What If We Were Like the Birds?

I noticed the birds playing in the rain today. They were finding puddles in the mud and flapping their little wings and chirping about, even though an actual birdbath was only a couple feet away from them. It was an odd sight before me, as someone who hasn't dealt with much rain in the last five years of her life. Though a harsh storm hadn't rolled in, I was still surprised to see so much wildlife up and about as I did my best to cover my little Yorkie with my pink umbrella so he could go to the bathroom comfortably. He hates the rain.

I had sort of assumed that when the rain would begin to fall, all of Earth's little critters and creatures would go hiding in their respective little homes as they would wait for better weather to come about. Except for obviously like the worms and snails and such.

But here was the rain and there were the birds. They were chirping as if the sun were out. Playing and flying all about. They gave up the manmade birdbath that the old lady in my complex carefully fills with purified water every day and in their little group they danced around in muddy puddles. As happy as if the sun were shining bright in the sky surrounded by white fluffy clouds.

And such is life. We have been taught to compare our hardest times to that of the rain. Wait for it to pass and the sun will shine again. But even the creatures of the Earth have found a way to dance in what we consider our darkest days. Rather than waiting for sun to shine again so they could bathe in their purified watered birdbath, these little birdies joyously danced in puddles created by the rain we are taught to see as a metaphor for our pain.

What if we were like these birds? I thought as I let my umbrella fall to my side, allowing myself to feel the same rain these birds played in. The old mantra of life crossed my mind. Wait for the storms to pass and saved your best self for when the sun shines again. Many of us wait to bathe in the birdbath with purified water on clear days. We hide when the hard moments come. Hold our breath for the tough times to pass. Plotting how we will celebrate when everything gets better again.

We spend so long being taught that the weather will change, and so will our circumstances. So many of us have begun to find hope when rain stops, believing it means something for our life too.

But what if we were like the birds? Rather than hiding and waiting for pain to fade and better days to come, what if we danced in muddy puddles? What if we flapped our little wings in the hardest of our circumstances, still being ourselves even when the world around us was entirely out of our control? Instead of waiting for days where we could enjoy our life in comfort, like a birdbath filled with purified water by a little old lady, what if we found joy in what the storm has created?

I write this as the rain comes down harder with the winds pick up stronger. And yet, there are the birds. So many flying to and from the different trees. A little group of them dancing around the grass. And yes, there they are bathing in the muddy puddles. Even as the rain comes down harder, still the birds enjoy the rain as if it was the brightest and sunniest day.

So, for the rest of our lives, even on the hardest of days,

what if we were like the birds?