The Fledgling

Last week at my Survivorship class the topic was coping with the emotional aspects of Survivorship.  After an insightful look at this phase of the cancer journey, our instructor gave us a homework assignment.  She asked us to consciously pay attention to small moments and she gave the example of enjoying the aroma of fresh ground coffee and focusing on it for at least 10 seconds.  The next day I had one of those moments and it gave me such a sense of peace that it has been with me since.

                      

 We have a lovely, old wisteria vine that frames part of the porch on our house.  Over the years, the wisteria has been home to families of robins.  This year we had another nest tucked up under the eaves and hidden by the cover of wisteria.  We could see the mother robin coming and going from the nest with grass and other nest building materials, but we couldn’t actually see the nest.  It wasn’t long before we saw the birds coming and going with worms in their beaks, so we knew that the babies had hatched and if we were outside, we could hear the twittering of the babies. 

Last Friday, I looked out back and saw this fledgling robin sitting on the back of our bench.  I know he must have flown from the nest and not fallen because he was perched comfortably on the bench.  He sat there for the longest time and seemed to be surveying the world.  I wondered if he was thinking, “Now, what do I do?”  As he sat there, I noticed his mother in the yard with a worm in her beak.  I watched to see what she would do and, sure enough, she flew over to the bench and perched next to her baby and fed him the worm. Mom quickly flew off but the baby stayed.  I left my bird-watching post and when I came back, the fledgling was gone. I am pretty sure he flew safely away because I searched the area near where he had been perched and there was no sign of him.  According to Wikipedia, fledglings stay around their parents and beg for food and the parents watch out for their safety for few days.  After about two weeks, the little birds are expert fliers. I pray that my little fledgling is well and successfully beginning his new life.  What a beautiful small moment this was. 

Savoring small moments seems to be more poignant to me since I have been diagnosed with multiple myeloma.  My diagnosis of an incurable cancer has changed me in many ways. For example, I often feel that I have lost myself and who I used to be and I struggle to keep in perspective that this cancer is NOT who I am. 

Not all of the changes have been negative, however, and I can clearly see that treasuring the poignancy of small moments is a positive change that can help lead me to a sense of inner peace.   

No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings.

                                                - William Blake