I sat inside of the RV, just watching a lone bird on the telephone wire. One little bird, all alone? Hmmmm. I wondered why she was there all by herself? I’m accustomed to seeing many of them “chirp-chat” together, flutter off and on, making me jealous of their free-spiritedness. The camaraderie is so alluring and playful.

But not today. Today, ONE bird highlighted the soul-space we know as solitude. I guess we’re all familiar with the feeling of being surrounded by many, but realizing that the only voice that can really make a difference in our situation is the one inside of our own head. Sometimes we get confused and we say we’re “feeling lonely”, when in reality we are being confronted with ourselves. Our soul needs and is experiencing SOLITUDE.

I think it’s not so much that we SEEK solitude, but that we find ourselves in the reality of it. Immersed IN it. And in no way would I ever want to diminish the beauty of synergy and connectedness… but in the quiet of our mind we know this truth. We have to “handle” who we are, alone. The disappointments and inner pain, this is the sole task. (Maybe better stated, soul-task).

Wrapped up in the vision of this little bird was vulnerability, risk, strength, vision and purpose. And yet there was also a tentativeness I felt as she stayed on the wire a little too long. (Or maybe longer than I thought she should). I was silently cheering for her. “You can do this” (whatever it is).

I imagined she was gathering inner strength, centering herself for the task ahead, deep breathing (do birds do that?), thinking through the knowns and wondering about the unknowns. Maybe she was talking herself out of going back from where she came; back to the safety of the crowd.  Ambiguity in the crowd is appealing and…safe.

And then she boldly leaped from the wire. For a brief second it looked like she was falling, but she caught the wind and soared across the prairie grass- low, graceful and fluid-like. She did it! I felt so proud of her. I sat mesmerized looking at the empty wire. A lone little bird was my teacher.

Sometimes ONE must do  what MANY cannot.