Common Birds

the small things in March that bring us wonder

I heard the first robin this morning and it’s a blue, sunny sky at 7:30 am on a Saturday. Which means that winter isn’t taking itself too seriously any longer, and I can’t sleep until 11:00 and tell myself that I’m not depressed by the ways of the world. Montana can blow its fierce winds and growl its black ice for what convince you that they’re endless months—only as generous as a gray day can be, only as relieving as the repetition of dark early-nights and dark early-mornings. My dogs are trying to dig out a creature in the still-snow-covered berm behind my garden, a creature still trying to be dormant. I take dormancy very seriously.

It will all wake soon and I am not ready. The minute spring hits, I will be leading writing retreats and on a cross-country book tour promoting my forthcoming book, The Wild Why: Stories and Teachings to Uncover Your Wonder. I honestly can’t wait to see this book give its healing salve to its readers, just like how I feel about each retreat and its attendees for over a decade now. I am lucky to be in a position of teaching and creating wonder. We need our wonder in this worried world. But until these public, peopled events…I’d like to stay in hibernation just a bit longer. To write. To rest. To cook. To bake bread. To lie on the couch with the dogs and watch old movies and documentaries about artists that no one really wants to watch once the world awakens and beckons us out into it.

How has winter been for you? For most of us, it has been wobbly, wonky, and not so wonder-full. To say the least. A lot of us are just plain scared of what’s going on in the world and in our country. I try to stay off of politics in my writing and shine light, but I’ll admit it: I’m scared too. What shall we do to change that? I don’t like running scared. I like to lift my fear to the light and find the hope of big and little things. I think the little things are what will carry us most of all right now.

So let’s focus on the one wonder-full and little thing right before your very eyes? Within your reach. One thing that fuels your soul. Is it music you love and might have forgotten? Is it the idea of nourishing yourself with homemade food? Conversation with good friends, on couches in wool socks and sweaters? Sitting on your front stoop and only that: just sitting. Watching. Noticing. Not watching the news. Learning enough about what you can absorb so that you can try to do something about it, but not addicting yourself to it. Welcoming back the birds. Moving one foot in front of the other, not as a competition with yourself. Not counting steps. Counting dandelions. Chick-a-dees. The common birds that didn’t leave for winter. Can we call ourselves common birds?

I will be a common bird then for these dormant weeks. Quiet. Sitting and looking around. Looking for food and shelter and water and perches. Nesting before all the other birds migrate back. Staking my winter claim.

Maybe there will be peace in it. Maybe there will be solace. Humor seems like a stretch, but maybe yes. Humor too. I will abide by each March day until the world is full of songbirds, nesting and quarreling and flocking in the trees. Calling us out into the world. Calling us out into our wonder.

Whatever is left of your dormancy, may it be blessed by small things. Our lives are made of small things, after all. The snow has melted around the herb garden my daughter and her new husband planted after their wedding last fall. The herbs were in pots on each table instead of flowers. We gave them to guests at the end of the reception. The rest we planted in my garden and in theirs. I was told that the rosemary wouldn’t make it. Nor the lavender. Maybe the sage and likely the thyme. I went out to the garden this morning, bare feet on cold stone. And the herbs seem like they’ve lived. All of them.

Let’s take that as a sign. Let’s take all life as a sign that there is wonder in the world. No matter what.

Love,

Laura

Here’s a small thing that I know will be wonder-full:

Online Event for The Wild Why coming soon…

I will be leading a one hour virtual event on March 11 to celebrate my book. It will be available only to people who have preordered the book. We’ll talk about wonder, the dire need for it, how to recover it, and why it’s so vital to our civilization. I’ll do a short reading from the book, and hold a Q&A to talk about the book, and the process of writing it.

If you’ve already preordered the book, you are also invited! Here’s the form to fill out to get your invitation! I hope to see you there! Tuesday, March 11 at 2 PM PT / 5 PM ET.

Haven Writing Retreats

And there are still a few spots left on both of my June Haven Writing Retreats. For more info and to set up an intro call with me, go here. You do not have to be a writer to come to Haven. Just a word wanderer and wonderer.