We Came. We Sat. They Sang
After a run of hot days and nights, a cool spell descended. It was early morning, an almost chilly breeze in the air, and Pam and I decided to sit for meditation out on the deck. After the morning reading, we sat in silence—or so we thought. The surrounding trees seemed to teem with birds, their songs flitting from branch to branch.
Then it happened. Nearby, a pair of song sparrows began to sing. Somehow in the clear morning air they seemed to be three feet away. One piped and trilled, and the other answered as if to finish the musical phrase. In the moment, all other sound was canceled and I had ears only for this duet. At times they seemed to be conversing in a kind of operatic performance, each song drawing a louder and more impassioned response. It went on like this for what seemed forever, as is often the case when time stands still.
When the recital was over, we looked at each other as if to say, What was that? We both experienced that, right?
In the days that followed I kept coming back to that bird concert. I wanted to know: Was that coincidence, or did the music start because we came outside and listened? If we had stayed inside, would the two song sparrows have come and sung their recitatives and arias anyway?
I can’t be sure, of course, but increasingly I believe that what we experience is determined in large part by how we show up in the moment. That is, I believe the two birds were drawn to us because we came out into their world and sat still. I would even say, They were singing for us. That may sound woo-woo, but we know from physics that to observe an object is to change it. We know, in other words, that reality and the way we approach it is dynamic and fluid. Not fixed. The matchless John O’Donohue said, “When we approach great things with reverence, great things approach us.” Our presence, the energy we bring, the quality of our mind and heart—all these things affect what happens in our lives. When we bring peace, acceptance, curiosity, laughter and grace into an encounter, things happen differently—and better—than if we hadn’t.
“What we experience is determined in large part by how we show up in the moment.” Thanks, David. I wrote down this line in a notebook to remind myself that it’s more important HOW I show up than THAT I show up.
You got it!
Lovely reverie and like you, I am daily, so appreciative of the operas and stage shows in my backyard!
Leslie McCarthy
Thanks, Leslie–nice to know you also enjoy the operas and stage shows in your back yard. Thanks for reading.
Love this! I wish I could be as succinct and articulate as you David. I grasp on to these ideas and my mind sort of short circuits. After you brought up John O’Donohue week before last, I’ve been listening to his audio of his book Beauty and I’m absolutely stunned by his observations. (And these are 20 years old – I can’t believe I didn’t get to him sooner.) So affirming for me, as now I realizing I’m not imagining the transformative power of beauty – and of being in the landscape, in nature. Going to try to write about it this week, but we’ll see. In the meantime, I appreciate you simplifying things for me.
I read that book on Beauty years ago. We just think beauty is a nice-to-have kind of thing, if you can get it–and not a power, a force, an energy that can transform. I guess Keats was right, that Beauty and Truth are the same thing. We all know the Truth can set us free–well that means, so can Beauty.
Thanks, David. What I took away is how you sat outside and attended to nature, its simple joys. I’m in the search for more excitment, or just “more.” And I fail to realize that life nearby is already exciting–if I attend. Think about that: “attend.” Am I attending my own life?
Yeah–most of us, most of the time, are not even attending our own lives–we’re too scattered, frenzied, or we just don’t believe there’s really anything there to attend TO. The real things worth having must be out there beyond us.
Eyes to see, ears to hear – neither work unless we show up and use them. Thanks, David!
That was Jesus’ admonition–Whoever has ears, let them hear. As you say, the implication is clear: Lots of us have ears and eyes and don’t even bother to use them.
And you and Pam know exactly how to show up at the right times.
Thank you, Betty