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Gay Bradshaw

The Duck and the Ego

By Mariposa Reflections

T his week we delve further into what the experience of ego and egolessness might be, and how our nonhuman kin, while living with a full sense of self, are not compelled to close over natural openness with the shell of separation.

 

In the third chapter of Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Alice and a medley of Animals stand together trying to figure out how to get dry. [1] They had all become drenched to the skin from slipping into the pool of tears that was created by a distraught young Alice when she had eaten a little cake and grew to “ten feet tall.” [2] The Mouse in the group had an idea of how to solve their soggy situation. His solution was to give a lecture on English history because history, the Mouse asserted, “is the driest thing I know.”

“Edwin and Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria,” the Mouse began, “declared for him: and even Stigand, the patriotic archbishop of Canterbury, found it advisable—

“’Found what?’ said the Duck. `Found it,’ the Mouse replied rather crossly: `of course you know what “it” means.’ `I know what “it” means well enough, when I find a thing,’ said the Duck: `It’s generally a frog or a worm. The question is, what did the archbishop find?’ “

Likely, the Duck would also question the meaning of another abstraction—“ego.” Although it may not be visible, the ego is something palpable that we experience whether we know “it” or not. Perhaps it’s easiest to grasp what the ego is by first experiencing what egolessness might feel like.

Think back to the feeling when, for example, you were walking down the street and suddenly, you see an old, dear friend whom you had not seen for many years, or, after waiting anxiously at the clinic to hear results of your Dog’s operation, he bursts through the door and runs into your arms. At these moments, everything in the mind seems to vanish. Pure joy breaks through any mental and emotional blocks. There is crystal clear connection. As Charlie Russell put it, “no one and nothing else matters.”[3].

But, too often, the ego steps back in and takes over. Almost instantly, even though your arm wraps around the shoulder of your long lost friend or as you and your Dog lovingly make your way home, old stories, worries, and schedules start to creep back and fill the mind. Before you know it, the sun of the golden present is covered by the preoccupying past and future. Moments of union—the indivisible us, the experience of a world beyond ego—are replaced by separating “yous,” “mes,” and “thems.” Ego resists taking a backseat in life.

Nonetheless, these tiny, but momentous, gaps between the fortressed ego and the spaciousness of awareness provide a taste of egolessness. They are breadcrumbs of realization which, if we follow, can lead us to life’s substrate of oneness. Unobstructed moments of our true self sans ego, which meditation, prayer, and mindfulness invite, are portals into unconditional love, a quality and state of egolessness.

As we heard the London teacher, Kendra, speak about the Gecko with whom she lives: “He always loves me just the way I am,” Animals are often described as showing unconditional love. Certainly, humans are rarely or never met with condemnation from a forest of Pines and Fir. Unless they have been abused or grievously harmed, nonhumans do not seem compelled to paper over others with labels and judgement—they retain an open, present self. As Dame Daphne Sheldrick testifies, their capacity to forgive, the refusal to don the armor of ego, is breathtaking:

“During the 50 plus years that I have been intimately involved with Elephants in Africa, and the rearing of over 80 orphans, I am astounded about how forgiving they are, bearing in mind that they are able to recollect clearly that their mother, and sometimes entire family, have perished at the hands of humans. . . .And since Elephants never forget (which is a fact), they demonstrate a level of forgiveness that a human would in all likelihood have difficulty in achieving.”[4] A decade later, the Sheldrick Trust has rescued 263 forgiving orphans.[5]

By relaxing into Nature consciousness—releasing ourselves from the grip of ego to re-join the rest of the unbroken cosmos—we become part of the unconditional love that surrounds us. When awareness is allowed to shine without the vigilance of ego, we begin to hear what the whispering wind and gaze of a Raven are telling us. We learn what it means to become Nature again.

Putting Practice into Action

While sitting in prayer or meditation, indoors or outside, explore if and how your perception of a Tree, your family Cat or Dog, or other being begins to shift. When you recognize that these beings are as (or more) aware and conscious as you, does this change how you behave? Share these ideas and your experiences with family and friends and discuss concrete ways in which Nature consciousness can infuse every day human life to support Nature.

Learn More

[1] Carroll, L. 1865. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Macmillan.
[2] Slick, G. 1967. White Rabbit (song). https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WANNqr-vcx0; retrieved 20 November 2021
[3] Bradshaw, G.A. 2020. Talking with Bears: Conversations the Charlie Russell. Rocky Mountain Books.
[4] Bradshaw, G. A..2009.  Elephants on the Edge: What Animals Teach Us about Humanity (pp. 115-116). Yale University Press.
[5] The David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust. 2021. Retrieved from https://www.sheldrickwildlifetrust.org/

Photo Credit: Biel Morro

~ Dedicated to Tommy ~

Mariposa Reflections is a weekly e-post paired with Mariposa Meditations, a biweekly online Nature mindfulness and meditation gathering. Sign up here to receive weekly Mariposa Reflections. Learn more and register for Mariposa Meditations here.

The Mountains Are In Us.

By Mariposa Reflections

W elcome to Mariposa Reflections! In our first post, we begin by exploring how the intersection of science and contemplative practices reveals the portal for deep connection with Plant and Animal kin. When mind and body relax and the thoughts and emotions to which we cling, fade, the I/other gap of separation created by the ego falls away and pure awareness emerges into the presence where Nature lives.

 

Let’s start out with these three quotes:

He loves me just the way I am.” – Kendra
She is there for anyone at any moment, with empathy and love.”- Andrew
No matter what happens, he lives in harmony, centered, and nonjudgmental.” –  Jeremy

Are these testimonies of love for a cherished friend, partner, or spiritual teacher? The answer is “yes” and “no.” Kendra, Andrew, and Jeremy are three humans talking about Animals in their lives: Kendra about her Gecko, Andrew, a White-Tailed Deer, and Jeremy, a Crane living on a Kenyan lakefront beach. Yet, they speak of something more than companionable care.

If you listen carefully, these descriptions echo such qualities as Buddhism’s metta (lovingkindness) in the Gecko, the Hopi value of nami’nangwa and Islam’s rahmah (compassion) in the Deer, and hózhǫ́, the philosophical heart of the Diné, in the Kenyan Crane. Their human friends agree – and so does science.

Among neuroscientists, finding qualities formerly assumed uniquely human is unsurprising. Animals are used routinely to study human minds precisely because we share comparable neuro-capacities. This scientific understanding was openly reified in 2005 with the diagnosis of Complex Post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD) in free living Elephants, and seven years later, in 2012, when eminent neuroscientists and Nobel Prize winner Stephen Hawking declared that all vertebrate and invertebrate Animals are conscious. [1,2,3] But, there is much more to this realization. Fundamental species’ differences do not derive from unequal minds, but from how these minds are used. While human minds create thoughts that lead to guns and genocide, Salmon, Eagles, Elephants, and Oaks, do not. Why not? Animals and Plants feel and think, but they do not lose themselves in ego.

Eckhart Tolle defines ego in this way: the identification with form that includes thoughts, emotions, and the material body, all of which disappear with death. [4] When we identity with stories of past and future thoughts, emotions, and beliefs, we disconnect from the present. Our minds contract into a bubble of isolation, our ego, and our seamless connection with the world is cut. Our perception of Nature, experiences, and relationships are reduced to objects whose value and meaning are defined from inside our egoic fortress. Accumulated over time and maintained through custom and culture, ego became collectively codified as civilization, defining humanity as apart from and superior to Nature. In stillness and meditation, however, when ego retreats, pure awareness is allowed to shine in the unobstructed present. This is where the Animals live. This is where we re-discover that our true nature is Nature. This is where we listen and learn how to be Nature, again.

Surprisingly, science has ended up partners with contemplative traditions in dismantling the human ego. By demoting the primacy of the human species through its democratization of consciousness, science has also demoted the primacy of form. One species is no “better” than another species. One form is no “better” than another form. Fur, feather, skin and scale are merely beautiful, diverse costumes that temporarily clothe consciousness. This is what John Muir evokes when he wrote, “We are now in the mountains and they are in us.” [5]

Next week, we delve further into how the human ego affects connections with Nature consciousness.

Home Reflections

Sit or lie somewhere quiet, indoors or outdoors. When you are settled and comfortable, close your eyes and gently bring attention to your breath. Don’t try to change it- just lightly lay your attention on the in and out breaths. Notice any tension in your body, your shoulders, neck, legs, and use your out-breath to relax your mind and body. After a few minutes, sit or stand near a Tree or if indoors, bring up an image of a Tree you know, someone you may pass every day on the way to work or one who lives in your backyard. Or instead, you might listen and feel the wind. Refrain from thinking about the Tree or the Wind. Just keep relaxed and hold the image or sensation as you breathe naturally in and out. If your mind becomes active or emotions begin to rise, return to your breath, and then bring your attention back to the “real” or imaged Tree or Wind. Listen to the Tree (or feel the Wind). What do you hear? What are you experiencing? Try this practice over the week and watch if any shifts or changes in your perception develop.

Putting Practice into Action

Learn about your Tree by asking and listening in to the Tree to see s/he is in any danger or need. Support and explore what other Trees and Forests are in need of protection.

Learn More

[1] Bradshaw, G. A. (2005). Elephant trauma and recovery: From human violence to liberation ecopsychology (Doctoral dissertation, Pacifica Graduate Institute).
[2] Bradshaw, G. A. (2009). Elephants on the edge: What Animals tech us about humanity. Yale University Press.
[3] Low, Philip, et al. (2012). The Cambridge declaration on consciousness. Francis Crick Memorial Conference, Cambridge, England.
[4] Tolle, E. (2006). A new earth: Awakening to your life’s purpose. Penguin Group.
[5] Muir, J. (1911). My first summer in the Sierra. Houghton Mifflin.

Mariposa Reflections is a weekly e-post paired with Mariposa Meditations, a biweekly online Nature mindfulness and meditation gathering. Sign up here to receive weekly Mariposa Reflections. Learn more and register for Mariposa Meditations here.

Ground Squirrel Aesthetics

By The Tutortoise

Looking back, I have learned that it is the unexpected which has had the greatest influence in my life. Often, these events happen quietly, as if in respectful consideration of coming consequences. So it was, one early fall day.

I was sitting where forest meets field, enjoying the peace of near-sunset. Autumn daylight hours are shorter than those of summer’s green, but they seem much longer. Perhaps, the evening is tricked by the sun’s sleight of hand which make the pockets of sunlight lingering in the scatter of red and orange leaves seem like daylight still reigns.

It was at that moment of celestial pause when my gaze happened upon the Black Oak—the aged centurion standing guard next to our tiny cabin. Beside the Tree is a tall basalt rock. Atop it that evening was another kind of sentinel, a Ground Squirrel.

He was standing on two tiny-clawed feet, hands clasped high on his chest, staring out over the field. His face wore a transcendent expression of awe and appreciation. There was no mistaking that the Ground Squirrel was—similar to me—taking in the beauty of the day’s last light. He was in rapture.

This realization was startling. Before this, Ground Squirrels were not on my best friend list. They intruded on everything and everyone. Nothing and no one was safe. They shamelessly and fearlessly push away full grown Deer and Wild Turkeys to get at the seed spread out on the grass. They ravage shoes, boxes, bags—anything that serves for their nests. The cabin’s dining room floor sank a good eight inches underneath the iron wood stove after vigorous Ground Squirrel tunneling. In all fairness, how were they to know, or care, that the pioneer-aged cabin was built directly on Nature’s skin and that their work would eventually open a crack large enough for the slender form of a Rattlesnake to enter the room and take residence under a chair next to the kitchen. I regarded Ground Squirrels as marauders—cute, but marauders all the same.

All these less than positive thoughts vanished when I discovered Ground Squirrel aesthetics. Suddenly, the objectifying wall behind which I stood, vanished. But, the moment passed quickly. In that short space of time, when the day’s gold became evening’s gray, the Squirrel left for home.

Brief as the encounter was, my perception of Ground Squirrels and life shifted. My sense of reality changed; its centroid sank into a space far and away from the choppy surface waters of conceptual mind to the depths of quiet. This is where I had crossed paths with the Doe.

When the Doe and I met, it was an awakening to Nature consciousness. I became aware that the space of soy este where I had occupied during the majority of my childhood, was where I interacted and shared with Animals and Trees. The resonance that the Doe had woken, opened wider when I met Asa. Until then, while I meditated, I sat in the space where the Doe and I had met, in the vista of soy este. Asa changed this.

She demanded that I move, go further, walk with her in this space. So I did. I made a point of going to Ground Squirrel zendo—to the grassy slopes that roof their burrowed castles, the places they dig and plant their stores, under the Oak and Pine Trees where the Deer rest in the heat of day. I followed the Squirrels – as best I could – as not only are they remarkable agile, but Ground Squirrels have a knack of telescoping their seemingly boneless bodies and vanishing, snakelike, into hairline cracks. This was more than a tracking exercise. Asa wanted me to see her world from her point of view, travel, sense, see and smell Nature the way she did.

Animals are often referred to as “teachers,” but that has not been my experience. Although Asa and friends purposefully helped me, I do not believe they see me as a student— a somewhat limited, unschooled friend, perhaps, but not a student. Their profound ethic of equality and equanimity precludes any sense of hierarchy upon which humans always seem to insist.

Of course, Ground Squirrels and other Animals know the difference between a human and one of their own. Yet, as I experienced Asa, the real medium of connection lay far deeper, well below form, beneath the individual suits we wear. She demanded something more from me than had the Doe. Asa commanded me to take a step deeper, drop another veil of human privilege – the composite of imperceptible barriers which tell us that we, humans, are different and apart from Ground Nature.

First encounters together stretched from many minutes to much longer. During these sessions, Asa would periodically return to her burrow under the Douglas Fir, store a few berries, then return next to me to resume breaking bread. she was one of many Squirrels who regularly raided hearth and home, but unlike others, she had a head tilt. While she foraged well enough, the disease or injury-caused condition put her at some disadvantage. We soon took to meeting in the evenings and sharing morsels of baguette, berries, and wine (the latter I saved for myself). It became a daily ritual. The other Squirrels obviously understood the exclusive nature of our meetings, as they never tried to partake of Asa’s fare.

When Summer eased into Fall, Asa’s visits shortened until one day, she did not return. By that time, the train of storms had begun to roll by and the Squirrel community had—as their name bespeaks—gone to ground to hibernate. Because Ground Squirrels sometimes venture out briefly when the cold temporarily lifts, I put a few berries and a piece of baguette at Asa’s door. Once, I was lucky enough to spot her coming out to retrieve her goods. She poked her head out, looked at me—head tilted to one side, the upside eye meeting mine—then dragged the food in and disappeared. It was the last time I saw her.

I don’t know whether she died during or after hibernation. It is possible that when she emerged she was grabbed by a Fox, Bobcat or Raccoon. Sometimes, drowsing Ground Squirrels are dug out by hungry omnivores. Other than her head tilt she showed no signs of decline, and by the season’s end she was quite plump. But, Ground Squirrels and Bears are known to pass in their sleep.

I don’t think I have ever grieved so deeply. It was not the acute, piercing, debilitating kind of grief which has possessed me on other occasions. The grief for Asa was a soft pain, a headache at the level of the soul. To this day, I mourn her.

I no longer mutter in frustration when I see the Ground Squirrels push their way to Turkey seeds or scramble up the water heater in the garage to tear apart more ceiling insulation for their nests. These days, I go out of my way to support the Ground Squirrel community by putting food at their burrow entrances and handfuls of combed-out Dog, Rabbit, and Cat fur to line their nests.

I hope when Asa and I meet again, I will have evolved to Ground Squirrel consciousness.

Elephant at sunset

Paying Attention

By The Tutortoise

A Maple reaching more than forty feet stands just outside the studio. The tree is statuesque and elegant. Every year, as summer begins to wane, our game begins. I try and catch the Maple turning color. It starts off easy. For several weeks, the change from green to pink proceeds leaf by leaf at a measured pace. I keep a careful watch, checking every so often to assess the progression of color.

Then, suddenly, it happens. One day, despite my vigilance, I look out in dismay to find that the Maple has transformed from a green gown spattered with pink to a vestment colored entirely in the warmth of reds. It is another year of defeat. Disappointed, I concede victory to the Maple. I cannot help but detect a smile of satisfaction beaming from the delicate folds of her leaves.

The game with the Maple is a lesson in attention, and my lack, thereof. The Maple does not transform overnight. It only appears so because my attention has strayed. The tricky thing is, I don’t realize that my awareness has drifted away and that I have failed to notice the passage of time since I last scrutinized the Maple. The Tortoises do not have this problem.

You might say that they are ectothermically hard-wired to their surroundings unhampered by the endothermic buffering of our species. By the time I notice the Maple leaves turning, the Tortoises are well into their preparation for brumation (reptilian hibernation). They perceive the minute shifts in light which begin after Summer Solstice, what is imperceptible to the human eye or silenced by an overactive mind over matter.

Not all of the fifteen Tortoises respond to the seasonal shift in the same way. I think the differences derive from a number of factors—age, experience, and personality. Qaletaqa, who is thought to be the oldest, nearing 70, is a confident brumator. As the summer slides into fall, he moves in and out of his burrow, eats or does not eat, with military precision. Tangekwanu, on the other hand, is in his late teens. His regime is less routine, more tentative, perhaps because he was made captive before he could acquire the cultured assurance that Qaletaqa developed after years of living through temperamental climes.

States of health also play a crucial role. When they arrived in sanctuary four years ago, the Tortoises were in precarious health. The majority were “pulled” from brumation halfway through the winter because of poor health. During dreamtime, we quietly lift them from their hay filled hibernacula every two to three weeks to weigh them. If they are losing too much weight too fast, they are taken from their cool slumber, gradually warmed, soaked in rehydrating tepid water, and offered food. If this fails to brighten them, the Shelled Wonders are chauffeured for a medical exam and treatment. Last year was a good year. All slept through the six months and emerged ready to conquer the world.

You don’t have to be an ectotherm to hear Nature’s pulse. The Deer and Turkeys are as hot-blooded as any human, but are also skillfully tuned to the nuanced patterns of the wild. They have to be. Their lives depend on it.  So do ours.

Episode Twelve: Bird Psyches

By Bird Show podcast

This week’s bonus-length episode marks the culmination of our first season of the Bird Show, and we chose a topic worthy of this special occasion: Bird Psyches.  We’ve seen throughout the Bird Show how adept avian beings are at just about everything.  Today we dive beneath the surface to discover the psychological world of Birds.  Dr. Gay Bradshaw joins the flock for a fascinating conversation covering everything from trauma recovery to her lifelong journey with Panama, the Yellow-naped Amazon Parrot.

If you enjoy Dr. Crow’s Bird Show, please rate, review, and subscribe on YouTube or wherever you listen to podcasts.  And if you know any fellow Bird nerds who you think will enjoy the show, please send them our flockin’ way.

 

Special Guest:  Dr. Gay Bradshaw, Founder & Director of The Kerulos Center for Nonviolence

 

Flocking News article — Early Experiences Determine how Birds Build their First Nest

Article on Brain Structure — Bird Brain? Ounce for Ounce Birds have Significantly more Neurons in their Brains than Mammals or Primates

Article on Trauma Recovery — Avian Affective Dysregulation: Psychiatric Models and Treatment for Parrots in Captivity

 

Co-Host: Luca the Blue and Gold Macaw

Logo Artwork: Teal Michaels

Music: The Deviants

 

Have ideas for the show?  Send them to crowbirdshow@gmail.com

To support the Bird Show, visit The Kerulos Center for Nonviolence at www.Kerulos.org

Episode Eleven: Sun Conures

By Bird Show podcast

On today’s episode, we’re shining a light on Sun Conures (also known as Sun Parakeets), a charismatic species whose feathers are as bright as their personalities.  Through the eyes of co-host Gir, we’ll explore what it’s like to be a Conure in captivity: the ups, downs, and in-between.  These beautiful birds are endangered in the wild, making this a rare opportunity to get to know Sun Conures on a whole ‘nother level.

If you enjoy Dr. Crow’s Bird Show, please rate, review, and subscribe on YouTube or wherever you listen to podcasts.  And if you know any fellow Bird nerds who you think will enjoy the show, please send them our flockin’ way.

Flocking News article — Exploring the Pet-tential Benefits of Being Stuck at Home with Furry Friends

Info about 2016 Recovery Project in Guyana — Keep the Suns Shining in Guyana: Recovering the Sun Conure (Sun Parakeet)

 

Co-Host: Gir the Sun Conure

Logo Artwork: Teal Michaels

Music: The Deviants

 

Have ideas for the show?  Send them to crowbirdshow@gmail.com

To support the Bird Show, visit The Kerulos Center for Nonviolence at www.Kerulos.org

Episode Ten: Bird Senses

By Bird Show podcast

Birds are known for their acute vision and sense of hearing, but what about their other senses? For instance, did you know that Parrots have more taste buds than the average bird? And that it’s not necessarily the Owl’s ears that help her hear so well? Find out about these fascinating facts on today’s Bird Show, where we explore the sensational world of avian perception.

If you enjoy Dr. Crow’s Bird Show, please rate, review, and subscribe on YouTube or wherever you listen to podcasts.  And if you know any fellow Bird nerds who you think will enjoy the show, please send them our flockin’ way.

Flocking News article — These Birds Have Been Found to Warn Rhinos of Poaching—And It Could Help Protect the Species

Articles on Bird Pheromones — The Perfume of Reproduction in Birds: Chemosignaling in Avian Social Life; Insectivorous Birds Eavesdrop on the Pheromones of Their Prey

 Special Guest:  Abby Couture, Student Intern from McGill University

 

Co-Host: Chipmunk the Ameraucana Chicken

Logo Artwork: Teal Michaels

Music: The Deviants

 

Have ideas for the show?  Send them to crowbirdshow@gmail.com

To support the Bird Show, visit The Kerulos Center for Nonviolence at www.Kerulos.org

Episode Nine: Bowerbirds

By Bird Show podcast

Meet one of Nature’s greatest artists: The Bowerbird.  Bowerbirds are known for their intricate courtship displays, which include seductive dances and next-level interior design skills. Discover what it takes to build your own bower (Luca and I will tell you—it’s harder than it looks!) and find out what these fascinating, feathery architects have to tell us about climate change.

If you enjoy Dr. Crow’s Bird Show, please rate, review, and subscribe on YouTube or wherever you listen to podcasts.  And if you know any fellow Bird nerds who you think will enjoy the show, please send them our flockin’ way.

Flocking News Article — Golden Bowerbirds’ Building Prowess Helps Scientists Monitor Climate Change, and Alarm Bells are Ringing

See our bower on YouTube

 

Co-Host: Luca the Blue and Gold Macaw

Logo Artwork: Teal Michaels

Music: The Deviants

 

Have ideas for the show?  Send them to crowbirdshow@gmail.com

To support the Bird Show, visit The Kerulos Center for Nonviolence at www.Kerulos.org

Episode Eight: Top 15 Birds

By Bird Show podcast

It’s a special week here at the Bird Show as we celebrate Emily’s 15th birthday with a list of her Top 15 Birds. From the glaciers of Antarctica to the forests of New Zealand, join us for a whirlwind tour of our favorite birds throughout the world. Some are cute, some are majestic, and without a doubt all fifteen are fascinating in their own, unique ways.

If you enjoy Dr. Crow’s Bird Show, please rate, review, and subscribe on YouTube or wherever you listen to podcasts.  And if you know any fellow Bird nerds who you think will enjoy the show, please send them our flockin’ way.

 

Co-Host: Chipmunk & Coyote the Ameraucana Chickens

Logo Artwork: Teal Michaels

Music: The Deviants

 

Have ideas for the show?  Send them to crowbirdshow@gmail.com

To support the Bird Show, visit The Kerulos Center for Nonviolence at www.Kerulos.org

Episode Seven: Quetzals

By Bird Show podcast

Shimmering like living jewels, Quetzals are one of the most stunningly-plumed bird species on the planet. On today’s episode, we learn about the life and legends surrounding these magnificent creatures. Uncover the mystery as to why the Quetzal no longer chooses to sing.  Discover the link between Quetzals and the people of Guatemala. And check out this episode’s co-host, Skittles the Green-Cheeked Conure, as she does her best Quetzal impression.

If you enjoy Dr. Crow’s Bird Show, please rate, review, and subscribe on YouTube or wherever you listen to podcasts.  And if you know any fellow Bird nerds who you think will enjoy the show, please send them our flockin’ way.

Flocking News article — Indigenous Women’s Agro-Ecology is Healing Guatemala’s Landscape

 

Co-Host: Skittles the Green-Cheeked Conure

Logo Artwork: Teal Michaels

Music: The Deviants

 

Have ideas for the show?  Send them to crowbirdshow@gmail.com

To support the Bird Show, visit The Kerulos Center for Nonviolence at www.Kerulos.org