No! You can't pull the double negative trick on me -- I've known it since probably third grade. Depression is really serious shit, something to never take lightly -- a hole that you must always climb into (to rescue) if you see it among family or friends. It is not an easy thing to talk about. I wrestled with myself as to whether this topic belonged here, or in my religious blog.
I chose here because I wanted the celebration to be light, joyous, and hopefully even non-religious people could attest to it as being something that could happen to them at any given moment in time.
In spite of the great mountains I have had to climb in my life, I have never fallen so deeply into despair that I could not find a way out. While it is easy for me to say God has done this or God has done that for me, I would certainly say that I'd rather let this be a joyous celebration of life: whether you believe in a creator or not.
I don't know what really motivated me to build a bird sanctuary in our backyard. At one point in time many, many years ago, I was so fed up with the round-the-clock-singing of mockingbirds (easily cured by using a small fan as white noise) on the telephone wire just outside our bedroom, that I seriously considered shooting a few of them just to get the message across about how angry I was – I could not appreciate this much beauty and awe.
Of course, I did not do that, and while we still have a handful of these warblers in the backyard, most have moved on to other places. They are not friendly birds -- they do not play well with others. This is truly unfortunate because their song is as good as any country western music I have heard, as good as anything The Rolling Stones or The Who have produced -- and I will go to my grave defending those two bands as some of the best rock'n'roll that our planet has ever seen -- or will ever see.
I may have seen sad times in my life for brief periods but have never been truly depressed. Even before my conversion to Catholicism, I seemed to have such innate strength that helped me get past the really hard times in life. Truly, what moved me forward through the ominously dark days has been the true love of my most beautiful wife.
She deserves a book, not a blog post, to list all the times I got a wop upside the head to steer me beyond the treacherous chapters in my life that I willingly crawled into.
I have been foolish. I have been thoughtless. I have been ignorant and stupid. But I have never been depressed.
This bird sanctuary does not permit a dark thought, even counting the two times so far that our local hawk has dined on a careless bird that didn’t or couldn’t get out of the way of his talons in time. I grieve when I see the feathers on the ground, but in the end I know that the hawk must eat also.
I do not look at a hamburger and mourn the cow that gave up his life for me – but I do respect the sacrifice, and I know there are far hungrier people on the planet than me -- so I try to be reverent as the plate is placed before me; I try to acknowledge that harmony in life comes at a cost. If you hike the trails, be mindful that if carnivores abound in the area, you are little more than an ample supply of protein to them. We are not at the top of the food chain, no matter how good our aim is.
To me, the sanctuary is my safe haven. My life took a left turn a while back, but I have continued to move forward. It is not a fight, a struggle, or a distraction. It is simply my way of finding meaning during hard times that I have little control over.
I have spoken elsewhere of the Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard. His view of existentialism definitely but a dent in my brain matter back at the university. About 3 weeks ago I was standing on the edge of the abyss, staring in, wondering what might be next – was I destined to fall in? Having just survived the worst surgery of my life, or after many extended discussions with my beautiful wife: the worst surgery that anyone could possibly imagine in their lifetime, I thought for sure that the only direction I could head at this point was up. Wrong again.
My body was mysteriously (not really – I was able to connect the dots) waging an extended war against my soul, and I truly wasn't sure who was winning. It didn't come to that point where giving up was an option -- having just reached a line in the sand that I was unsure if it should be crossed or not. I hunkered down pretty low for a couple of weeks. Even though my photography was going gangbusters and was producing some of the best work of my life, I was paying for it dearly because of the strain on my hands and everything else that was attached to them.
Let me digress for a moment and tell you about the birds. I am not an ornithologist or even a semiprofessional bird watcher, I am just very happy to be around these creatures, and for everything that I can see, they are happy to be around me. It is mostly doves and sparrows, and I am especially close to the sparrows.
The doves have proven to be quite skittish -- I have found no way to successfully communicate my love for them to them. Some will tolerate me up to a point, but most view me with a caustic eye and scatter immediately upon my presence.
The sparrows on the other hand, are as nurturing and compassionate as any household pet. I can get within 4 feet of the ones that know me intimately, and I have had some hop closer on occasion. Most of them will pose for portraits when they see me with my camera. This is both amusing and heartwarming at the same time. If you take a look at my recent work, especially the section “Birds in the Backyard” on my website (http://GaryGruberPhotography.com), you will see what I mean.
Around 3:30 PM in the afternoon I prepare their seed and venture into the backyard to lay it down. To say they are excited to see me and the food I bring them would be an understatement of biblical proportions. They are ecstatic. They do races, they do cartwheels, they do aerial somersaults, they jump from the wall to the ground and back up to the wall again in the blink of an eye. As I work my way around the first bush where I lay the seed, there will be at least 2-3 dozen on the wall, maybe 8 to 12 inches apart staring intently at me. I have tried to carry a camera and take pictures during this sweet time, but it is awkward to try to hold the camera around my neck and two large cups in my hands. I simply keep these images in my heart.
For two weeks or so, I was severely depressed -- this was my only joy -- this was the only part of the day where my spirits lifted, albeit for a very short time.
Another short but important digression. The other group of birds that frequent the backyard are hummingbirds. Over the months they have grown to know me to the point that when they see or hear me they will fly directly in front of my face, no more than 8 or 10 inches from me, hover there for several seconds to say hello, and then race away. I like to joke that I use the hummingbirds to set up portrait sessions with other skittish birds that don't know me as well. I tell people that I ask the hummingbirds to talk to some of these unusual creatures, tell them my intentions and ask if they would sit for a portrait.
The almost scary thing is that on each occasion that I had a talk with a hummingbird about a particular unusual species that I wanted to photograph, that bird would appear in the backyard the next day and sit patiently as I got as close as I possibly could to take photographs. I can't call this a coincidence because it is happening too often. I don't know how to explain it, and I'm not sure I want to know why it is occurring. I'm trying to be smaller than the sparrows. I really don't need anything to inflate my ego or give me any hint that something unusual is happening.
But the event that catapulted me out of my temporary miserable state, which appears to me to be so rare and funny at the same time, has created a sort of condition that makes it difficult for me to maintain composure when I think about it, was a battle of the birds for my attention.
I was standing in awe at one of my sparrow buddies -- I have found that it is easy to tell them apart by memorizing the shape of the top of their heads. Well, this sparrow was sitting there on the wall staring at me and I was staring back at him. We were pretty much having a conversation with our eyes, since no words passed between either of us. Then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, the hummingbird headbutts the sparrow directly into his stomach and pushes him off the wall, so he can take his place and spend some time with me.
The sparrow was a bit perturbed but flew onto a branch in the bush to calm himself down. Speechless, I just stared at the hummingbird and cracked up laughing. I have seen these birds playing games, running laps, doing somersaults in unison, and generally acting like they never planned on growing up. This incident completely diffused my depression, which has been wiped off my mental map since then. I don't think it's possible to reflect on this event and have even a wisp of sadness in your heart. Profusely I thank God for what he has created. It is hard to find words to explain or understand something like this, but I believe that is the point.
The whole notion of faith is based upon the idea that there are events and phenomena that we cannot understand, that we will not understand in this lifetime. God does this to humble us, to make us like the sparrow. I’m definitely on my way, and will make room for you if care to hike the path with me.
Comentários