Confessions of A Satisfied Yellow Bird

A Story, A Practice Suggestion & Not Quite One Inch Photo

Photo by Philip Brown on Unsplash

The other day I spent time with a friend who shares my love for stories, language and learning.  During our conversation the topic turned (of course) to our most recent reads, the new writers we’d discovered, and the stories that had caught our hearts and imaginations. It was joyous, (as it always is) to “talk books” with this treasured and insightful book buddy.

As we were discussing some of our favorite reads, she confessed that lately, she hadn’t been enjoying reading quite as much.  This surprised me, and when I asked her why she thought that was, she reminded me that for much of her academic and work life, it has been necessary to read efficiently, take in a great deal of content, comprehend it quickly and all of this often on a deadline.  But as of late, she would catch herself rushing through non-work related  books, trying to get to the end faster —and very importantly she noticed a gnawing anxiety about not finishing a book fast enough. There were so many more good books. There was so much to learn and what if she didn’t learn it fast enough?

I was very touched by this confession, and I recognized in myself that same strong pull to read more, do more, be more, the operative word always “more.”   I remembered a time when I was doing some hard personal work with a therapist. (I love my therapist by the way). I’d purchased or borrowed every book I could find on my particular experience.  I think I had an unconscious irrational hope that  if I could just take in enough of these good books really quickly, an easy solution would arise and perhaps magically I’d just understand, incorporate and “know” enough to avoid the hard, non-linear, sometimes painful real life work that it actually takes to heal.  Reading more books quickly was not the answer.  The answers or healing would come with time in process, and my willingness to “be” with the questions.    As we were talking  I envisioned all the precariously high stacks of books in my office alone, then I added the image of what was stacked in my library, on my bedside table and finally piled around my favorite cozy reading chair by the bay window off the kitchen.

Side note:   Later in life I discovered I had a visual processing challenge, which explained why reading had never been easy for me.  When I was a girl, there was still little known about visual processing differences and so most early elementary classrooms simply had three reading groups, the red birds, the blue birds and the yellow birds.  Everyone knew the red birds usually finished first and the yellow bird group usually finished last.  I was a yellow bird.   It is a testament to how much I love stories, poetry and learning that I’ve always been such a voracious reader.  I get there just fine, but it might take me a little longer.  I’ve found that listening to books or reading with particular filters to be enormously helpful, but I think those early yellow bird  experiences also contributed to my impulse to try to read faster.

Back to my conversation with my friend.  I told her that recently I had been occasionally opting for a paper book without filters, particularly spiritual writing or poetry — because it required me to slow down and read more intentionally.  I’ve been savoring each line a bit more and resisted the urge to read faster.   What was my hurry?I’ve reached the age when there are more days behind me than there ever could be in front of me.  There is not enough time to read all the good books in the world.  There will always be another story, another lovely book or something new to learn, and perhaps it was time to really “be” with each page, savor each image, and not worry so much about trying to get to the next thing before I’d truly been exactly where I was in that moment, with that story, only on that particular page.

I think, at least for myself,  this is not just an impulse to read faster.  We live in a culture that has technologically accelerated in the past two decades in a way never seen in all of human history.  We are inundated with carefully curated images of all the things we “should” be, all the places we “must” go, all the successes we really need to achieve to live our best lives.  We make light of this impulse calling it FOMO (fear of missing out), in the same way we make light of many other important thresholds we cross in the course of a lifetime by making jokes and calling them just an adolescent phase, midlife crisis, or empty nest syndrome. Perhaps we do this to help bring a little humor to what is difficult (humor being a balm), but sometimes I think our culture makes light because it is a way to not actually address the deep shifts that are happening, or consider what the uneasy and sometimes uncomfortable feelings are trying to tell us or help us to  learn.   

I took in what my friend was sensing as real, recognizing and having great empathy for the impulse to get there (where ever “there” might be).   So maybe that is our practice for this week, to slow down and do something that we have a tendency do quickly with a sense of spaciousness.  Is there some kinds of tasks that you have a tendency to do quickly to get to the next thing.  This could be something as simple as washing the dishes or vacuuming the living room.  It could be reading one page of a book or one poem in a collection.  It could be walking to the bus stop, taking your morning shower, writing a thoughtful letter instead of jotting off a quick email.  What might happen if we luxuriated in the feel of the warm water and suds?  Might we remember the hands that made the meal or grew the food, might we hum an old song instead of mop up the counter with a quick swipe?   What might happen if I stop at the end of the page, take a deep breath and look out the window for a while, considering the images, language and rhythm of the writing?

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Practice

Slow down and do something you tend to do quickly with more intentionality. Take at least twice as long as it to usually takes you to do this particular task. Notice if there are things you experience that you might have missed. If you feel an anxiety or impulse to get to the next thing - just take a couple of deep breaths - lay your hand on your heart and say, “I am right here, body and soul. There is no where else you need to be. This is the moment and the moment is good.”

Question

Did you try the practice? What happened?

(Feel free to respond to one another if someone’s story touches, intrigues or delights you. There is an old Quaker phrase “Friend, you speak to my condition” that is used when someone tells a story or speaks something that touched your heart. It’s a generosity we give one another, letting the other person know their story moved you and you are grateful they shared.)

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Touring Schedule

I’m looking forward to several very fun upcoming shows and retreats. You can get more details about specific public shows by clicking this LINK

Here is a video of a performance of the song “A Book of Questions” from my most recent string quartet performance. I think there are only a small handful of tickets left for my Indianapolis show, get yours soon.

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Fun Interviews and Reviews

Thank you to Dr. Susan Shaw for a thoughtful conversation and wonderful feature in Ms Magazine. https://msmagazine.com/2024/02/13/carrie-newcomer-a-great-wild-mercy/

Many Thanks to Kerry Dexter the lovely shout out in her beautiful and thoughtful blog for Wandering Educators. https://www.wanderingeducators.com/best/stories/music-wisdom-hope-connection

One Inch Photos

Not exactly one inch today…but how I love the way the mist floats through the forest.