A Little Bird, A Big Reminder, and What Often Goes Unnoticed

Threads Of Eternal Truths

Dec 18, 2025

Dearest reader,

I’ve been sitting here trying to find the right words to tell you how much you mean to me, and for those of you who are new here and have only recently joined. Sometimes I overthink these posts, wanting them to feel just right, but the truth is I’m simply in the experience, living it day by day, and what matters most to me are the relationships we build along the way. Lately, one theme keeps showing up in my life: reciprocity. The quiet, beautiful give-and-take that happens when we truly see one another. In a world that’s always rushing toward some unknown “somewhere,” I find myself pausing more often, asking: where are we all hurrying to, exactly?

Just as I was drafting this, something made me stop. For the second day in a row, a bird flew straight into my window. I looked out and saw the poor thing sitting on the ground, stunned and shaken. My heart went out to it immediately. I closed my eyes and sent it healing energy. Moments later, its mate swooped in, landed nearby, watched, stayed close. It didn’t fly away. It just stayed present, caring, connected.

Birds Hitting Window — Did a bird just hit your window?

A little while later, I checked again. The stunned bird shook itself, stretched its wings, and flew off. Now, as I finish writing this, I can hear both of them outside, their playful voices singing. What started as a moment of shock transformed into one of resilience and celebration.

Watching that small, tender moment reminded me why relationships feel so sacred. Whether it’s two birds looking out for each other or you and me sharing this journey through these words, every interaction holds a mirror. In each person we meet, in every exchange, big or small, there’s a piece of ourselves reflected. A soul’s journey, I’ve come to believe, is really about remembering who we are through these reflections.

This moment in time brings me to something that feels essential, yet goes unnoticed: the different ways we each handle our inner wounds, our “complexes.” A few recent conversations with friends gave me a gentle nudge from the divine to lean into this topic. It started with me sharing an observation, and what unfolded felt like quiet guidance worth passing along.

I said: “It’s about the differences in how we interact with one another and what we each tend to focus on, the reactions we have to every experience. Men often project their complexes outward onto others, while many women internalize them, which can lead to shutting down emotions.”

My friend responded thoughtfully: “You’re right, it’s a fascinating lens. The contrast in how we experience, process, and respond to the same moments reveals so much about our conditioning and perhaps even our deeper nature. Both are protective responses in their own way, but neither truly heals the complex unless it’s brought into awareness and met with honesty and compassion.”

That exchange stayed with me. While there are patterns that show up differently across masculine and feminine energies (and yes, those differences matter), this isn’t about boxing anyone in by gender. It’s about recognizing the tendencies we all carry, to some degree, and the ways we protect ourselves when something unresolved is triggered.

Projection pushes the pain away; internalization pulls it deeper inside. Both keep us from fully feeling, seeing, and releasing what is necessary to heal. The real medicine, as my friend said, is awareness and compassion first toward ourselves, then toward the person standing before us, who might be mirroring exactly what we need to see. The simplest, most vital part of that medicine is taking the time to listen to one another. The currency of real connection isn’t material; it’s the moments we give a thoughtful reply, a gentle check-in, a quiet presence when someone shares something vulnerable. Those small acts of attention are what weave us together.

I want you to know that while I don’t send longer posts every day, and that’s never been my intention, it doesn’t mean you’re not on my mind. I think of this community often, holding space for each of you as I walk my own path with authenticity and genuine intention. You’ll also notice I share smaller pieces of myself through Notes on Substack, a little at a time, like breadcrumbs of presence. As a Projector in Human Design, my energy does not work for constant outflow; oversharing drains me quickly. So these shorter notes are my way of staying visible and connected without burning out, allowing me to keep showing up for you (and for myself) in a sustainable way. My hope is always to reflect a little more light, to help you see the radiance that’s already inside you, even on the days when it feels dim.

If this resonates, I invite you to pause and reflect. Notice the next time something triggers you, perhaps a comment from someone close, or an old familiar ache that rises. Instead of immediately projecting it outward or turning it inward to silence, breathe and ask: “What part of me is asking for recognition?” Offer it the same tenderness you’d give to a stunned bird waiting to retake flight. Hold space for it with compassion, without judgment. You might be surprised how quickly healing arrives and how joyfully your song returns.

So to all of you who’ve been here from the beginning and those who’ve only just arrived, thank you. Thank you for showing up, for reading, for commenting when something resonates, and for sharing parts of your journeys with me. The love and support I feel from this circle are among the greatest gifts of my life, and I don’t take a single one of you for granted. I’m grateful you’re here, walking this path alongside me.

With warmth and appreciation, Renell

P.S. If you need a steady stream of positive, intentional steps toward growth, I encourage you to follow some of my favorite kindred souls.—>