Thoughts

I was sitting out on the deck just now, watching the wind toss the tree branches about in a pleasant sort of way, grumpily pondering the vagaries of life. I was wearing a red t-shirt with Sheldon Cooper's face and his catchword "Bazinga!" prominently displayed.

I had closed my eyes to ponder more deeply for a minute or two and was startled to hear a nearby loud buzz . I jerked up and opened my eyes to discover an aggressive hummingbird a few inches from the red and yellow of the shirt, trying to decide whether to poke around or not. When I moved, so did the bird, disappearing into the back yard.

This happened once to a novice at Holy Hill, a young man from New Jersey who had apparently never encountered a hummingbird before. When one approached him as he sat on the monastery's deck, he thought he was being attacked by an enormous bee and fled into the house.

One thing I noticed about my experience this evening was that the arrival of the hummingbird completely derailed my somewhat grumbly train of thought. The bird came, buzzed and then disappeared. I realize that many of my troublesome thoughts are like that: they arrive, buzz and -- if I let them -- will disappear, leaving things/me in a state of pleasant calm. My problem is that I don't let the thoughts go as easily as I let the hummingbird fly away. I want to touch them, pick at them, turn them this way and that. As a result, the thoughts just tangle me up more and more. I do better when I notice the thoughts, let them just be like a passing bird and let them go, and then in a more peaceful frame of mind, re-examine what had bothered me. Or realize that there is no reason to re-examine it at all and just get one enjoying the pleasant evening that surrounds me.

Thanks, hummingbird. Come back soon when the trumpet vines are in bloom and you can have all the nectar from them that you want.

No bazinga!