I have long paid lip service to the importance of being grounded and in the moment, but the type A part of my personality often thwarts regular practice.
I found myself in tears many times last week, frustrated by the physical and mental limitations caused by my anti-seizure medication. I learned that the medication not only causes mental cloudiness, but also heightened emotions, physical weakness, dizziness, drowsiness, and confusion. I was completely overwhelmed with the most menial of decisions, and here I was, having to make some pretty big choices regarding my finances, belongings (regarding a certain wildfire and possible evacuation of our home) and health. By Friday night, something had to give, and I went to bed with the intention to take care of myself better over the weekend. I would allow my mind and body to rest. I had to.
And Saturday I awoke to a treat. Breakfast on the front porch brought an aerial display of epic proportions by our community of hummingbirds. They made me laugh out loud for over an hour with their antics, cursing and body-slamming each other for space on the feeder. And just as I was marveling in my own, personal, live-action nature channel, it really came to life. Mother turkey came through the yard for the first time with her new family of chicks. Then the woodpeckers started heckling me from the trees. The finches and jays and flickers and crows and grosbeaks and quail and waxwings all raised their voices, spread their wings and revealed themselves. I was laughing so hard, tears were streaming down my face. The message was so clear - the moment is right now, right here. And I stayed put, sipping my coffee, taking it all in, allowing Boyfriend to click away with the camera.
I know I'm not doing it justice with mere words, and the magnitude of the moment wasn't captured digitally, even if I were to post a series of photos or a video. So I'm gifting you with this clip - it's the only thing that comes close to capturing how I felt. So make like Snow White with a smile and a song.
Let's not even get into the fact that my biological clock has been been shifting into overdrive for a while now. (No, you can't ask me how long! And I can feel you high-fiving each other, Kurtabel!) But recent events have certainly heightened my nesting and maternal instincts, much to the dismay of all logical thinking.
Then She Found Me came in the mail from Netflix the other day, and poor Boyfriend had no idea the treat he was in for. By the time Helen Hunt shouted, "I'm not adopting a Chinese baby!" for the third time, I was nearly in tears.
[Before certain family members get all excited, please see the previous post. I'm in the process of adopting a CAT.]
So I'm going to risk boring you to tears by indulging myself in nature's version of the magic of motherhood. I took this video Saturday* of the inaugural appearance of Momma Turkey Hen and her 9 balls of fluff. Moms always seem to have impeccable timing, don't they?
Happy (belated) Mother's Day.
*NOTE: This video is not my own, but in an effort to keep my head from exploding, I opted to link to this video until I get my own posted to Youtube. Did I mention how much I love Hughesnet satellite internet service?
UPDATE: I got the video uploaded without my head exploding. Enjoy.
I'm obsessed with taking photos of the local wildlife, particularly birds. So I'm going to begin posting the story behind the photos as well. Because many photos involved me yelling, "Stop!" and maniacally bursting from the car, camera in hand, fumbling with the on-switch and zoom, tripping over rocks and poison oak, in hot pursuit of feathered subjects who are, understandably, now long gone. I imagine the birds have become accustomed to my antics, rolling their eyes when they see me coming. They seem to be on a mission to thwart the crazy camera lady, taunting me with their, uh, ability to fly. Away.
I am admittedly limited by my own bumbling inexperience, not to mention my camera. But still, it's tricky to capture the essence of living, moving, flying things, with half a second shutter-lag. But the Panasonic Lumix does have 10X zoom, so that's pretty fun for the time being. Our first bit of extra cash has already been earmarked for a new battery and lens for Boyfriend's Digital Rebel. Maybe by then my skills will match the abilities of the tool.
Look, everyone - here comes the point of this post!
Hummingbirds are some of my favorite subjects - they're tiny, living, breathing jewels. They're also about 20 times zippier than your average bird, so it is a rare treat to catch them with my camera. I usually settle for simply watching them from our screen porch.
A few weeks ago Boyfriend and I discovered a new way to interact with our little community of buzzing, aerial artists. That particular evening, we filled our hummingbird feeder at prime feeding time. Boyfriend was swarmed by the usual crowd of 10-15 little jewels on his way out to hang it up. So he hung out and I took this video. In the past we've seen them hit the ground, the screens and each other as they duke it out for a place on the feeder. Watching from the screen porch is one thing, standing in the midst is another experience entirely.
Warning: This is a stream of conciousness with periods and the occasional line-break. Good luck...
I just hate it when I lie awake for so long, ideas fluttering around in my head, that I forget what to write down. I know, I know, - keep a notebook by your bed, Girlbert. I do, but there are only so many times you can turn on the light and scribble something down before a) your partner wants to kill you, or b) you should just get your ass out of bed and do it justice. And I'm too lazy to deal with the repurcussions of either of those options.
So I have a problem - too many ideas, not enough time to write it all down. I should be grateful - at least I'm not all tapped out. Part of it is the surrounding landscape, so rich and filled with inspiration. I'm having serious attention deficit issues as the weather warms and nature reawakens from her winter slumber. Hundreds of little orange butterflies swooped and flitted around our neighborhood yesterday, seeming to put on a show just for me. And the woodpeckers are the court jesters of the forest, they were in full entertainment mode - practicing their acrobatics and heckling one another all day long. The local turkeys are in full-on mating season the toms march by the house in full display several times a day, the hens nonchalantly following along. The surrounding forest has become a genuine Garden of Eden - luring me from my money-making pursuits and responsibilities behind my computer. I am highly distractable.
I'm also reading again. I haven't read much but manuals on HTML and CSS, online tutorials on content management systems lately. I was terribly excited when I acquired Transcending CSS: The Fine Art of Web Design. Really? What happened to the animal-loving, mystic who sought out nothing but feel-good, self-help books, metaphysical manuscripts, and celebrity autobiographies? When did I learn to absorb information in textbooks? I certainly could have used that skill in high school. But I'm back on Memoirs-of-the-Rich-and-Famous-Train, and it's bringing me full circle on why I left Colorado in the pursuit of my happiness in California.
First came Goldie Hawn's book, A Lotus Grows in the Mud. A fascinating journey, her life is, and who could have anything against someone named Goldie? Of course I was open to it, as I am with most everything, particularly in the realm of alternative medicine and spiritual journeys. I used to have a friend who would roll his eyes at my fascination with celebrities endorsing metaphysics and holistic lifestyles. "If Shirley says it, it must be true," he would sneer, mockingly. It's always been so funny to me what threatens people. I mean, what's so threatening about just believing there is an easy, beautiful, happy way to live? It's true, I know I believe a lot of what those in the spotlight have to say about such matters because I look at them as choices that the people with the most money in the world can afford. And then I think, or do they have all that money because of the metaphysical choices they've made? Or is it both? The chicken or the egg?
But no matter, the point is that when the rich and famous have health issues or get cancer, most of them turn to alternative therapies. They can afford the best western medicine and traditional doctors in the world, but they choose energy therapy, acupuncture, Chinese medicine, instead. And they travel around the world to learn about such therapies, other cultures and other religions. So as much as hanging on the every word of a celebrity touting another alternative therapy makes me look like a whore to celebrity culture, it's what makes sense to me. And as I'm now reading in Shirley's latest book (which I intend to write more about upon finishing), information that resonates with you in some way is your reality, and you should take it very seriously.
So here I am again, absorbing Shirley's wise words regarding syncronicity, spirituality, holistic medicine, and reincarnation, and thinking, this is what I'm supposed to be doing. This is why I'm here. On this planet. In this lifetime.