A bird’s eye perspective inspired by the Chisolme House
By Andy ‘SunBeAM’ Matheson
A bird’s nest is serious business! After flying around the skies and eating mistletoe berries all day, it is so very important for this Southern Arizonan bird to land each evening in a safe and secure bed of twigs, sticks and leaves for rest and regeneration to wake up in the Tucson (appropriately pronounced “two sun”) desert and do it all again the next day. This bird questions why this phenomenon of doing the same thing day after day is called “ground-hog day.” Shouldn’t it be “sky-bird day”? This ave will leave this rhetorical question for the reader to ponder at his or her leisure.(#John’s professorial wisdom and resemblance to Andy’s Pitzer College academic advisor.)
This is the story of the shining-robe phainopepla (#Sakeena, the Subtle Spirit who called me to her heart at Chisolme and gifted me a shiny feathery-soft housecoat) that found herself by sheer grace (#Grace, the artistic secretary with piercingly blue-lagoon eyes and dancing curls) in the Scottish Borders of the United Kingdom in August of this year, 2025. For bird-aficionados, they know it is the male phainopepla that dons the shiny black feather-dress (unlike the female covered in gray feathers), red eyes, and a white-winged patch only visible while in flight. But facts are only appearances, and this is a story based in Reality, where immanence and transcendence dissipate all apparent limitation. (#Hakim, the Divine Uncoverer, teaching that Reality encompasses that which is present in and beyond all manifestation).
This feathered-friend’s journey of more than 5000 miles and 55 years united her with her near-triplet sisters and dissolved the borders between Japan, the United States, and Brazil (#Ayumi born in 1970 the day after me and the Great Equalizer-not to be identified by name as requested- born the day before me) is a long one indeed, filled with a beginning, middle, and end. But for the sake of this poetic prose (#Robin, the poetic baker, filling our hearts with his poems and our bellies with homemade bread), replete with personal hidden “Easter eggs” for the people at Chisolme House to find their sweet contribution (#Lisa, continuously filling tins with homemade macaroons, shortbread biscuits and innumerable goodies throughout the week of Foundations of Natural Intelligence [FNI] and the two weeks of volunteering) within this tale, we will fly forward to the middle. If you have received a copy of this “search and find” frolic, you are cordially invited to rediscover the precious impact that you have made in this bird-lover’s lore. Those who have come upon this writing without familiarity of those mentioned in the hashtags, let your imagination run, or rather fly, wild.
First of all, let’s meet the protagonist of this bird’s eye tail (pun intended). This phainopepla songbird (#Kerim, playing his guitar to the delight of the night) identifies herself as Mo, a name she self-appointed because of her tall crest that looks like a mohawk cut, much like her Arizona cardinal friends. Mo has been found to imitate the calls of at least 12 other species of birds, including the red-tailed hawk and the northern flicker. (It’s true- Google it for yourself!) (#Jo, Hayley, Espi hearing the sweet songs-and Andy’s imitation thereof-of the mama and baby swallows perched in their nest-box cup at the entrance of the Steading) Mo has been on a quest for more than a half century to find her own song and “His” nest.
Wait a moment! Didn’t Mo say that she is female? What is this about “His” nest? From Ibn ‘Arabi/Balyani’s Know Yourself- An explanation of the oneness of being, the translator, Cecilia Twinch, clarifies in the section “Notes on gender- He”, that when it is God that is being referred to, as an ontologically active aspect of one Reality, ‘He’ continues to be used. Further, the translator emphasizes that the ultimate ineffable Reality is without gender. This is in accord with this sunbird’s (SunBeAM) storytelling, who also refers to God as “He” and “His.”
This quest ultimately culminated in Mo answering the call to land at Chisolme House. The Chisolme Institute offers a place wholly dedicated to the understanding that all existence is essentially one. Its exclusive concern with unity informs the life and work of the place, and all its residents and visitors. Chisolme is a fully immersive learning environment for anyone wishing to come to know their self- who they really are, beyond race and gender, religion and belief, in the light of such unity. This knowledge is transformational.” And for this birdie, So It Is, Was, and Will Always Be.
Mo favors grounding herself by eating the abundant provisions of the earth and fluttering about, amongst the canopy of lush trees. Chisolme’s garden and the meal/coffee/tea schedule never left Mo peckish in the least. (#Mark, nurturing every sprouting seed and blossoming plant and #Alison, watering every pea pod and broadbean on the grounds with her loving heart, whilst #Javier, serenading the seedlings to emerge from the soil by his breath swirling through his flute.)(#Hiroko, embodying the ‘Notice to Cooks’ by repeatedly demonstrating the harmonious composition of artistic value by providing the best possible means of an ingredient’s expression, awareness and value of life.) Even after the feasts, the grounds never appeared other than pristine with every thing in its place and a place for everything. (#Sarah E., effortlessly and efficiently washing up and sharing a tender moment as the namesake of a beloved child of mine that only resided in my womb for a short season. The story of the repeatedly empty womb healed with the adoption of my son James, 21 years ago who shares the same birthday, August 29, with #Jethro.)
Mo found her way through an artistic garden home with trails cut by an uprooted tree with exposed roots, adorned with threads of blossoms and poetic pathways, which from above resembled landscapes of gentle streams emptying into a calm sea. The sacred geometrical routes guided Mo to a wooden bench that donned a sign, “She was here,” (#Jili’s stunning and curated wonderland and wooly-soft, gentle heart comforting my soul) and overlooked the small lake upon which two swans and three cygnets gracefully bobbed. Floral arrangements at every turn on the estate, thoughtfully and intricately displayed, extended the gardens from the exterior to the interior. (#Sarah C., continually creating beauty with her servant and blossom heart; #Simon, a silent angel, gliding with a watering can, tending to the potted blooms).
Chisolme offered so many songs of the soul, including the Thursday night sacred ceremony of joining in sound/breath (whoooooo) and movement. (#David/BeLoveD of God, leading this union-of-the-heart dance which catapulted me into communion with the Divine, allowing me to be free of the body and soar beyond the earth’s atmosphere.) The ultimate gift for Mo was the realization that she needed not her own individual song, but rather the infinite Beshara Song of Love. Instead of building a static nest, Mo was welcomed eternally to make Chisolme her place before time began and after time disappeared. (#Jules, sharing her wisdom at the colorful, patchwork cloth-covered dining table, reminding me I was already home- exactly where I needed to be in the present moment.)
As Mo approached the moment to take flight from Chisolme, she realized the short time remaining to engage with the “others” who were also seeking to find God, the hidden treasure that loved to be known and so He created the world. (#Rose, courageously confronting the deep challenges with complete willingness to heal despite the discomfort; #Kawther, surrendering as she unknotted an entangled delicate necklace by gently rubbing it with open hands; #Nuriya, illuminating the path of knowledge; #Jae/Jaime, who fueling his engine with silence; #James, the playful child rolling on the front lawn; #Charlotte, the Loving Nurturer feeding our souls with her exquisite culinary creations; #Kerim, extending his Strong Strings by holding the yurts together; #Fatima, being the timeless reflection of Love with her youth and wisdom of the ages; #Paul, the Cosmic Swimmer bathing with the swans and riding the train of star-filled nights; and Andy the kettle calling itself back).
So now, as this tale settles like a fluttering feather awaiting the next breeze to guide her on the continuing journey In Search of His Nest to Rest, I send all my gratitude and love to One and All….