Drop The Baggage, Keep The Wisdom
Bird life lessons.
We had a cardinal who loved to circle the neighborhood singing his beautiful song. His was the loudest song of all the birds and the first bird of the morning.
We could hear him as he started in the backyard and circled to the side, out front, the side, and back again. He staked out his territory, saying, “This is all mine.”
His song worked. He attracted a mate.
Just outside my office window, she built a nest in a tree, laid eggs, and sat on her nest, waiting for the babies to hatch.
A short time later, one baby hatched, and we watched the feeding process. Mom and Dad took turns going off for food. They constantly called to each other, as cardinals do.
One day, I glanced out the window and saw Junior standing on the ledge of the nest. Both parents came quickly but stayed away and only watched.
I worried he would topple over as he stretched his wings and flapped, but his parents were calm and watchful.
Within the next hour, he had hopped out onto the limb, and his dad was ready to show him how to fly. Dad took a short flight to another limb, and Junior followed. As we watched, he expanded the distance between limbs.
Junior flew to one, missed it, and fluttered to the ground.
Del and I spent the next hour watching Mom and Dad show Junior how to fly back to the limb. They coached, fed, watched over, called, and commanded.
But, he either couldn’t or wouldn’t fly to the limb.
He hopped under bushes, across the grass, or took short flights across the lawn. When he hopped into danger, they directed him back to safety.
We could empathize with the parents.
They were showing him exactly what to do, and he wasn’t doing it.
But they persisted, never abandoning him, and eventually, Junior got back to the tree. His parents never tried to do it for him; they simply guided him and then stepped aside.
Have you ever stood atop a mountain where you could see 360 degrees around you?
You could look down and see the path you took to climb the mountain. You could see other travelers making their way up the path.
You would be able to say to them, “Take this path. It’s easier, or watch out. There is a danger if you go that way.”
Growing “older” is like climbing a mountain. For each circle that the Earth takes around the sun, we go around the mountain once.
We are all on this journey.
We could call it the passing of years, but if used well, it’s a journey of wisdom and understanding.
On this journey, we have some choices.
We could circle the mountain on the path that goes round and round, never going any higher.
Or, we could take the spiral circle that takes us higher each time. Each pass around the mountain would give us clearer views and a more expanded world.
We could bring baggage on the journey or leave it behind.
Our baggage might be regrets, have-to-dos, want-this, sorrow, guilt, or the fear of leaving stuff behind.
When we carry baggage, we miss the point of the journey.
We become obsessed with caring for baggage rather than seeing the view.
When we leave our baggage behind, our journey becomes much more manageable. We have room for wisdom and understanding because we are not burdened and stuffed with old ideas.
Which brings me back to our bird friends, the cardinals.
Mom and Dad had the wisdom to see what needed to be done and understood what couldn’t be done. Junior was beginning his journey.
He was fearless, joyful, and excited.
Wherever you are on your life journey, pause for a moment.
Have you retained your joy, excitement, and trust while gaining wisdom and understanding?
If not, are you carrying unnecessary baggage?
Go ahead, drop that baggage.
Step onto the spiral path that takes you higher, and the view will be beautiful every step of the way.
The choice isn’t whether or not we circle the mountain—it’s how high we go and what we learn along the way.