After an evening of wrestling with my book keeping, I woke up in a bit of a funk. Without thinking too much about my mathematics dyslexia ( is there even such a thing?), I pulled my wellies on, grabbed the dog leads and hurried the hounds into the car.
Whenever I feel like this, frustrated and gloomy, I know a good stomp through woodlands and across acres of land with the ridgebacks, will get rid of my TANtrums.
Little did I know I was going to spend time with a feathered friend.
As the ridgebacks did their thing, darting from field to field chasing rabbits, a flash of red caught my eye. There, perched on the fence, was a robin. It’s presence was so captivating, almost as if it was waiting for me. His body language was a silent invitation, almost nudging me for a chat. This charming little creature made me stop in my tracks.
The dogs were ahead playing happily. So I stopped. Took my phone out so I could take a few photos - which he quite happily posed for. But there was something intriguing about this particular bird. In that moment, I felt an unspoken connection. It was as though the robin was saying “Come sit with me, tell me why you’re feeling so frustrated with your book keeping, let’s take a moment”.
Here I was about to start a conversation with my new little friend. Checking no other dog walkers were in sight, because I’m sure they’d be thinking I’d lost the plot. As he kept munching on his bird seed, I got closer, marvelling at his character whilst he watched me watching him.
The robin’s body language exuded a sense of comfort and trust, as if it had decided to share his morning routine with me. It’s beady eyes looked deep into my soul and my shoulders relaxed instantly. What a moment!
Why are robins such special birds? Perhaps it’s their unique ability to forge connections with us humans. They mesmerise us, with their welcoming demeanour and their symbolic significance of hope. This particular robin had a gift, a certain power to make me pause, to appreciate the beauty in the world and forget about my financial headaches.
I could have quite easily passed him by, missing his enchanting presence and our silent dialogue. But he grabbed my attention and without realising it, he put me back together again. Thanks to the robin, I think I can I’ll be able to do a little more book keeping without having a tantrum.
Until the next time
Take care & stay safe xx
Math dyslexia is called dyscalculia. And yes it’s totally a thing!
The Robin wanted us all to see them today! 💕