I never wanted to be a Hummingbird

I've always been enchanted by swallows. Have you ever watched them? I remember the first time they really stole my heart. I was sitting in a large grassy park, when I suddenly realized there was a host of little birds swooping and diving in circles around me. One even came so close in his aerial maneuvers that he almost went rig

ht through me- peeling off at the last second, seemingly unconcerned with my obstructing form. I was just another fun element of his game- a prop in his obstacle course.

They were having so. much. fun.

And their energy seemed endless. You rarely see swallows perching. Diving and weaving, diving and weaving. In stark contrast there was a group of little black birds on the grass, heads in the dirt, pecking for their food. When I found out the fun-loving swallows were catching their food mid-flight, I was so jealous. It was like a metaphor for how I wanted my life to be: I wanted to be in constant flow- doing what I loved (acting)- and not have to stop everything, descend, and peck at the ground to fuel myself (pay bills by work I didn't enjoy).

My dream was to eventually live as a swallow- in constant fun and flow!

Then came 7 years of dental trauma, nerve pain flares, and medical debt.

Rather than the endless energetic flow and provision I'd hoped for, I have been in a constant state of stop-and-go. Pain and debt comes, and I'm either confined to my room, or out getting scraps of work in brand promotion, background acting, and cleaning jobs.

In between these stand-stills, there were also bursts of color and life: I wrote my first fantasy novel, got extended time with my family back home, and wrote and acted in my own short film. When I look back on the last 7 years it is anything but a constant, joyous flow...but if I'm honest, it is also anything but a black hole of pain. Bursts of fun and productivity did happen amidst the pain.

As I was sitting in the courtyard of my apartment the other day, I heard the familiar whirrr and chirp of another bird. The hummingbird zoomed by, up and down, forwards and backwards, then suddenly, decided it was done and sat stalk-still on a branch. And it sat there, a long while, before zooming off again.

I never wanted to be a hummingbird.

They are small, obscure, and easy to miss. I've never liked blending in. I want to stand out- be out in the open, swooping and diving with skill and precision for all to see. I must admit, I want to be...significant, in anything I do. So, I never wanted to be a hummingbird.

But as I watched this little guy (that I affectionately dubbed Sir Humphrey) buzz around the pool area that day, I realized, that's exactly what I am. At least for now. And as I accepted it, a warm relief washed over me. I don't have to be the swallow right now. Maybe someday. But if I truly let myself sink in to being a hummingbird, then maybe I can find joy even in this season.

After all...hummingbirds may be insignificant in size and constant visibility, but they can move in ways - and at speeds - that other birds only dream of.

They don't only move - only think - in terms of forward, left, or right. They are limitless. And while pain and debt has seemed to bring me to more stand-stills than I've liked, these still moments have enabled me to see and think in ways that are counter-intuitive, counter-cultural, even counter-human.

The pace and process of the world may seem more even, more consistent. But just because the hummingbird doesn't function like the other birds, doesn't make him dysfunctional.

Functioning differently doesn't make me...dysfunctional.

I don't move like others move.

I am a multi-dimensional being.

And though I wish I was capable of doing more in this dimension, in this body, I don't want to miss the beauty, and significance, of living a hummingbird life.

To all my fellow hummingbirds...settle in. I don't mean give up, or settle. Keep reaching for healing and wholeness. But also...embrace the beauty of the stand-still, just as much as the bursts of energy and productivity when the pain lifts.

Maybe your life right now isn't flow, but a series of sporadic starts and stops. That's okay.

You're okay.

The world that is building inside you is limitless, and others will one day marvel at the depth inside your fragile frame- at your range of motion and perspective that defies all earthly bounds.

You are a fierce, prismatic display- and your rarity makes you all the more impactful when you do...burst into view.