Enter Label: The funniest hour in 4 years, and what, if anything, it means
City wild turkey sightings, GOAT interview, ABC7News, symbols of rebirth and renewal
Dear Companions,
It seems inviolable to chronicle all the suffering and lessons in the Healingvrse, yet skip the silliest event in years—landing on local news about a wild turkey that flew to my side on the Upper East Side.
For the first time, I didn’t feel dissociation or panic while laughing hard. Just joy. For a moment, I had teleported back to my pre‑illness life—captured forever by the eminent ABC7 News.
▶ Watch the interview for hilarity → K’s and my brilliant contribution to the legendary events 30 seconds in.
Here is the YouTube Short for those interested in the key 5 seconds. I promise you will laugh.
Stay tuned for the viral song version. Hide your kids, hide your wife.
On its face, this moment had little to do with healing. Much to my chagrin, even family members didn’t quite understand the hullaballo. But after four years of measuring every millimeter of my energy envelope, it cracked something open in the Healingvrse.
Narnia. Fantasia. Falcor. A Wrinkle in Time. Hello strange world, again.
The old me—who fist-pumped Shaq after a night in a Chinese jail—might’ve brushed it off.
Now it matters more. Maybe the Healingvrse taught me gratitude. Maybe it’s just that my life’s been boxed in by blocks, appointments, and rationed experiences for too long.
But on this day, the pattern loosened. A sandstorm gathered. I may not be spontaneous, but I’ve made space—for serendipity. I can taste the ungovernable air as it swirls in my mouth, passing through me.
Two years ago, my grandma’s death gave me the will to not give up the fight, in her memory. The wild turkey reminded me of that, as silly as that sounds.
The Confluence of Events
I was with my friend K, co-navigator of many misadventures—like the time we got lost en route to the Kentucky Derby and ended up in the wrong state.
She’s tall, I’m short, and we volley our oddball commentary at two altitudes.
Years ago, after a car accident left her relearning how to walk, I drew a bird in a cage with the caption: “A bird is only as free as her cage.” Fitting that this story with us also involves a bird.
What you need to understand about my excitement: It’s not like I’m meeting people left and right. K was heading to Penn Station; I’d just come from a last-minute genetic blood test.
On a whim, I canceled my neurologist appointment and met her at the French café (shout out Madame Bonte), cotton balls on both arms flapping in the wind because my doctor had trouble sticking me.
The Encounter
As I’m mid‑rant, waving my Carl Jung book over cappuccino with that good whole milk, K cuts me off:
“There’s a turkey outside the window… I think.”
A turkey? In a tree? Because it’s K, I assume symbolism. I tease, “Turkey as in a rat on the floor? Spiderweb in the ceiling?” I half‑jump, expecting a critter.
“No—an actual big bird,” she says. I scoot forward, crane my neck—and my jaw practically hits my chest. It… is… a turkey.
No one else had noticed. We race outside, throwing out potential names, taking selfies. People gather, wondering what we’re looking at. We become ambassadors for the turkey.
We marvel at her hairy beak, the red streaks in her plume, how impossibly graceful she is on a thin high branch. Unbothered by sirens, she makes the Upper East Side look cool.
We don’t yet know she came from Queens, or that her name is Astoria, or that she was in Midtown the day before. It wouldn’t have mattered. She was ours—for that one moment. She came straight from Narnia into the Healingvrse.
Then the news reporters came. Then the cops. When I come back 15 minutes later with my kid in tow, she’s gone.
The Symbol
A whale may signify the vast deep meaningless of the world. But a wild turkey is all about renewal and rebirth. She teaches you to be grateful for what is already around you, instead of seeking new forms of nourishment.
She reminds you to give away or share things that nourish you from time to time, so that you may more freely receive when bounty is offered to you.
Also, I understand it’s a suspicious sign. Turkeys shouldn’t be in the city. I see them all the time out in Montauk. They should be on the ground during the day instead of trees. So, I intend to honor her.
The Lessons
It’s not the nights out or drinking that many of us in the Healingvrse miss—it’s the serendipity that comes from being open to everything, never saying no or overthinking. The freedom to fly out the door, buy one-way tickets, roam without asking permission—from others or yourself.
Let the turkey assure you: the wild side is not off-limits in the Healingvrse, where everything from symptoms to emotions still need a lot of managing. A quantum of spontaneity can arrive anywhere, even between blood draws.
Invite it in. Look up in the trees. Miss an appointment.
When we are really sick, these departures are impossible, but when the time comes, you will be ready. You won’t care how you feel later. You will want to get as much juice as possible out of the squeeze.
I waited four years.
Everyone's time for joy comes. Yours too.
In short…
Seek the synchronicity. Interpret the signs from the universe. Be grateful for what you have. Nourish and be nourished.
Be a wild turkey in the city.
I leave you with the quote from the interview in the article.
With much love the from the Healingvrse,
Rebecca
I love it! Yes it's time for some joy 🙂