In this time between what used to be and what’s becoming, I’ve been doing a ton of exploring and question-asking; research and discovery. I’ve been flexing all of the nerves and brain structures responsible for my curiosity -- which is on complete and total overdrive -- for the sake of my company, Enlivened Studios, yes. And also just for...me.
But is it too much?
I’m reading one book on Liberating Structures, one on Buddhism and I drop in and out of Glennon Doyle’s new memoir from time to time. I have an article on neuroscience I review with my highlighter. Three of my favorite podcasts are always queued up and ready for my next solo walk, sans kids. I join two weekly calls with my applied improv community (AIN) and a Saturday writing circle with Ann Randolph. And whenever I can, I drop into workshops and classes hosted by people and organizations whose missions and teachings I admire.
Hmmm...now that it’s down on paper, yikes.
The other night, at my neighbor’s socially distanced happy hour, my new friend Amy professed to being somewhat of a Bird Nerd (my words, not hers). We were talking about pets, and she and her husband told us about their cockatiel who Amy loves and considers part of the family and who her husband would rather have replaced by...well, any other living creature.
And here’s the greatest thing about this bird. When I asked whether they let him out of his cage, Amy told us casually that yes, he’s free to fly around the house from time to time. However, the cockatiel doesn’t know how to land. He flies and flies until returning back to his cage, where he quite successfully lands on his perch. He knows how to return home.
I haven’t been able to shake this story since I heard it. Not only because I find it hilarious that this bird, who is sort of a misfit in the family, doesn’t know how to land. But because I knew there was an analogy in there somewhere. A story to tell.
And this morning, I figured it out. I am the cockatiel.
The books. The podcasts. The research and advice seeking. They’re all outside of myself. And I’m flying and flitting through the knowings of other people -- experts, teachers, the collective of those I’m convinced have it all figured out -- just trying to land.
When maybe the best place for me is home; here, with my own deep understanding of things as they are. For me. My version of how workshops are run. My take on healing and process and impact. My way of wondering and choosing; trying things out just to see what fuels aliveness.
My core value is curiosity. So to be clear, I have no plans of ignoring the wisdom of others. I’ll still download the podcasts and dog-ear pages other people have written. But after all this time flying, my wings are a little tired. I need a break from the
out-there-edness to see what’s right here inside.
I think I’ll head home now, to land.