Undaunted Joy #149

Mountains out of Molehills? Or how I make imaginary problems

Huge thank you to everyone who bought or shared my new book Undaunted Joy: The Revolutionary Act of Cultivating Delight ! I can’t do this without you. I am overwhelmed with gratitude.

Photo by Cédric VT on Unsplash

The first time a bird flew into my house, my husband was out of town on business---for weeks. I had two little boys, aged two and three years old. Like many NW homes, we had no screens on our windows (we don’t get many bugs out here) and it was the first nice day in maybe years, as it rains so much here. So I opened all the windows to air out the poor place that had been closed up since the previous fall, when a sparrow decided to fly into my second-floor window at the top of the stairs.

It sat there all afternoon ---and chirped. It sounded as if one of my smoke detectors needed its battery replaced but this was a real live bird. And since I am a city girl, who has always lived within sight of skyscrapers in a large metropolitan west coast city---I panicked.

Why wouldn’t it fly back out? Would it fly to the rest of the house? Was it diseased ridden!? I asked.

It answered CHIRP.

I would eventually have to take my children up the stairs to tuck them in for the night, the only time I had any respite in these weeks of solo parenting. Would it still be there then? Chirping?

I felt sorry for this little guy. Was he separated from his mother? Was he scared? Petrified of moving about? Or did he just enjoy our house. He liked sitting there on his perch at the top of the stairs.

Still, I was afraid of this tiny bird.

I texted my neighbor, an ex-military man who grew up in rural West Virginia. Certainly, he would know what to do!

He texted back, “where is it located?” I responded that the little guy was sitting on the ledge of the window at the top of the stairs. That is hadn’t moved and hadn’t stopped talking for hours. My neighbor didn’t respond.

I went through the schedule with the boys, outside time, art time, munch on cheerios and grapes and string cheese time. When the 5 o’clock hour arrived, I started making dinner, a bit rattled. I was running out of TIME! There would be dinner, and clean up, baths and then story time, up those stairs, so close to that frightening creature! The creature the size of a rose bud and just as cute but it was probably vicious!

I checked for new texts. None.

I truly did not have any other options. I was a pathetic urban mother who did not know how to handle a pocket size bird who flew into her house.

At 5:20, I heard a car door close outside my house. I looked out of my open kitchen door, as I had opened all the doors and windows to entice the creature to leave when I saw my neighbor walking up the front path. He was in his clothes from the office. He walked in through the front door and looked at me. “Is it still here?” he asked. Before I could respond he heard Chirp. He marched up the stairs, scooped up the bird, marched down the stairs, out of the house, opening his hands for the bird to fly out as he walked back to his still running car, to park back at his house down the street. The whole process took about 15 seconds. My neighbor did not say anything else to me. He did not stop his gait. He took care of the problem and moved on.

I think about this little bird often. It wasn’t a threat. It was small. Cute even. How did I create a problem out of this tiny little creature which was remedied within 15 seconds? How often do I do this? The answer? OFTEN.

***

Friends, I am working on building a book tour. No, this isn't something my publisher has funds for. I am organizing it myself. Let me know if you can help in anyway. Looking for churches, schools and bookclubs to read the book at.

May: Washington State

Late July: Indiana

Early August : Portland area

Late August: Los Angeles area

Later part of the year: Tennessee, Maryland, Dallas