Be the Bird

I once sat by my window

Listening to a bird sing its song

Over and over, it jubilantly sang

I imagined what thoughts might pass through my mind if I were that bird:

“Am I doing this right?”

“Am I boring my listeners by repeating the same notes over and over?”

“If only I were a Meadowlark, I’m sure people would enjoy my singing more.”

Self doubt . . . comparison of myself to others.  The usual human things we do.
(Do my blog posts just sound juvenile and silly?  Why am I even doing this?  Does it matter?  Why can't I get my silly bird picture to show up on my facebook link?)

Of course, the bird is only living out its purpose and singing the song it was given. I imagine it takes delight in perfecting every little trill.

Does a Crow lament that it is not a Hermit Thrush?

Does the Eagle wish it could hover like a Humming Bird? 

Does the Cardinal long for the ability to spin its head like an Owl?

In nature, birds, animals, plants, insects . . . they all live their purpose

In peace

With abandon

Immersed in the essence of their nature

They are complete

This is not a new idea

But, I like to return to it

To remember

We so easily discount ourselves

What song have you been given?

Do you wish it were prettier? 

Do you feel like a Crow in a world of Meadowlarks?

What dance were you given?  Does it feel awkward? 

What words have you been given?  Are you afraid to speak them?

Do they not seem to fit with the words of those around you?

Each of our songs is beautiful, unique and perfect for us.

Each dance, each word . . .

Whatever our essence . . .

It is what we’re meant to be at this time

Maybe the song will change

Maybe we’ll learn a different dance  . . .

But, right now, you are a gift

Right now, wherever you are

No matter how out of tune or insignificant

You think your song

Whether you think anyone is hearing it
Or seeing you

Sing, speak, dance, walk, be . . .

In peace

With abandon

Because you are a gift to the world

Right now.

You being your true self

Will give life, goodness and hope

To people you may never even know

* * * *

What bird am I now?

A quiet bird

Whispering songs

Sweet songs

Which I hope resonate

With others

They resonate within me

My wings cannot lift me

But I am carried by Love

To great heights

I am nestled in sweet green grasses

Fragrant and safe

I know my song

I love my song

Nourished within

The Full Song is too great

Too intricate to be truly sung

By a bird like me

By any one bird

We all sing our bits

That’s why we must all sing our songs

Dance our dances

Speak our words

We are all part of the song of life

If you silence your part, something will be missing

Shuffle your feet, open your mouth, flap your wings

Be the true you

Otherwise, we’ll never know the beauty that is you

If you’ve got the screechy crow part, screech it out loud! 

We need you!

If you’re the dancer with two left feet, stumble across the dance floor.

We need you!
If all you can do is smile as you lie in bed, give us a grin.  Now!
We need you!

Oh, to truly love oneself.

To truly be at peace with ourselves in all our perfectly imperfect humanity.

I have come to a different understanding of perfection.

I am not broken.  I am not flawed.

I am perfectly human.  

Just as a bird is perfectly a bird, even though there are feathers out of place, perhaps disease in its body . . . it just keeps being the bird that it is.

What else would it be?