Last night was one of those nights when my eyes popped open at 3:30am and I lay there, wide awake as my brain tortured me with all the little things, the things done and left undone. As my brain spun, my body tossed and turned and it seemed like all the problems of the universe were concentrated in a cloud above my head, not unlike the cloud over Dana's apartment building in the original Ghostbusters.
I mean, if you were up at 3:30am, you'd be dramatic too, just saying.
Fast forward to many large cups of coffee later and I'm sitting in the kitchen. I'm looking out the window into the overcast, wintry brown yard, trying to capture all of those rampant thoughts into a reasonable to-do list for the day when I see a tiny bird fly into the window with a tiny thud.
He bounces back, shakes his little bird head, and flies off.
Maybe it's the lack of sleep or the abundance of coffee, but I see a lesson there. The window is those thoughts in my head. I bounced against them, hard, in the early hours of the morning. I can either flop on the ground or shake it off and fly away. Lessons come where you choose to find them.
I'm going to be the bird.