A Prolific Bird and Mirror of Self

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The hummingbird migration is in full swing in Texas, but in our own yard, it is more akin to an invasion. They race from flower to flower and feeder to feeder throughout the day as they weave in and out of the trees like water rushing through stones. Their high pitch squabbles can be heard from every direction of the yard. We catch them hovering in front of our windows and look for their return whenever they dart away leaving only a hint of their frenetic magic in their wake.

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The migration goes by in a flash, and I can’t resist taking a short break in the evening to photograph these breath-taking beauties from my bedroom window. To my endless amusement, the birds seem equally intrigued with me. They readily park themselves inches away from the glass and observe me in return as they pose happily for the camera. Maybe they sense our shared delirious approach to life, or perhaps they, too, just want to quiet the noise for a few brief moments. It is also highly likely that they are contemplating pulling a Hitchcock move with me if I continue to refuse to buy more feeders. I may never know, but I prefer the idea of their finding an affinity with a kindred wild spirit.

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Even if these little birds don’t recognize our similarities, the parallels are striking to me. Racing madly from task to task only to realize that the activity list never appears to get any shorter. Getting my feathers ruffled unnecessarily by those around me who happen to invade my space. Perpetually finding myself in search of more sugar. Clearly these birds and I have been taking notes from the same Questionable Life Choices manual.

Although I see much of myself mirrored in these avian maniacs, we do appear to have a few notable differences. For example I am doubtful that they frequently catch themselves working until 2, 3 or 4 in the morning to get the job done. I, on the other hand, have been in that position multiple times this week alone. With that said it only feels fair for me to disclose that I have yet to use my arms to fly hundreds of miles across country on multiple occasions throughout this year, so the birds appear to have bested me in the extreme modes of travel category. We also diverge in the whole “bird” / “human” distinction, but clearly the working hours and arm flap vs. plane mode of travel are the key disparities.

But differences aside, I still see so much of myself mirrored in their madness. Their uniqueness. Their ferocity. I can’t help but smile when I see them in action, but there is also something indescribably calming about watching them at rest. It’s just so unexpected and their beauty truly shines when they reflect that momentary stillness.

Sitting for a moment. Taking a few breaths. Finding the calm inside the chaos. And when it’s time again, diving into the hustle of life again.

Perhaps that’s the real lesson they are sharing and that’s the moment I should seek to mirror. I imagine that we could all use a little more of that in our lives.

Take a moment and take a breath. Find the quiet in the noise. And when you are truly ready, spread those wings once more.

Love and light always. Joanna

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*All written and photographic works are the sole property of yours truly and written permission must be obtained for their use. Please respect copyright laws, and more importantly, please respect the laws of not behaving like a bonehead.

In the Mirror

This is my wild little princess.

***I wrote this post almost five years ago.  At that point, I had been creating entries frequently for about a year.  Soon thereafter, life body checked me and certain parts of my mind and heart became closed.  In lieu of getting the wind knocked out of me, I lost my voice.  I am thankful that, on most days, it seems to have found its way back to me now.  I don’t know why so many of us feel the need to hide.  We attempt to bury our feelings.  To shield our hearts.  To minimize our place in the world.  We have a brilliant light within each of us that no tarnish can dull and a beautiful fire that no darkness can suffocate.  I remember that now, and I feel it’s truth growing daily within me.  I see the girl below more and more as I scrape away the layers I mistakenly tried to bury her beneath. Although a great deal has happened over the past five years, my song is still the same.***

I have a confession to make, and I fear that it may make me a bit unpopular.  Although I feel great trepidation about sharing this, I still sense the need to tell you this…

I don’t feel old.

I know.  You are unfriending me immediately.  But it’s true.  I just don’t feel old.  I recognize that I am in the minority-est of the minorities, but I can’t help it.  I just don’t feel like I am getting older and creakier by the minute.  I don’t feel like I am withering into nothingness and needing to order a rascal.  And if I did order a rascal, I would totally have it tricked out with streamers and wicked paint and a crazy horn – Honk hoooonk!  Move over kids!  Mama needs to get to the corn flakes!

And if I die tomorrow, I want my funeral to be a party.  Not like a “ding dong the witch is dead” kinda shindig.  I’m thinking of something along the lines of dance music, crazy funny pictures, colorful clothing, my family telling embarrassing stories of what a goof I was, ice cream, ponies (oh yes there will be more than one pony), and piñatas (because what kid doesn’t love those??)!  Also I think cheesecake and macaroni should be present as they have been two of my great loves.  And there should be prizes (like you could win a mani/pedi for having the kid that throws the first genuine meltdown or barfs on the pony).  Maybe it could be a pajama party!  Who doesn’t love jammies?  Or a toga funeral!!!  How awesome would that be???  Yes – I am completely serious. My funeral will be THE event of the year!

But as I said earlier, I don’t feel old so I’m not planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

Why do so many people seem so fixated on how old they feel?  I have heard people of all ages say this for as long as I can remember.  It seems to start in the 20’s (why would you ever feel old in your 20’s) and then gains steam from there.  I don’t even understand when someone in their 70’s feels old. They usually look and sound pretty good to me!

I am not saying that my body has not changed. I can very much assure you that it has. I am literally two inches shorter than I was a few years ago (disc thang – long story but I don’t buy into it anymore anyway).  My body doesn’t seem to be able to find an easy way to ride horses nowadays (a bit sad as that was my passion).  And I don’t even think about jumping or sneezing but I won’t go into details there – thanks a lot kids! 😉

When I look in the mirror, I don’t see a small child, and I do wonder when the heck yet another line showed up on my face.  However those are physical changes.  The me inside of me hasn’t changed.  Well hopefully she is a little better at moving through life.  But overall I still feel like that kid I once was.  I still love to play!  I adore games, the zoo is a place filled with wonder, puppies and kittens are like furry magic, and I can barely sleep the night before Christmas (which is significantly ironic as I typically purchase 95% of the gifts…but that does leave the mysterious 5% and maybe one day it will be the pony I always wanted!).

Hold on tight to the kid in you.  Empower that person, not the old cranky “You kids get off my lawn!” fellow.  When you look in the mirror, look for that childlike spirit and energy you can never lose.  And when you find that little person again, call me because I am always ready to come out and play. 🙂

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