About Whimsy

Once upon a time there was a little wren named Whimsy.  True to her name, she was fun-loving, playful, and imaginative.  Curious and energetic, she loved to learn and explore.  Once she grew old enough to fly, Whimsy decided to go off on an adventure.  Feeling confident, she set out, flapping her tiny wings with newfound freedom.  The little wren discovered so many interesting new things.  She could not wait to get home and sing the song of her journey and her exciting discoveries to her family and friends. 

Suddenly, Whimsy became trapped in a terrible storm.  The winds blew fiercely, coming at her from every direction.  She lost sight of her nest, but she carried on, trying to find home.  The rain was heavy, soaking her wings and making it almost impossible to fly.  But still she did not give up hope.  Lightning struck and thunder roared.  Whimsy felt confused, unsure of her direction.  But onward she flew, flapping her wings with all her strength.  The hail pelted her, bruising and battering her wings, and she could no longer take to the air.  Still, she persisted, tucking her head, flattening her feathers, and striding forward with all her fading energy. 

Whimsy searched for her friends and family, desperate to connect and huddle through the downpour with them, but she remained lost and alone.  The little wren grew weary, losing confidence that she would find her way.  She searched for shelter, but repeatedly, she was turned away by the other birds.  They were afraid, and she did not belong.  There was no place for her. 

She sat on a rock while the tempest attacked her from all sides.  Defeated, she closed her eyes and wept.  Tears poured out of her, streaming into the puddles below.  Exhausted and depleted, she was unable to make the slightest peep.  The little bird’s once cheerful and optimistic melody was gone.  She dropped her head in shame, feeling bleak and disappointed.  “After all,” she thought to herself, “what is a bird who cannot fly?  Who am I without my song?  I don’t even feel like a real bird anymore.  What if I’m like this forever?  No one will care about me if I can’t fly high or sing pretty tunes.”

As she worried and grieved, Whimsy heard a soft sound, barely a whisper.  It was so faint, she thought she imagined it.  Perhaps it was the trees rustling or the whistling of the wind.  Wait, there it was again – a soft swooshing and an airy vibration…and then, a scent, the sweet, delicious smell of her favorite seeds and berries.  Carefully, she hopped towards the delightful aroma and the unfamiliar noises.  It was like nothing she had ever heard before.  The little wren stepped gingerly forward, ready to return quickly to the rock at a moment’s notice.  As she drew closer, she discovered another unusual item – a brightly colored hole, almost like a cave.  Inside, it was warm and dry, and there was a special place for her to perch.  She also saw a mound of the delicious treats she adored.  Suddenly, her tummy grumbled – it had been so long since breakfast.  But Whimsy was afraid.  The whisper appeared again, speaking clearly and directly to her, “Come in, shelter from the storm.  You will be safe inside.  I will watch over you while you rest.”

Whimsy was hesitant but grateful for this protection.  Her eyes remained wide, her heart pounded, her mind raced, and her body was twitchy and restless.  She was greatly distressed by the events of the day – the cruel storm, her tender wounds, and being turned away by the other birds.  It was hard to make sense of this haven and the gentle, welcoming whisper who encouraged her to fill her tummy and quench her thirst while it cared for her injured body and her broken heart.  As she began to feel safe, Whimsy started to relax.  Her breathing slowed, her muscles loosened, and she felt a tiny spark of hope that she might one day recover… 

When you can’t look on the bright side,
I will sit with you in the dark.

–Lewis Carroll

All of us have a story.  We all struggle and face challenges that bring up thoughts and feelings that are hard to understand and manage, at times.  Whimsy and I want you to know you are not alone, that our office is a safe space for you, your child, your family to rest and to work through the tricky things in your lives.  We are ready to hold a spark of hope for you until you regain your light, your voice, and the ability to soar again.