This past Sunday was Father’s Day here in the US. But I called my dad on Saturday because I didn’t want to deal with busy phone lines or trying to catch Dad when he was home and not at church or on the phone with one of my other three siblings. I wanted time to just visit and let our conversation flow as it would.
Much of our conversation was about the birds we’d seen recently, he in the deserts of Arizona and me in the mountains of New York. I shared about seeing an American Redstart and he shared about seeing the Painted Redstart.
I mentioned our Baltimore Oriole, he mentioned the Scott’s Oriole. I commented about loving the song of the Rose-breasted Grosbeak and he agreed.
From the time I was little, my dad taught me to identify and name the birds that surrounded our home. I learned all the common ones and many not-so-common. Even more importantly, I learned to appreciate the beauty and the music they bring into our lives, and I learned how to sit in stillness to watch for them, to be ready to receive their gifts.
And I didn’t realize then what a good practice bird-watching was for doing Muse-watching.
- Stillness. While you might have to go for a walk in the woods to see the birds, or drive to a nature center or preserve, once there, you have to be still. Some birds are shy. Some birds don’t move a lot. So you have to stop moving, get still and centered so that you become part of the environment. Then the birds go about their business and you can observe them. It’s the same way with your Muse. You have to get to where your Muse is, i.e. your studio, office, or place outside your home, but then you have to get still…and observe.
- Silence. Along with stillness, you need to be quiet for two reasons. One, so you don’t scare the birds away, and two, so you can hear their songs. Being able to hear the birds is important because sometimes you can find them or identify them by their calls before you even see them. Have you ever noticed how you can be outside working in your garden or whatever, your mind going a mile a minute or you’re talking with someone and suddenly, once you or your mind becomes silent, you hear the cardinal singing in the tree behind you? It’s like that with your Muse. You have to get silent, sometimes outwardly, but definitely inwardly in order to hear your Muse calling to you.
- Patience and presence. As a bird-watcher you need to be patient. You may have to sit for many minutes or even hours to see that one bird you are looking for. Or, you may have to come back another day. Bird-watching teaches patience and presence. You can either spend your time thinking of all the things you should be doing or will do as soon as you leave, OR you can get still and silent, waiting for the beauty and mystery of the moment to reveal itself to you. You might not see your bird but you might hear the whisper of the wind through the trees, or see the way the sunlight changes the color of the leaf. Patience and presence is necessary for your Muse as well. Sometimes, she’ll come winging her way to you as quickly as she can beat her wings. But other times, she’ll be shy or reluctant or distracted. Then, you need to be still and silent and wait, so that she can see how willing you are to be present for her and her gifts, the one that may be hidden in the breath of a breeze or the angle of light.
So if you are having trouble connecting with your Muse, if you haven’t seen her for a while, or even heard from her, think of her as a rare and beautiful songbird.
And go Muse-watching.