aside more time for play and experimentation.

The other thing that struck me about this nest was the softness and fragility of such a solid and functional structure. It felt like me. A capable adult, partner and mother, keeping the home in order, feeding and caring for the family. I am seemingly strong and on top of things, yet my softness and vulnerability are hidden beneath my external facade.

What would it be like to have it fully exposed like the birds nest. To unashamedly display all the parts of me that make me whole. Life can make us hard. But wouldn’t it be nicer to keep the softness?

I would like to be able to show up in some moments in a more fragile way. To experience the vulnerability of not knowing, of feeling afraid or unsure, without any negativity associated with this. To be held, cared for and encouraged in this space, while I get my bearings and work things out. Instead I often find myself barking and snarling like a cornered dog, who then bolts for its den to lick its wounds. This is not my best self, and not who I want to be in the world.

So these are my messages from the birds nest…stay soft, playful and spontaneous. Be open to possibility and surround myself with people who will hold a space for me to be present in a vulnerable way. Show all the bits that make me who I am, because that’s how we can see the beauty.