May 12 2019
It’s a lot really. The need to do and do more, to be ready and to not go under. Entirely my own doing, laundry sorting, finding that thing in the back of the fridge that would shame a skunk and of course the plants need watering. All things that feel really wonderful to do, like a stretch and a good wide yawn while running the sprint. They give me pause. They are the breaths.
This morning, coffee in hand, settled on the porch with hummingbirds crackng the sound barrier with their chip chip chirps and a mass of birds vying for tree space and aerial breakdancing, I am at peace with it.
They bring their gift each morning, the birds… the gift of letting go...Of remembering to soar and rest, to savor the food and dodge the cat… of adding your song to the wind and of bearing and living your loss even as you tumble through the sky.
They call me to simplify. Adding that, if I stop multi tasking, stop pushing, there is a flow that can be at times a swirl and at times a fine thread. That birds have not created harshness between them. Each type of bird takes its turn at the feeder, only eating the type of seed it prefers, leaving the larger seeds for the larger birds while the royal hummingbird flits to its own feeder, avoiding social time altogether.
Truth be told, I am not a bird. There, I said it. Rooted to the earth and to my loss and lightness...it’s a package deal. I remember times when in the midst of the white tunnel of pain and loss, it seemed as though no one else had ever known the same. In some way I was conveyed through that time and stepped out the other side, arms full. Now what?
Now, I remember.
I remember what I had feared and what I had sacrificed so that someone else could be comfortable and how huge a bite they took. I remember that my gut speaks more truthfully than what I hear and that every moment in the past was just as fleeting as this one. So I shift in my chair, sending the birds a fluttering and resolve to face forward more and to continue to practise my aerial dynamics regardless of my gravitational restrictions. Afterall, it makes me smile.