I have so much to do. I should be studying. The laundry basket is overflowing, the dishes in the sink are a mile high, there are emails that need answering I should be working cleaning reading doing seeing eating being…
Thoughts pummel through my head like a freight train. Temples pulsing, I try to breathe deeply, hoping in doing so my incessant inner monologue will subside. What would it take to break free from these horrible, overwhelming thought patterns? It was my own fault, really. It happened whenever I put things off, or tried to somehow procrastinate my to-do list away. This wasn’t healthy, really. All this stressing isn’t doing me any good.
Before long, I realize that I’m worrying about my worrying. Before it spirals any further, I head toward the door for some fresh air.
When I step outside, I am immediately overtaken by bright sunlight. The warmth of it spreads across my body slowly, like honey. Taking a seat in one of our rickety patio chairs, I notice soft warbling sounds coming from the yard next to ours, in the apple tree and berry brambles that have woven around each other to resemble a strange hybrid plant. The source is a gathering of small birds, who flit from branch to vine sporadically, conversing with each other in between bites of ripened fruit. Held in a trance, I watch them go about their business.
After an indeterminable amount of time, it occurs to me that not a thought has passed through my head while focusing on the birds. I am suddenly reminded of a poem I read long ago:
I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.
“Can you imagine the things humans would say about themselves after they died, if they could?” I ask the birds overhead. “God, what wouldn’t we have to say?”
Indifferent to my queries, they continue to foray amidst the foliage, ruffling their feathers and fighting each other for the best perching spots. They’re content doing what they’ve always been doing; just following the patterns of nature, hard-wired into their genetics. For now, in this moment, I’m content too.
Later, I think about how much time and energy is wasted on worrying, on thinking about what we should or could be doing. We are blessed with the ability to think critically, and blessed with endless amounts of knowledge at our fingertips, (for those of us who are fortunate enough to have access to the internet), yet we use our minds in ways that are, for the most part, counterproductive to our wellbeing. There are no benefits to worrying. The world will continue on as it always has, regardless of whether or not we fret and stress.
Personally, I have to be reminded of this again and again. These reminders take the form of simple phenomena, like birds in a berry bush. They tell me that life is simple, and I am the one who overcomplicates matters by thinking too much.
I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
Reel in your worries, and know that feeling sorry about your troubles won’t make them go away. Of course, this is much easier said than done. I know that it’s something I continue to struggle with. But we can look to nature, take refuge in the simple pleasures of life, and know that life will go on as it always has.
