The Hummingbird
Do you know the story of the hummingbird? This story is one of my favorite fables. It’s about a hummingbird who tries to save their forest from a terrible fire by bringing water to the fire in their tiny beak. The story can be found here - Hummingbird
The story of the hummingbird reminds me to always pitch in no matter the challenge. I find this philosophy extremely helpful in the current landscape of our times. When I am distressed about the current drought, I know that watering my garden less is my small bit of helpfulness. I don’t flush my toilet as often (sorry, is that TMI?). Worrying about global warming, I drive a hybrid car, and I try to minimize my trips. I use a solar source for the electricity in my home. I use reusable bags when shopping. When it isn’t super hot, I can be found walking to the local yoga studio and even a nearby supermarket. Back in December 2020 when the Johnson & Johnson vaccine was looking for volunteers to test the vaccine, I signed up to be a test subject. Granted, these are small steps to help out in the world, but they help nonetheless.
I enjoy being a hummingbird. I find purpose in doing things that I feel will be impactful, no matter how small the impact. When I speak about body respect, accepting one’s body rather than hitching my wagon to diet culture, I feel like I am putting a dent in the idea that smaller bodies are better bodies.
I can be pretty persistent as well. I don’t give up on trying to help the earth even when I see that climate change is raging. I keep my beak filled with water, and I keep bringing water to the fire. Sometimes, my pitching in outlives its usefulness. I have stayed too long in relationships; I’ve stayed to long in jobs. But for the most part I find that being a hummingbird suits me. I can do my part and make a difference, even if it’s just a tiny bit.
One of the volunteer activities I like to do is to lead meditation on Zoom for my Buddhist Sangha. Four to six mornings a month, I will lead the group in: the Sangha Opening, 20 minute meditation, Going for Refuge, and Bodhisattva vows. After leading this practice over 100 times, I feel like I’ve got all the lines memorized. When I started leading back in April or May of 2020 I would have the papers handy with the words printed out. These days, I don’t use the papers. For whatever reason, the Sangha Opening was the last ritual I struggled to remember. Now I have it mastered.
About 2 weeks ago, my brother and I met in San Diego to visit our 90-year old aunt. We filled our days with trips to her home; we listened to her tell stories about our family and reminisced about fun times together. There was no time for me to lead a meditation practice or to even sit with the sangha while someone else led the meditation. So when I left San Diego, I was excited to return to my morning meditation practice with the group I usually sit with. After 5 mornings away, I sat down in front of my iPad screen ready to meditate and waited for the lead to start the Zoom meeting. I was grateful I wasn’t leading that day; I figured I would be a little rusty with the ritual after 5 days away. I waited for a few minutes and the meditation didn’t start. I texted some of the other meditators. They were also waiting for the meeting to start. I texted the assigned lead to remind him that he was leading meditation that morning. I hoped everything was okay at his house. Finally, one of the other leaders started the meeting. She’s a regular. Not only does she lead meditation 4-6 times a month, but she is there every day. Like me, she knows the drill. She seemed a little flustered though. It’s one thing to be scheduled to lead meditation. It’s another to learn when it’s 2 minutes late that you will be the leader. I sent my compassion for her through the screen. (Wait? Is that even possible? Well, my intention was there.) As she started the ritual and she started to recite the Sangha Opening, she began to stumble. She struggled to get the words out. It seemed that she couldn’t remember them, and her paper wasn’t in front of her. Suddenly my “hummingbird self” kicked in. I unmuted myself and began to recite the Sangha Opening, picking up where she had left off. Just like the words detailed in the opening: I was flowing like a river with no more separation.
Clearly I had not forgotten the words to our ritual. More importantly, I was able to give just a little bit, and it made all the difference. After I finished the Sangha Opening, the meditation session continued as planned. I was grateful to be a hummingbird that morning.
