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I chose parenting later in life.

My first-born is a pidgeon. He resides on my balcony.

He actually has 2 ‘real’ parents, but they don’t spend much time here anymore. Perhaps – given that the tedious days of egg-sitting are over – they’ve gone south to Vegas to party and forget for a while.

This little bird sits patiently, day-after-day; not asking for much (the occasional worm) and not making much noise. Forget the diapers, yesterday’s poop becomes tomorrow’s futon with feathers.

To watch this progression, both the parents’ dedicated shift-work in constant egg-sitting for, and Baby Pidgeon’s patient waiting, day after day for a little food and Pidgeon Parental Quality Time is inspiring to say the least.

It speaks of Nature’s Inborn Plan of Things. The dedication, the relentless caring for a New Life. We try to kick-start this with uplifting moral sermons and new-age kindness-managment books, but – hey! – in Pidgeon-land, these are part of the package.

It’s organic!

It speaks of Life Itself, caring for Life Itself. Are we not a part of this? This inborn Rhythm of Things, this majestic and detached upholding of the deepest and most innate principles of creation. We see this in the symbiotic majesty of dying trees becoming works of art and silent forests arranging themselves to become literal cathedrals of the soul – havens where we creatures can feel and breathe the majesty of the divine, without so much as lifting a finger or clicking a mouse-button.

So, given that Nature is abundant in its relentless support of Life Itself, where has mankind strayed from Nature? And – more importantly – where is our path back to Nature? Not to living in trees or eating wild ants or sporting leopard-skin overalls… but where can the rhythm, the voice, the drummer – of Nature truly be known and felt?

In the Mighty Jungle? In the vast, turbulent and unpredictable oceans? In the cults and cliques and proud marching parades of mankind’s institutions? In a sound-deprived, acoustically-insulated deprivation tank, where all we can hear is the clamoring of our incessant overburdened thought processes?

Naw.

This is such a no-brainer. This is so NOT Rocket Science.

The path back to our true nature, is the path back to our hearts. How far away is that? Well, how far are YOU from YOUR HEART? That’s how far it is. For many, that’s a Very Long Way. A formidable journey: a journey where the Mind & Intellect will never find its way home; it will only succeed in getting hoplessly lost in a tangled web of ego, explanations, logic and boring internal dialogue. Historic, genetic, scientific, family-identity issues. Makes the World Wide Web look like Dick & Jane.

For those who have a Heart, a thirst – this path is profoundly simple, amazingly available, and reassuringly close by.

Well, that’s all for now folks. Good luck in watering the roots of your own Beautiful Tree. Ain’t nobody else gonna do it for ya.

Me? I gotta check on my Pidgeon Baby. My only concern is that Flying Lessons are impending, and since I live in a High-Rise, it’s a long way down. So, I invite all to send their Pidgeon Prayers to Perky, my little adopted fledgling, that he pass his upcoming Road Test with Flying Colors.

Dive in Perky, the Sailing’s good.

If we got wings, may as well use ’em …