There’s a house around the corner that I’ve been noticing for the past few years, probably because someone flipped it, then someone bought it, and now it seems to have fallen on hard times again —— trash and cars and household items in the yard. It feels like there’s a story there, and maybe that’s why I find it impossible to ignore. But also the vehicles in the yard are always changing, so I have some questions.
One morning this week as I drove past the house, I noticed a hummingbird feeder in a small tree near the road. A hummingbird feeder in a tree in a yard with piles of trash and cars in varying states of disrepair. I tell you the truth: I cannot stop thinking about this hummingbird feeder.
For the record, I’m not here with judgment toward the house with the cars and the trash. My son’s truck doesn’t run, and it’s been sitting beside the driveway for over a year. My youngest son keeps the grass mowed and the weeds whacked, but the yard would look better if I made it a priority. More to the point, if we could visualize my entire life as a house (work, relationships, family, goals, etc. etc.), then we’d see some trash and broken things in my yard. That mess would be visible to anyone who drove by. So truly, no judgment. It’s just noticing. But that hummingbird feeder led me to something beyond noticing.
This week I won a StorySlam (and a pint glass), and it was the medicine I needed. I’m in that place where I’m aware of the things in my life that haven’t changed, despite my best efforts. I’m also feeling the depth of my own shortcomings. Maybe (gasp!) I’m feeling a bit sorry for myself at times. The win was a reminder that sometimes efforts yield tangible results. I think efforts always yield results in that working toward something changes us, but it might be nice to do a little less growing as a person and see a little more in terms of actual outcomes. Then I saw the hummingbird feeder.
That hummingbird feeder makes me wonder about the way hope and despair coexist. It makes me feel something about beauty and chaos and the way neither cancels the other out. The hummingbird feeder feels like an invitation to remember that my life can be beautiful even if I don’t love all its contours:
I work really hard but I don’t know how I’ll send my youngest to college or help him get a car.
I write lots of words but have yet to receive the stamp of approval of a publisher.
I’ve dated on and off for the past six years and still don’t have a partner.
I’m raising a teenage boy all on my own, and it is no joke.
My body is changing as I age and I have feelings about that.
All of those things are true, and on any given day one or all of them may grab hold of my mind and heart and demand to be paid attention to. Some days they want a lot of attention. But this summer I will see as many concerts as I can. I’ve made a poetry pact with a friend to hold each other accountable for writing new poems each month. In December I’ll tell a story for a GrandSlam. I’ll finish writing a book of essays this year. I’ll walk miles and miles in the woods, I’ll sit with friends for hours over drinks and meals and coffee, I’ll play Codenames and Cards Against Humanity with my kids, and I’ll see the sunrise at the beach. The other day on a morning walk with a friend I heard a great horned owl. When I remember to, I hold Mary Oliver’s words close to my heart: Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable.
Most of us don’t have it all together. Most of us have some messes in our proverbial yards. Yet we still get to hang a shingle for hope and joy and fun. Even as we contend with serious things, let’s not deprive ourselves of a hummingbird feeder.
I’ll leave you with a few recommendations on the way out because joy for me often comes in the form of music and books:
Songs I can’t stop listening to: “Call Your Mom” by Noah Kahan, “Badlands” by Mumford and Sons, “The Walk” by Airborne Toxic Event, and “Montana” by Chance Pena.
Novels I’ve read recently: The Female Persuasion by Meg Wolitzer, The Satisfaction Cafe by Kathy Wang, and The Stationery Shop by Marjan Kamali. These might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I enjoyed them. Of the three, I’d say The Stationery Shop would probably have the broadest appeal.
If you need to feel something, I recommend some chorale music, specifically Dan Forrest’s Requiem for the Living and Mozart’s Mass in C Minor. I heard these performed this weekend at a gorgeous Catholic cathedral, and it changed me.
Some poems I’ve read (or read again) recently and loved: “The Map Our Dreaming Makes” by Jan Richardson, “Don’t Worry” by Mary Oliver, and “Let the Way Itself Arrive” by Rumi.
Comment with some recommendations!
Like this letter Nina, especially the part about things not changing despite your best efforts, and still choosing to keep showing up. That mix of hope and frustration is very real. he hummingbird moment stayed with me too… that sense that both things can exist at once( what’s hard and what’s still quietly beautiful.)And I smiled at the StorySlam win , sometimes you just need something tangible to remind you it’s not all invisible.
I’ll have to come back to the music and poems you shared they sound like the kind of things you sit with rather than just listen to.
I keep coming back to “Wild Geese” by Mary Oliver in that kind of space