Nests
I spied a little bird's nest in the branches of a dogwood tree. Just like the ones I have found on the ground from time to time. I've picked them up and brought them inside to display as a thing of beauty, and as a testament to the nature around me. The nests are so very light-weight, it is surprising they can stay in the crook of a branch through wind and rain storms.I can learn from birds' nest-making. They gather the lightest wisps of grasses and twigs and pull the strands around them, weaving and engineering a safe space, a place to rest a while, a place to lay eggs and grow, if necessary. Sometimes the weather does blow that nest right out of its place. Then, they just go pick up materials at hand and make another.
We can do the same. We create nests of safety and rest and production for ourselves. These nests take the shape of our jobs, our routines and habits, even some relationships. And sometimes life comes by and whoosh! with one big wind, blows our nest away. We can take a lesson from the birds and go back to gathering and weaving.
We should enjoy the comfort and the view from the perch while we have it, because we may have to move sometime in the future. But even if we do, it will be okay because we have the skill we need to be able to reach out to the seemingly diaphanous materials around us, and engineer a place from which we can grow again.
I have some old things from my ancestors, some of whom are very old, some of whom are gone — a pitcher, a wooden spoon, an embroidered table cloth, a photo — I pick these up and display them in my home, in the same spirit with which I do the nests I find. They are testaments to a loved one's industry and creativity, and a symbol of their life and the nests they built while they were here.
Copyright (c) 2007
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