When she was three years old, my daughter called them “bird-noculars,” and I picked up an old pair to observe a white heron across the lake. How are these birds both awkward and graceful at once? My mom says that every time she sees this bird fly, it takes her breath away.
As I looked, however, I had to stifle a yawn.
This reminded me of trips to a Zen Buddhist temple for meditation. I hoped, even expected, some revelation or insight. Mostly, I was bored.
Other people in the room sat as still as statues with peaceful countenances carved into their faces. I envied them as I fidgeted. They say good things come to those who wait, yet I am more wired like the ancient man who prayed for the Lord to give him patience—right now!
I asked one friend to tell me the secret of meditation. He shrugged. “Keep sitting.”
This heron across the lake kept standing. My mind wandered from the bird to the bird-noculars and to my little girl.
She is now six years old, and earlier in the day, she had strapped on a life jacket and jumped into the water. “I’m a buoy!” I chuckled at the memory, and — serendipity! — the heron took flight over the lake and soon disappeared from sight.
Andrew Taylor-Troutman is the author of “Little Big Moments,” a collection of mini-essays about parenting, and “Tigers, Mice & Strawberries: Poems.” Both titles are available most anywhere books are sold online. Taylor-Troutman lives in Chapel Hill where he serves as pastor of Chapel in the Pines Presbyterian Church and occasionally stumbles upon the wondrous while in search of his next cup of coffee.
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