Bird Brain

It started Friday morning about 7:30. I heard a tap, tap, tapping on the window of the front room. My drug addled brain (another story), trying to become cognizant of reality vs. dreamland began to go through the reasonable scenarios: if Larry was locked out, he would know where the key was hidden, if Mike was locked out, he would ring the bell, Erin was somewhere in Pennsylvania. So who was knocking? It continued incessantly so I got up to have a look. A sparrow was tapping repeatedly at the living room window. Occasionally he would attempt the door to the back screened in porch, then back to the window. Annoying. Amusing. For the first day.
He was back at it on Saturday.
Again on Sunday. In fact, while at church, L and I noticed a sparrow hanging around the window behind the pulpit. I had momentary Tippi Hedren de ja vu and made a note to self to not stop for gas on the way home. (Perhaps too obscure-did I mention the drugs?)
He/she started up at 6:05 Monday morning. You’d think the thing would get a clue. I guess this is why the term “bird brain” exists: one not able to figure out the obvious. I realize that sparrows have a brain about the size of a pea so we can’t expect much more brain function beyond ’find worm, eat worm, build nest, hawk! run’. Maybe the really smart ones have one about the size of a peanut M&M and are the leaders of the Kingdom of Sparrowland. That said, our visitor must have one about the size of a gnat’s dimple.
This is day 5 of The Redundant Adventures of Bird Brain. It’s getting a little more than annoying. It’s not just the morning wake-up tapping, a significant dotting of bird crap is now decorating my deck directly below the window and screen door. Larry and I cannot figure out what his/her purpose is. We occasionally see a bit of nesting material in it’s beak. Sometimes it just perches itself on the window ledge and stares into the glass. I cannot figure out if it sees a really hot, potential mate in the reflection of the glass, is pondering another way in, or just wondering why it has such a pounding headache all the time. Perhaps just looking for the proverbial ‘greener grass’ on the other side. What ever the reason, this stubborn little creature is determined to get what it cannot have, and should not want. You are free, silly bird. Find yourself a damn tree! Then again the up side may be that this creature will never get it’s nest built and be able to reproduce, God’s way of cleansing the gene pool, one idiot at a time.
So when I ramble on about such things, there usually a point somewhere around the bend.
Greener grass. Seems to me like the recent theme in too many conversations I’ve had has been greener grass; a better-place to live, job, spouse, body, location, and on and on and on. And when you start down that road, what you have becomes crappier and crappier, in your own head at least-justifying the greener grass search- as you become more and more discontent convincing yourself that the grass you see in the distance is verdant and lush and well, perfect. Of course, when you get ‘there’ (move, change jobs-partners-dress size) you see all the crab grass, thistles and bare spots that you were sure did not exist in the emerald green Nirvana you saw from the great beyond, so you look back across the fence you just crossed or on to the next one and sure enough it’s much greener somewhere else. Thus the  pattern, habit, hobby, endless search, whatever continues. Rinse, lather, repeat.
I am not saying that change is never justified or necessary. But too often, discontentment is the root problem and all the changing in the world will not fix what’s really bugging you. Because when you get ‘it’ or ‘there’ the real problem, your discontent soul, came with you. So nothing has really changed-you are momentarily happy with the new whatever but before long, your true self rises to the surface and you just start another round of head banging and crap dropping looking for the next fix. Plus there is that pesky little side note that when you are concentrating on what you do not have, you have no room to be grateful for what you do have.
If I could paraphrase the old Serenity Prayer, it would be something like this:
God grant me the serenity to be grateful where you’ve placed me,
the courage to go when you move me,
and the contentment to wait for Your timing.
Or Plan B: Beat my head against an immovable object convinced there is something better on the other side.