Ah Ha Moments

This evening I was sitting on my front porch. I have spent more time on my front porch this summer than I have in the entire 11 years we have been living here full time. As usual when I discover a gem that has been lying under my nose for so long without seeing it, I want to kick myself for being so dense. But again, I remind myself, that with all things, I wasn’t meant to find it before. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t aware. I wasn’t prepared for the healing that I’d find when the time was ripe.

As I swang to and fro, the gentle breeze it created brushed across my face and through my short hair. The smells of star gazer lilies are thick in the air right now as I have two beautiful plants that generated 10 blooms on one tall skinny stem, and the other 11. I have to stake them to keep them erect. The creek behind the house gurgled in its quest to barrel down the crooked crevice in the hill like a bob sledder on a frozen track in the Olympics. The bugs chirped in the background with their steady rhythmic screeching. The birds sang in full voice, and I swear, one sounded pissed off about something. And then the sun set, and the birds faded away.

I’ve often wondered how birds knew when to go to bed. And where were they in the trees. And how did they keep other critters out of their nests. And just how did they make it all through the night sleeping in branches far over the forest floor. These crazy questions that keep me awake at night if I let them.

But tonight I slowed down enough to really ponder these questions. And it hit me. The whole reason I went out on the porch was the birds had gotten so loud. I wasn’t really sure what was going on. I sat and listened to them. It was as if they were conversing:

Miss Blue bird: Hey everyone, I had quite the day. But I’m home now and all is well. Sleep

well.

Mister Cardinal: Hey Indi, so glad you had a great day. Now could you keep it down, we’re

all trying to settle in for the night.

Wise Owl: Hey Red, do you always have a leaf stuck in your beak?! Night Indi!

All the chatter sounded just like the Waltons – Good night Mary Ellen; Good night Jim-Bob; Good night John Boy! Of course I know I’m being absurd. Birds don’t really communicate the way humans do. But what if the routine is this: they wake up, greet each other, share a flight plan (because really, how do birds avoid hitting each other with as many as there are in the skies?!), go about the work of their day, come back to nest for the night, and off to the same routine tomorrow? What if all the communication is to say “Hey, I’m in my nest, don’t mess with me, and I won’t mess with you”. I’m going to test my theory tomorrow night and see if it happens again just like tonight.

Thinking like a bird. A very difficult thing to do. We’re so very far removed from living in a world of survival of the fittest, we have ZERO ideas on how any of that works. All of that prompted me to yet another thought. (Yes, I do wish there was an off button for the various tortures my brain provides!)

What if we lived in a world where we didn’t measure age? When did that start anyway? What would that world look like? Would we bother with working out, face lifts, breast implants, make up, hair dye, and the like? Would we have words like elderly, retirement, antiquated, or obsolete?

Or perhaps we would segment by usefulness, experience, and wisdom instead. Or by follower or leader. And maybe even we wouldn’t distinguish at all but simply let the transgression of time take its natural course and allow Mother Earth to spin in her natural rhythm complementing each other for the greatness of the whole.

As with the evolution of everything, those times did once exist. Where we didn’t stereotype, place everything in a “box”, or have a word called social conformity. We are far removed from that stratosphere. What a shame. I can only imagine the peace of mind the simplicity afforded.

My take away is to start thinking like a bird more often. When I open my mouth to judge or let my thoughts wander to a darker side, I am going to ask myself what does the segment matter. As long as we communicate our flight plan, surely we can avoid mid air collisions.

Oh my ah ha moments these days. I freaking LOVE being 50! If only I could have had this wisdom to get out of my own stupid way in all those moments of stumbling. But alas, Mother Earth knows best!