D. K. Christi as guest speaker at Unity of Bonita Springs August 2016
D. K. Christi as guest speaker at Unity of Bonita Springs August 2016
If you were at Unity last week, you will recall my little bird who was building a nest in the plumeria outside my office window. I was fascinated by his persistence. The tree is totally inhospitable for nest building with thick limbs far apart that look like dead sticks once the tropical wide leaves and thick, golden blooms drop to the ground. But the bird continued unbeaten, dropping like a bomb to pick up the sticks that consistently fell and flying back with them in his mouth to start again and again, like a flying elevator. I wanted to help.
Not one to miss a lesson from nature, I was impressed by his persistence in the face of insurmountable odds. It was a lesson in never giving up in spite of major challenges.
I glanced out the window over the week to catch a glimpse of my industrious birds, looking forward to watching them in the future as they moved in and started a family. They no longer occupied the tree. At last, with concern, I went outside to look at their engineering marvel close up. All I saw was a helter skelter collection of odd-size twigs that balanced precariously, the remains of any that might have resembled nest-building at some point. It was obvious that the potential new home for Mr. and Mrs. Bird and their young was abandoned along with my lesson in perseverance.
I pondered my birds as I walked on the path at the beach, another grand experience with nature that seems to open the mind to new possibilities. At some point, the Serenity Prayer, adopted by many twelve step groups, came to mind. “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.” Well, well, my birds did provide a life lesson from nature after all. Even they reached a point where the courage to change the things they could was not sufficient to overcome an impossible situation. They had the instinct to know the difference, and they moved on.
Lesson from nature? Remembering to call on “the wisdom to know the difference” gives us permission to leave the impossible behind and move on to new challenges.
A year ago my son hung a pretty, etched bird feeder just outside my office window from my frangiopanji tree. A storm blew it down.
This year he hung two bird feeders that have remained and attracted a wide variety of song birds much to my enjoyment.
They must not see me in the window as they eat and sing away in every color of the rainbow. It’s a matter of perspective, but I think the most beautiful is the painted bunting. However, the bright red cardinals are right up there.
My window gives me a lot of joy as I write each day.
I’ve added the Ghost Orchid video as a reminder that Ghost Orchid tucked in an orchid plant is a perfect mother’s day gift. Ghost Orchid asks if love is eternal, especially a mother’s love.
I’m grateful for this interim spring weather in Southwest Florida. The morning and afternoon heat is cooled by the afternoon showers often accompanied by one or two magical rainbows. I must smile. How can the fingers of gloom find their way through such perfect weather?
All around me are reasons for worry and shedding a tear, but the heavens are just not cooperative. I remember the weeks of gloomy Michigan weather, good for building depressive thoughts. It takes a real effort or illness to overcome sunny days, cool nights, clean air, bright moons and amazing sunsets on the Gulf.
Ah, life is worth living. I read a Chinese fortune in a cookie today: “Live as though life is an exclamation not an explanation.” Hmmmm. Food for thought. Pardon the play on words.
Such a magnificent ending to a troubled year. I decided at the last minute to take a quick drive down by the Gulf, seeing that the sun was dropping quickly as an afterthought. There wasn’t time to park where I have a sticker and run to the shore for a really great setting sun experience. Instead, mother and i moved through the parking lots, peeking through the already parked cars and the people framed by the dropping sun behind them, dark silhouettes surrounded by a golden glow. Just before the blazing sun dropped through the clouds already tinged with rose, we had an opening to watch it sink into the sea, an oriental lantern as it lost its shape to the horizon. We left quickly and drove east on Bonita Beach Road toward the rising full moon, now rising through lavender clouds in a rose and lavender streaked sky. My mother and I remarked repeatedly how amazing it was to experience such natural beauty in one full sweep from West to East. It was nearly overpowering. Sometimes when I know the moon is setting in the sea in the morning I wonder if it can be seen next to the rising sun. I’ll need to check that out some morning. Right now, I’m enjoying the full moon. Born to the sign of Cancer, I am sensitive to the moon and tides. When I lived on Lady Ace in Georgetown Harbor, I would try to read by the moon on the white deck it was so bright. It’s bright light now shines through my bedroom windows. Ah, the full moon is pure romance for me – the romance of adventure and the excitement of love. Yes, I associate that full moon with more than tides and light but also with a heart beating and a love filled night.
I called them on the cell phone and left a message, “Did you hear the weather report? A severe thunderstorm is predicted and I can see the wind already.” Of course, she doesn’t need a cell phone, so she seldom checks hers.
I continued to Hemingway’s at Coconut Point for an evening of dining outside to enjoy the entertainment with friends and their children. The sky looked really black in the direction of the restaurant.
I waited for them in the 30 knot winds and beginning rain that turned to a slushy composition threatening hail. Not another soul was braving the outdoor weather; the musician pulled his equipment to somewhere less threatening.
After several fruitless cell phone calls, I returned home in a downpour with heavy winds; it’s what I call, “God’s free car wash.”
Finally I received a cell call wondering where I was – an hour past our appointed time to meet. They had finally arrived and were enjoying the music – inside. They had no concept of my frustrating waiting time with the impending storm.
It’s only a five minute drive, so I returned. The storm passed and we were able to spend the evening outside in cool air, a steady cool breeze leftover from the storm, huge cumulus still staring down at us in anger, but spent.
The little boys were thrilled with the turtles and fish in the pond below and beyond the terrace. They were also fascinated with the musician’s computer. Fortunately, there were good fences. The group of people that made it through the storm were a dancing bunch, sort of gathering in groups to the beat of the singular musician who managed to sound like a band and imitate Elvis Presley though his appearance came nowhere close.
It was a full evening that had a shaky start but ended with a cool, summer evening among friends, good music and a great atmosphere. Life is good.