Thursday, August 11, 2016

So tiny (and also attachment issues)

This morning I took a tiny walk with my neighbor Johanna who wanted to show me a tiny hummingbirds' nest built on top of a tiny wind chime.  The nest, of course, was filled with a tiny baby.  All of which seems like a tiny miracle to me.

Or even a big one.

It's no secret that I struggle with bouts of depression--some of them fairly severe--so I keep looking for tools to put in my toolbox (ugh!  therapist-speak!) so when an episode hits, I can find ways to lessen the pain.  Which is why I've been reading about mindfulness which goes down the Buddhist road which places a lot of value on letting go of attachments because attachments are the cause of pain in this world.

Or at least that's how I'm reading that concept.

But as I walked away from the tiny hummingbirds' nest, I thought bring on the pain.  I want to feel the beauty of that nest in my heart and love it still, knowing full well that it will be gone by autumn.


4 comments:

Quinton said...

I loved this post. You are such a talented writer.

Megan Goates said...

This is lovely.

I am attached to the miraculous things in my life. And yes, there is beauty in pain. And also redemption.

CSIowa said...

My mindfulness teacher made a distinction between pain (unavoidable part of life) and suffering (mostly resulting from trying to push away unpleasantness instead of paying attention to the fact that it is there and letting it be there, along with many other pleasant and neutral things). There is a lot to mindfulness that I wouldn't have guessed at first glance. It has been a valuable intermittent practice for me.

Jim said...

Beautifully written. We have a fairly active Hummingbird community in Henderson. I am not sure why they choose to live here, but I am glad they do. I sit by the pool and watch them "flit" (was that word invented for Hummingbirds?) this way and that. Sometimes they stop and hover, at times fairly close to me. Its almost as if they are as curious about me as I them. "Why won't that big thing fly?" I almost hear the bird hum. Then bird the H. Bird flits off to its business and beauty.

Keep up the writing. And sorry if this contradicts Buddha, but keep the attachments that mean the most to you.