PERMISSION TO PERCH
PERMISSION TO PERCH
“THE HIGHEST REWARD FOR A PERSON’S TOIL IS NOT WHAT THEY GET FOR IT, BUT WHAT THEY BECOME.” —John Ruskin
Every summer, unintentionally, I have at least one day that I deem a “No Goal” day. I never surrender to it without a struggle, even though my body desperately needs it. I have noticed that giving in is easier when it rains and storms. This summer, it rained often—until it didn’t, and the relentless heat arrived. After a long string of days when the heat curtailed my porch time, I returned home from the gym to a temperature below seventy degrees and a comfortable level of humidity. The sky was -well, “sky blue” and cloudless. A constant cool breeze rustled the green leaves of the maple and magnolia trees. The engines of planes flying overhead sounded distant, muted, and unintrusive. Street traffic was barely noticeable, and, surprisingly, no one was mowing a lawn. It was a perfectly pristine day for “No Goals.”
Immediately, I thought, “This is not the time.” The house needed tidying. The textile art project that had taken ALL SUMMER needed to be completed, and a vacation requiring strategically orchestrated packing was just around the corner. But then my eye—and my attention—was captured by one of the smallest birds in my ecosystem. She was drinking sugar water from the feeder. I watched her drink, fly to the tree in the yard, return to the butterfly plant below the feeder to sip nectar, and then perch on top of the feeder for an extended period—most unusual for her species. She repeated this rhythm again and again.
My tiny female ruby-throated hummingbird had a message for me. I call her mine because hummingbirds are territorial and return to the same place year after year.
My hummingbird was eating to double her weight for the impending solo journey over land and across five hundred miles of the Gulf of Mexico to Central America. If she could take time to perch and rest amid her pursuit of food and purpose, so could I. I followed her lead.
I set goals for each day. However, on this “NO GOAL” day, I chose a mindset of rest and relaxation. I tried to disengage from anything and everything that felt like work. It was to be a mindless, goalless day. She seemed to know when I was struggling. Every time I was tempted to do otherwise, the tiny, delicate creature returned to sit on the feeder—as if to remind me that rest, too, has a purpose.
Now for you, what keeps you from periodically doing the same?
From the outside looking in, you might have declared that I got nothing from the day. From the inside looking out, the reward was a rebooted, rejuvenated, and resurrected Gwen—ready not merely to do more, but to become more.
PONDER THIS THOUGHT—A waste of time and time spent in restorative rest are not the same.
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