Reflection from Sarah McEvoy, CPE Intern
Bird Feeder Meditation
During the pandemic I’ve found renewed joy in taking walks. The slower pace of life has given me the opportunity to discover how spiritually nourishing nature can be. Over the years our residents, especially those who can’t get outside easily, have used bird feeders as a way to bring nature a little bit closer. We can borrow their passion for nature to find calm and comfort on a hectic, busy day. Find a bird feeder that’s in your assigned care area and draw your attention to it throughout the day. Once you find a feeder, it won’t take more than a minute or two to look for one of these tiny but tough songbirds.
The chickadee overwinters in fields and suburban areas in the northeast. This tiny creature, weighing less than a handful of paperclips, stays warm by fluffing up its soft, thick feathers to trap warm air close to its body. Chickadees need twenty times more food in the winter so they frequently visit bird feeders, taking one seed at a time, and quickly whisking it away to a safe hiding spot. When the temperature falls below 10 degrees, research shows that the survival rate of Chickadees almost doubles when they have access to feeders. They should be easy to spot once you draw your attention and intention to this calming exercise.
As you notice what’s happening at your feeder, try this two minute meditation.
- Stand comfortably with your feet grounded and your shoulders relaxed.
- Set an intention to stay present to the feeder, letting go of thoughts or stories in your mind as they arise, instead focusing on whatever is fascinating at the feeder.
- Breathe in slowly, out slowly, for four breaths.
- Return to work nourished by the calming presence of nature.
- Repeat as needed throughout your day.
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.