Alexander Reminders Arising Out of Trees

We were learning a new part of a form in Qi Gong class this morning, one where one of the hands moves across the body around the waist and then the alternate hand does this.  Some of us in the class were leaning over, perhaps unaware or perhaps helping the hand doing the movement.  Master Li pointed this out and then I heard the birds.  The trees were so tall in the area we were in and as the birds sang out I spontaneously rose up to hear them better.  As the class went on I let me ears lead me forward and up.  I smiled at yet another reminder from nature about this important aspect of movement delineated by FM Alexander.

As the class progressed the birds continued to remind me to think "up" as I learned these new moves.  To be wide and open, to listen to Master Li's verbal instruction, but to also learn from the graceful way in which he moves.  Unfortunately a recently discovered hernia began to garner my attention and soon I sat out the rest of the class, focusing my energy on this area with hope that it may heal.  As I type I hear the birds singing their nightly lullabies and am again reminded to be forward and up, long and wide.  Be free, be open and sing. Ever grateful for the reminders however they arise.

Photo by Noel Pennington

Morning Thought

May all of my sounds of protection and alarm today, be expressed like bird song.

The Reminder

As my sitting came to a close this morning, the birds began to sing.  A pleasant reminder that life goes on, as my sleep and my sitting had been clouded by the news of the loss of a friend.  Combined with the collective sense of loss in Japan right now, the feelings can settle in and overwhelm.  But I am more than my feelings.  The birds continue to serenade me. Where would I be without their song, calling me back to life?  May we all sing our song as beautifully and fully as the birds.

What Can I Learn From Listening to the Birds

          http://www.flickr.com/photos/pinksherbet/3525789310/

One of the joys of living in an "urban forest," is the amount and variety of birds that we attract. As we approach the summer solstice their song is loud enough to wake me at 4:30 am when the windows are open. Their song so lovely with crescendi conducted by the almighty. I am content to listen with wonder, frequently surprised at the melodies that take the forefront.  The occasional train or plane in the distance providing a drone to support the harmony. Then when I think their play has come to an end, I am pleasantly surprised as new song begins.

One morning a few years ago, during a period of financial concerns, I was listening to the birds. Delighting in the days musical selection, a small useful insight emerged. The birds were singing joyfully with no idea where their next worm would come from. With nothing more than a hodgepodge of twigs and vines for shelter and their lovely song as warning to steer clear, the birds were just being birds. Singing away, distracting me from my concerns, and still surviving.

Looking up I see one struggling with a longish thin leaf that has dried. He is resting on the fence and trying to take this precious housing material to the nest. After his third effort he lets go and returns to his perch just above me to sing of his trials. Or perhaps to celebrate still being alive in this moment. The trio of squirels dancing in the tree tops not ruffling his presence.

I  marvel how such a small animal can produce such volume of sound. I envy how effortlessly the prized possession for the nest was let go of. Can I let go so easily? Sing my song so confidently? Just be who I am?