Hello you,
Do me a favour today, will you? Seek out a bird, any bird, and observe/ listen. Feel free to report back but you don’t have to. I trust that you’ll do it, even just for a few seconds.
I’ve been struggling recently. I told my therapist that I feel I am in deep water up to my chin, paddling hard to keep my face above the surface.
Sometimes the water recedes and less effort is needed. But really, I just want to be safely back on dry land.
We know what we are supposed to do to support ourselves through heavy times. Bullet point listicles will remind us about eating ‘well’, staying hydrated, meditation, moving our bodies, asking for help etc.
Spending time in nature is usually there too.
It’s tough though isn’t it? The times we most need self-care are the times when we’re least motivated and able to do it.
But I am proud that I’ve been leaning on my self-care skills, even when my inner critic tries to persuade me it’s all fruitless.
She laced up her walking boots and inhaled the summer air
Have you ever heard of a bogey bird? I learned this term from Hamza Yassin in his book Be a Birder. A bogey bird is the species which always evades the birder. It feels like everyone else has had an encounter with the elusive bogey bird except you.
I know I’m still a relative newbie to birding but mine is the kingfisher.
It’s become a running joke between my partner T and I that I’m such a desperado to see one, that they deliberately flit off when I’m around.
For a long time, T has been suggesting that I sit in an idyllic riverside spot not far from us where we thought we maybe saw a momentary flash of a kingfisher once.
On this particular blue-skied day last week I made myself go into nature, despite a strong pull to just lay down and drag a blanket over my head.
Being in nature is good for you. Tuning into birdsong is good for you.
I sat down and shimmied into a crevice in the grass.
Breathe. Relax. Notice.
The rush of river water over rocks, buttercups at my feet, flies buzzing around my ears, three ducks on the glistening brown water in the distance.
Within mere minutes, a smudge of orange WHIZZED across the scene, too fast to take in.
A thrilled smile arrived. A held breath.
If I could be patient and still, two verbs that would never be used to describe me or the cacophony in my head, I may really see one in situ.
I waited.
I tuned in.
There!? Several times I witnessed the zooming flight of the kingfisher. They really are blink and miss fast.
I waited some more. I worked on being still.
I had moments of being that very rare thing; present.
Eventually, the bird finally landed, just ahead of me on the mud in the gnarled tree roots. I lifted my binoculars, my pulse rushing in my ears.
Everything else faded away except for me and the iridescent kingfisher. The kingfisher and I.
There you are.
I was overwhelmed and fizzing with joy and awe.
This encounter was medicine. And somehow it happened on a day when I was in such need of that deep joy and connection. Mother Nature delivered.
It wasn’t really about the kingfisher though. I know I would have felt the healing effects of being outdoors, tuning in and observing.
I wrote this in my journal in February.
“I couldn’t believe the shift I felt from just a few still minutes, sat, watching the birds. I know the power of nature, I know there are hundreds of studies, I know…
“But when you’re in that spiralling place, in the moment it’s hard to see an end point. When I was watching the birds with my love by my side, it all ebbed away.”
I’ve been thinking a lot about my younger self recently. She didn’t have the self-care skills or the language that I do now. She so often felt lost.
In those days, birds didn’t even register with my senses. They were just part of the general background smudge of life.
What would I say to 20-year-old Janelle who was lying on the bedroom floor with the carpet on her cheek, feeling hopeless?
Perhaps; “Hear me out. I know you won’t believe me. I know this seems silly or too obvious or like it’s advice for someone else. But will you try it? Because you might just find a flicker of the hope you’re searching and searching for.”
I’m sure she would have scoffed and discounted the suggestion immediately.
If the instruction had come from a doctor (aka an authority figure), she may well have tried it diligently.
I was so glad to learn that nature prescriptions are becoming a reality. And I enjoyed this short video I found on Youtube about Bird Club in New York.
“I felt like for the first time in a long time, I was very present.”
“I haven’t felt that kind of joy since I was a little kid.”
I know there will be days to come when I really need the reminder about my bird medicine. Days on which I will forget that I have the opportunity to pay attention to birds any time I need it. There will be times when I will curl under a blanket and refuse to remember.
But if I could feel even one per cent calmer and more hopeful, isn’t it worth a try?
I prescribe us: birds.
Janelle x
I had an incredible encounter with a hummingbird recently. I was sitting in my garden when he appeared to feast on the flowers we planted for him. I watched him buzz from flower to flower before landing on the vine over the garden wall. I watched as he just stood motionless for several minutes. It was incredible! I’d never seen a still hummingbird before, or since. There is so much magic to be found in nature and I love these kinds of encounters with birds and other wildlife.
This is so beautiful. I'm so pleased you saw a kingfisher. It obviously came to you at just the right time