I have tried before to harness the power of positive thinking. But I used to feel worse than I already did. I became angrier over how things never worked out the way I wanted them to. So, one fine day, I just stopped. I am unsure when exactly it happened or what led to it. I only know that letting go of positivism, during certain times, was the best decision I could have made.
It liberated me. It taught me that karma isn’t some magic trick. Nobody owes us anything. First, we see the rabbit. And then, we don’t. But there is no argument over where the rabbit is.
Many birds feel shy around humans. Perhaps, they are just terrified. Why wouldn’t they be? Our species has a dubious track record. We are like the meteor that killed the dinosaurs, except that we think we can repair the damage. Start all over again. Make everything bloom.
Look at me, for instance. I pollute the air that birds breathe in just by driving to where they live. I also contribute to a process that takes away food from their beaks. Yet I fetishize their existence. And I spend time promoting my passion for them instead of helping conserve their habitats.
Birds needn’t feel shy around me. They should be terror-stricken.
There’s something intoxicating about new experiences. Good or bad, it leaves behind a sweet itching in our throats; a calamitous aching for more. Yet we remain obsessed about our precious routines too. We hold them close in fear of being asphyxiated otherwise.
Perhaps the truth is that we want some facets of our lives to turn into ticking bombs filled with confetti and love. And others, soggy and lukewarm, filled with predictability.
Birding at new locations is always a thrill. A rejuvenating experience irrespective of how many birds show up. Or whatever happens along the way.