Today's Message from a Canary, Ted Andrews and White Eagle

From Ted Andrews:

Minstrel Brotherhoods existed in Europe during the Middle Ages. They were the first Minstrel Brotherhoods with a Canary as a totem animal in their signature, symbolism....
Those who have a canary as a totem may have had a past-life connection to these guilds.
From White Eagle:

Someone today will be awakened with a new song. Whether spoken, sung or merely contemplated with a simple hum can and will heal someone today. Use this same energy to enlighten, excite, stimulate, awaken manifest joy in your own life by using this gift. Aho!

From Uncle Willy:

I tried it. I cleared my throat and began warbling, no words, just sound and realized the power it brings to oneself. So sing, sing, sing this song, all night long, sing this song. (You just might turn into a Nightinggale, a rose and a song all at the same time....)

Before I had even read your post Wild Dove, I was with my love today visiting in the nursing home, I was humming a song.

HEAVEN #3300 Does the Bluebird Take Credit for His Singing?, December 7, 2009

God said:

I am sorry to tell you that pride is another name for ego. To take joy is not the same as ego. Being glad is not necessarily the same as ego.

It is, of course, a good thing to take pride in your family and country, and it is a good thing to value other families and countries as well. Take pride in your country, and take pride in all other countries.

It is a good thing to be glad of a job well-done. Value your work, and value the work of all others. That work which you consider lowly serves you. The one who kneels to shine another's shoes is no less than the one whose shoes are being shined. All are servants. Value everyone.

Does the bluebird take credit for his singing? Bluebirds simply do what bluebirds do. The bluebird says: "I sing to glorify the world, and not myself. I do not hold myself above even one other. I sing my song, and all others sing their song. I can only sing mine. Another can only sing his." Of course, the bluebird does not really think this. The bluebird really just sings for the glory of singing. How happy is a bluebird to be alive at this moment of the awakening sun.

It could be said that I gave to you right-handedness and to another, I gave left-handedness. Who is it that says one hand is loftier than another?

I gave someone the talent to be a comedian, and I gave to another the ability to laugh. How integral each is to the other.

To one I gave the ability to paint, and another cleans the brushes. The world values the painter more than the one who cleans the brushes. Of course, the world does not see as I do see. How do you see, beloveds?

The value of the painter is that he loves to paint and share his vision. He is doing what he loves to do. The one who washes the brushes may not be doing what he loves to do, and yet he too serves the painting.

You might say that the painter is luckier than the one who cleans the brushes, or you might say that the painter sought more than the cleaner of the brushes, and yet each is blessed with good fortune.

I created One Universe called Earth. It is One Universe. The one who paints and the one who cleans are two who fulfill their role in the Wholeness.

You may not know all you are contributing, and you may not know all that another is contributing, yet each contributes his significance to the Whole. Have awareness that each player in life has his importance. It is for you take pride in life itself, and perhaps less to the role you play.

Here's the thing, beloved. When you truly know your merit and the merit that lies in the world, you will have humility. You will not feel that it is urgent that you receive love and favor. When you know that you are paramount to Creation, what need would there be for you have to prove it to yourself or anyone?

All are blessed. I do not give My blessings more to one and less to another. I know it seems in the world that there are those who are blessed with greater good fortune than others. Know, once and for all, that all My love for you and others is My love, and My blessings are My blessings. You are equally loved. My heart loves. I love you. I love you. I love you. Under all circumstances, I love you. You are loved. I honor you, and I ask you to honor all.

Quote :

"....It is for you take pride in life itself, and perhaps less to the role you play.

Here's the thing, beloved. When you truly know your merit and the merit that lies in the world, you will have humility. You will not feel that it is urgent that you receive love and favor. When you know that you are paramount to Creation, what need would there be for you have to prove it to yourself or anyone?"

WELL SAID, SO SIMPLE, MEL, yet so often ignored...alas....we keep on carrying the torch (instead of bareing the burden). I always loved the phrase on old polio (I think) reminder posters: "He's not heavy. He's my brother!......"

More about "words" and their importance: COW-POKE COWBOYS aren't all red-necks, bigoted and prejudiced!!!

From my memoirs (about to be published here soon):



I had been living in France for over a year and hadn't heard from any of my friends back home for a long time when a letter from my best buddy came in the mail, telling me he planned to buy a ticket for me to go to the Pendleton Roundup (a rodeo in Oregon I had always wanted to go to but couldn't afford) with him and his wife. I was so excited I said I would find a way to get back home so I could go.

It was several months away, so there was time. I started looking for a piano job ( that's how I used to make extra money). I found a decent one about 30 miles from where I was living, but I had no car. I borrowed a motorcycle from a good friend of mine and learned how to drive it well enough to get me back and forth to work.

A couple of months later, I was driving home from work and suddenly saw two headlights coming straight at me. I swerved, but didn't get out of the way in time. I was pretty smashed up, looking like a piece of meat, on a set of skewers, ready for the barbecue, one leg from the ankle to the hip on one skewer and one arm from my fingers to my shoulder blade on the other skewer!. Things didn't go too well and finally I was sent back to the states much later, still connected to that weird apparatus for several more months. After I had been home a few days my buddy came over and saw the condition I was in. It wasn't too pretty. After a while we finally came down to the "ticket" and about going to that rodeo.

Particularly after the doctors said there was no way on god's earth that I would be able to sit up in a wheelchair in time for the rodeo, I became that much more determined to get there. They huffed and puffed a lot, saying it was even too soon to try to get out of bed, let alone out on the street with my leg propped up in a wheelchair extension. I could even jeopardize my chances for ever walking again or using my hands and fingers if I tried at that point to manoeuver a wheelchair on my own. According to "them", those chances seemed pretty slim already. The wounds where the damage was done, and where all the steel rods were inserted, were open and they weren't healing very well, either. I told Jim, if You're willing to roll me down there, I'm willing to try to make it out of this bed and into a wheelcair even if it'll kill me! He didn't say much. He just shook his head and promised he would do whatever he could for me. We left it at that.

I finally convinced my sis to get me a wheelchair to practise on. I was scared. That wheelchair sat at the foot of my bed a long time before I finally got up the courage to ask her and my brother-in-law to lift me out of bed into the chair, but they reluctantly "accommodated" me, in spite of their better judgement.

(I was a stubborn cuss in those days. I still am, although thanks in part to my stubborness, I really did beat all those odds and can now walk, play the piano and make images today--with a mouse instead of a brush, mind you, and an electronic piano with a midi-device instead of an acoustic one, but amazingly enough, I do better-made images and music than I ever did with my undamaged parts! I wasn't going to buy that crap that says You can't ever do what You used to do, or, You'll never be able to do that. As I told my mom, You didn't name me Will for nothing!)

By ten o-clock the morning Jim and his wife came by to pick me up and transport me into their van for the weekend roundup. I was able to make at least one turn and get about fifteen feet "down the road" by myself. I didn't tell him it had only been two hours since I had started practising. "Ok, I'm ready," I said (lied), as soon as he arrived. He dressed me, loaded me up and we were off.

Of course we were late, and the nearest parking to the stadium was over a mile a way. I said to Jim and Nancy, go on ahead, get your seats now or you won't be able to get in at all. I will find a way to make it on my own. I've gotten pretty good at this thing. Someone will come along and help me if I need it. (I didn't tell them I couldn't wheel myself more than fifteen feet without being in so much pain I might not be able to go any further. I lied again!)

They went on and there I was, by myself, sweating profusely with so much pain on my face after the first twenty feet or so, everyone and everything around me seemed to be clouded in tears. Then a miracle happened! People just started rolling me along until they had to go their own way. There were seven gates to choose from. How I got anywhere near the rear entrance where the performer's go I don't know.

A cowboy came by out of thin air, picked me up in his arms, folded up the wheelchair in his other arm and slung it over his shoulder. He said what's your ticket seat number? I told him and said, "You can't do this, You're supposed to be backstage. The rodeo has already started. I can hear it from here. Maybe my buddy will come for me during the break between performances, or maybe after a rest I can make it on my own."

I was thinking inside, I'm such a liar, a litttle wimp compared to this strong muscled guy. Why's he doing this for me? Wasn't he embarrassed to be seen with a grown man in his arms, tears streamin down my face? I just wanted him to put me down and leave. He would probably miss his competition too, I thought.

In those days, I used to think all professional cowboys were hard-nosed, red-neck jocks, you know, the macho types that make fun of effeminate artist-types like myself. They were pretty to watch, but the kind you'd never want to hang around with, I thought. They couldn't possibly understand people like me. But none of that was going through HIS head, I grant You that! He was different from any cowboys I had ever seen or watched on T.V. He didn't say much either, except: Hey You! Stop whining so much and worrying about me, I don't care if I'm on time right now. Its not that important, I think I'm late anyway. You can't make it to your seat on your own. Besides, you came here to see us perform. That makes You family. I'll make sure You'll be able to see us and get your money's worth.

I didn't hear anymore. All I could hear was, "You're family, You're family!" I'll never forget those words:



The rest is history! Slinging me over his shoulder just like he would a calf with its hind legs kickin in the air, he took me through the entrance where the calves and bulls come out onto the arena, right across the grass while a calf-roping event was going on. The crowd went wild, forgot about the event and began cheering us wildly as we went right down the center of the field. The announcer stopped his patter and said, 'Ladies and Gentlemen, I believe a miracle is happening right now out there on the field! Let's give those boys a big hand."

Then the cowboy set me down in the seat reserved for me and disappeared. Sure enough, when the rodeo was over for the day, he was there again for me. He took me to the Indian pageant across the fairgrounds, too. He knew I couldn't be rolled around in that chair without excruciating pain. He wasn't about to let that happen.. Once again, hardly a spoken word, only a smile. Then he was gone.To this day, I do not know who he was, but I'll never forget him!

I learned what the phrase " You're Family" REALLY meant. That there are good brothers and sisters everywhere, angels in disguise. Not all "cowboys" are mean-spirited, and not all cattlemen and timber-toppers are messing up our environment, nor do all native americans have it in for white folks. Not everyone is "out there" for themselves or for someone else, but many people, no matter how "different" they are from you, are there for you! And, BTW, whenever you see a picture of a The Man or an angel with his arms stretched out, inviting you in, maybe he needs YOU to fill them as much as you need to be carried! He just needs the practise!!!

That's it for now!

Wa' Sah nay! - Willy TwoHawk-