This is me. I am Bird Britt. Well, that was me, but you certainly can still identify me by my strong left-brow game. Looking at the photo it appears I started out living life as an ornery nervous wreck with scratches on my face and unkempt hair…and spoiler alert, not much has changed! So there I am and here you are. You are here because you chose to be and likely because you were given permission to read some pretty private thoughts in my Open Journal and can come and go as you please. This is the very aspect that inspired me to do this and so I did this for you, and all the other curious cats. Do not thank me yet. I also did this for me. I need this. And so I thank you first. Taking a peek into my brain and stream of consciousness is no easy feat (just be thankful you are not in a text exchange with me where you feel obligated to reply…you know who you are) and you are free here. We all are. 

Confession hour: I did not always love birds as I love them now and also, I have no idea how I am going to tackle this Open Journal. There are things in life I am very clear with myself about. One of those things is being honest about what I am not good at. The key things I struggle with are: driving a motorcycle, understanding family trees, spacial recognition, being concise in the expression of thoughts, and now WORDPRESS. Forgive my website and layout it will get better as I learn to ask for help, which is another thing I am not good at..my list grows, shocker! However, I do know that just as it took me some time to appreciate birds after my first encounter which left a mark…I too will find a way to do this. My Open Journal will evolve and I will as well. I will learn to be comfortable and appreciate being publicly vulnerable and hold myself accountable to writing to become who I was intended to be. I will find my way through this and I will be better for it, you on the other hand…Please note I will never attempt to drive a motorcycle again as I found myself at the bottom of a hill in Portland, Oregon with a motorcycle lying on me while my classmates ran after me and looked down to see me shaking in hysterical laughter while questioning if this was just another day for me. Of course, it was just another day for me. Scratches on my face and unkempt hair laughing when I should have been crying.  

Let me tell you about my first memorable bird encounter before I part. I can recall climbing an oak tree with my brother and stumbling upon a nest of Mockingbird nestlings. Naturally, there was also a momma bird who was up for the battle she thought she faced to protect her babies. Mockingbirds do not mess around, they do not back down and you do not get to innocently stumble upon their nests without consequence. Momma did her thing, pecking at our heads and necks relentlessly and making an awful sound with every swooping dive bomb that she nailed 10 out of 10. I now have nailed the same sound she made after becoming a mother and I too give myself a 10 out of 10…

In the following years, I often found myself getting shat on by birds at the most inopportune times. Once when I was walking into the courthouse for a ticket that came via mail with a photo of proof…I was pregnant with my twin sons and trying to get something out of my teeth while speeding and driving without hands (I suppose now after I wrote that out I realize I deserved the ticket…the cruel photo they captured, printed, and mailed to me on the other hand…), others while enjoying a nice meal outside instead of the many outdoor dining experiences spent across from some schmuck I could have used an excuse to leave, and sometimes when passing someone on the street who I wanted to “impress”. Thankfully none of them ever made my jaw drop because who wants to risk getting bird poop in their mouth, but also because having a white substance around my mouth when strutting may have put a price tag on my head and I would end up with another ticket for attempting to charge for what causes one to end up pregnant with twin sons. Although I bet the photo would have been killer. 

One day someone told me it was good luck for a bird to poop on you, and being as I am a spiritual person I held on to it. I have not been “blessed” in bird feces much since, so I take that as a sign that I was drawn towards noticing the birds in whatever way they could get my attention and then the message was given to me so I may start looking at the experience differently and learn their flight of peace and beauty. I like finding the upsides to the things I struggle with in life and almost always end up falling in love with some aspect of what was once my pain. In a sense, birds were no exception. And that is my love story with birds. I appreciate them because I found a way to look at them for what they are and identify that in myself… I too: like to shit on people during the most inopportune times for them ????, am a fiercely protective mother for all children in the world, fly where I need to to see the big picture and every detail rather than choose one and find beauty in the freedom of flying away and landing where it feels right. For these reasons I am Bird Britt…the little bird that told you…