feed the birds

This weekend my mood went to the birds. I had spent Saturday morning in a sort of a funk. It was not exactly a bad mood, as I was able to enjoy time reconnecting with a friend I had not seen in a while. And the sun was shining brilliantly—a fact that oftentimes has tremendous uplifting powers for me. But on a deeper level I was conflicted. I was battling my own moodiness—a darkness stemming from my inability to control my own emotions: an inability to be who I wanted to be . . . to love the way I wanted to love. I was, in short, feeling my fallenness. And this was the self that I brought into an afternoon intended to be spent planning the necessary logistics for a soon-to-come future together.
As we headed out, I couldn’t pretend anything other than where I was, so I just blurted it out, admitting that I was not in a good state of mind to be figuring out details. I ended with a sigh, “I wish there was a pretty place to go . . . somewhere to just be in beauty.” Rather than responding with any hint of disappointment, he just nodded and suggested we go to the lake. “Oh!” I said. “Could we? That sounds wonderful!” So we scrapped the intended destination and, instead, walked along the lake. For a spot smack dab in the middle of the city, I was shocked by how immediately soothing I found the sight of the water and the feel of the breeze.
Then, we fed the birds. I shrieked at the feel of the seagull wings sweeping against my hair, and beaks brushing my fingers. But they were shrieks of joy, coming from a wide-mouthed smile. And, just like that, the fog in my soul lifted. We even ended up carrying on with our intended agenda after all, with positivity.
Since that moment I have been musing on the frailty of my inner workings, and on the futility of placing any sort of confidence in my own skills. There is no goodness in me that can rise to the challenge of what a life can toss in my path. There is no amount of control I can muster to counteract the emotional ups and downs that buffet this brain on any given day. There is no “self” that is worth having confidence in.
But there is One who is.