I smell poop…

I smell poop!

The birds circled over us feverishly – diving majestically towards the carcass, ruthlessly tearing off scraps, soaring to heights in easy careless glides.

I have a bad feeling about this.

You have a bad feeling about this? Tad surprised. Tad amused.

Minutes before, we had scrambled out of the car. A certain nine-year-old who often plays naturalist in the family (with sometimes impressive and sometimes dubious information) had tugged my hand fiercely to get as close to these birds as it was safely possible.

Their wingspan was immense. Their flight royal and easy.  Something menacing, something regal, they owned the skies. They owned the air above our heads.

In awe and excitement, jaws slightly ajar, we gaped at the birds. They were American Bald Eagles. Swarms of Bald Eagles. They were breathtaking.

Not a great picture - but if you look closely, you'll see about seven bald eagles

Till excitement was replaced by fear. Valid fear.

They’re going to poop on us!

They’re going to poop on us?
Unable to hold back laughter: It will be bald eagle poop. It's not too often we have bald eagles pooping on us... broken off by more laughter.

In the splendor of the moment, one nine-year-old’s mind was held captive by a gnawing worry. It cracked me up. The humanness of it cracked me up.

It’s remarkable, how in the most breathtaking moments of our lives, we are sometimes preoccupied by something different. Something insignificant. Something unrelated. Something valid. Something practical. And even if it takes away from the grandiosity of the moment, it is our humanness. It is who we are.

Sometimes, we override this humanness or even limitedness, as some would call it; other times we are held captive by it.   

In this case, I suggested we move slightly away, in a different direction – which we did, and the nine-year-old forgot her fear (or chose to) and decided to take in the moment, and all of its wonder.

This is just a funny silly little story, yet its truth is overreaching. Do we get in our way more often than we imagine? But again, it is our humanness. It is simply who we are. It is simply what our fears are.

Interestingly enough, in hindsight, the moment is often perfect. Our mind’s sieves filter out the anxieties, the discomfort, the apprehensions. Perhaps it is a survival mechanism. Perhaps it is the strength of our species.
So, if we are going to forget the apprehensions and weaknesses later on, is there a way to bridge the gap in the moment? Presence of mind, fast-forwarding to how we will see the event in the future, letting go in the knowledge that the anxiety is only in this moment and not in the future…

For in the future, we will hold on to mostly the good… and that must be a strength of our species.

Video: swirling bald eagles, our voices, our conversation, fear, laughter...