Snow Geese and Self Appreciation
I’m sorry, I just don’t think you’re properly amazed by migratory birds. I don’t think any of us are.
In preparation for their spring and fall trips, migratory birds double in weight, becoming as fatty as possible to fuel them for the long flight. Making room for all this newfound fat involves reabsorbing their own organ tissue to literally rearrange their insides. Livers and kidneys will shrink. Hearts and chest muscles will expand.
Once their migration starts, birds will often be flying for days over open ocean, with no food, water, or place to land. To make this possible, birds like the Bar Tailed Godwit (who fly for ELEVEN days straight, crossing 8,000 miles of open ocean in one go) will take “bird naps” while they fly, one half of their brain falling asleep for a few seconds while the other half stays awake to continue flapping those wings, and then alternating. Each hemisphere blinking on and off, over and over, as they fly day and night to keep our ecosystems functioning and our world growing. If their built up fat reserves run dry, their body is able to eat its own muscles and extract water from its own organs to keep on going.
In light of all that, I hope you can understand why, a few days ago, I was standing in Sherman, Texas, face to face with a flock of Snow Geese (who breed on the arctic tundra), feeling like I was in the presence of a deity. Like, why am I just sitting here taking pictures? Surely I should be kneeling at their little webbed feet, honoring their strength? Why are we so casual with this accomplishment?
As we walked through the woods I spotted Golden Crowned Kinglets and Harris’s Sparrows, birds that could easily fit into the palm of one hand, that had somehow powered themselves all the way from Canada and Central America. Braving storms and tailwinds on the tiniest wings, to land right next to me.
The sheer resilience that it takes to be a bird is staggering. It always has been, even in centuries where the only challenges they faced were the ones presented to them by nature and instinct. Even before we started hacking away at their habitats and building skyscrapers that melt inconspicuously into the night, just asking to be crashed into.
The existence of birds, the appearance of the migratory species every spring and winter, has always been a marvel. Always been precious. These days though? These days every bird feels like a miracle.
I feel this for us, too. The world has never been the easiest place to survive, but at least for much of its existence the danger we’ve been fielding and the problems we’ve been solving have been ones we were designed to face and overcome. But with the relatively (in proportion to the age of the earth) recent inventions of colonialism and capitalism, we are now tasked with obstacles nothing in our biology knows how to prepare for or defend against.
For a long time, a favorite affirmation of mine when I’m feeling overwhelmed has been “this is a feeling my body was built to hold.” When there’s stress or grief I feel scared to go into, remembering that I have a nervous system that was made to process these feelings, designed with a capacity to go into hard shit without crumbling, makes a difference.
I still love that reminder in my personal relationships and stressors, but lately, I’ve been really feeling the edges of its usefulness. Was my body really built to hold the pain of watching a genocide live streamed to my phone? Was my body built to hold the knowledge that every word I type on this computer was made possible by child slaves in the Congo? These things are crucial to face and carry, but nothing about this feels natural. All too often, it doesn’t even feel doable.
And yet I am still waking up early to trek out to the snow geese, I am still hunting for sunshine and questing for hope. And yet you are still finding enough curiosity within you to open a newsletter, to go looking for the words you need.
Our sunshine hunts and hope and curiosity have always been a marvel. Always been precious. These days though? These days we feel like a miracle.
As much as I don’t think you’re properly amazed by migratory birds, I also think you’re probably not properly amazed by yourself. The things you have faced and continue to face every day are unbelievable. We should all stand in awe of ourselves, feel like maybe we are in the presence of a deity every time we take a breath.
This week, every time I got mad at myself for some task I felt like I should have done more of that day, some small voice within me rose up to remind me how much energy I am devoting to staying open and feeling right now, making sure I acknowledged all the hard questions I’m working to answer and what it requires to do that work.
And when I went to the website of the wildlife refuge I was visiting to see the geese, there was big bold text on the home page telling everyone that the snow geese had gone through a lot to get here and were resting before their next big journey and would everyone please let them do that?
I think some of us might need to plaster a similar message to the home pages of our brains. There is big work that has needed to be done and still needs to be done, there will need to be big grace extended our way, big space offered, to facilitate that.
No matter how much of a failure you feel like right now, please know I’d like to kneel at your feet and honor your strength, too.
If the birds can keep singing, maybe so can we.
I’ve been having so much fun doing single coaching sessions with creatives and freelancers lately! If you happen to be an artist pretending to be an entrepreneur or a 9-to-5 babe who can’t stop dreaming of something new, I just wanted to let you know that I have some availability in February.
It might be in the backseat of what I’m doing these days, but I’ve been working with entrepreneurs since 2014, been a full-time freelancer since 2017, and been coaching creatives and freelancers since 2018. As a creative with deeply held values, a neurodivergent brain, and a history of chronic illness, I know intimately how tough it can be to try to balance all the sides of yourself that want to be expressed and protected through your work. How often the “best business practices” don’t seem built for bodies and hearts like yours. I love to get in there with you and help find a path forward that feels not only actionable and clear, but big enough to hold you in your fullness.
People who find their way into these single sessions are usually feeling one of three ways:
“I know I’m ready to do SOMETHING, and I have a million ideas, but no clue where to start.”
“I know what I have to do next, but for whatever reason I feel completely unprepared to do it.”
“I’ve been in this work for a while and things are okay, but I don’t feel the joy and passion I used to.”
For anyone in any of those spots, I have a tried and true ability to see straight through the noise to the crystal clear next steps and perspectives that feel resonant and accessible for exactly where you’re at. You might be surprised by how efficient a single hour can be in gently releasing resistance and restoring your excitement for your work!
Single sessions are priced on a sliding scale and have limited availability, if you feel like one might be what you’ve been looking for, I’d love to talk to you! You can click here to see details and get on my schedule, and feel free to reply to this email with any questions and I’ll get back to you. You can also click here to read testimonials from past clients.
(These sessions are not therapy and not suitable support for those in crisis.)
Things I’ve been leaning into lately
Continuing to bear witness to the ongoing genocide in Gaza. Continuing to contact reps and let them know I’m still paying attention. Continuing to prioritize crying a lot.
Carrying a 2009 Camcorder around everywhere and filming myself like I am my own proud dad at a talent show. The nostalgic grain makes me want to record and romanticize everything, and the inconvenience of having to plug the camera into my laptop and convert every single video (one at a time) from an ancient, obsolete file format into something usable on my iPhone, slows me down in a way that adds so much intention and love to my creation process!
The Last Dinner Party’s album Prelude to Ecstasy. Kate Bush-esque angsty indie rock with a baroque flare. Love an album that kicks off with an orchestral overture.
Re-starting The Artist’s Way and actually committing to get further than one week in this time! I’ll be documenting every step (of at least the first four weeks) in February’s Creativity Month series on the podcast.
Laura Girard’s YouTube workouts!! I’ve been prioritizing accessible daily movement lately and have actually logged a workout on 27 of the last 28 days according to my Apple Watch, which is a MASSIV shift in consistency from last year. A big part of that has been Laura’s 7-15 minute bodyweight workouts which feel so inviting and non-judgmental and also NOT BORING which I feel is a big one for any workout I’m doing in a small space.
Carrying cough drops at the protests. Those chants really strain your vocal cords after awhile, and having a little Ricola in my back pocket has been the wind beneath my wings.
I loved every word of this - thank you! We are not in awe enough at all.
“And yet you are still finding enough curiosity within you to open a newsletter, to go looking for the words you need.” - this one hit all the right spots 💗