"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee."

Walking the Talk

“…And yet there was one there eloquent enough, all this time,

and not quietly but in a rhapsody of reply, though with

an absence of reason, of querulous pestering.  The mockingbird

was making of himself

an orchestra, a choir, a dozen flutes,

a tambourine, an outpost of perfect and exact observation,

all afternoon rapping and whistling

on the athlete’s lung-ful of leafy air…”

                                                            Mary Oliver

                                                            From “Mockingbird”

            My grandparents lived in Jefferson City, Tennessee, in a small cottage just off the campus of Carson Newman College.  Every summer my father would drive us---Mother, Jerrie, Missy and me---there and leave us for two weeks.  Mother and Mama would sew our clothes for school and can or freeze the vegetables from Mama’s prolific garden.  Sometimes they cut the colorful fabrics for quilts Mama made.  The two weeks were idyllic, and one thing that made them so was the fact that I slept on a roll-away bed in Mama’s and Papa’s bedroom.  Since there was no such thing as air conditioning in those days, we slept with the windows open.  About four o’clock every morning, long before day-light, I would be awakened by a mockingbird perched in the mimosa tree just outside, singing his heart out.  He had such an amazing repertoire of sounds and rhythms that I never resented his intrusion into my sleep.  I lay there in the dark listening, trying to count how many different sounds he made.  I still love to hear the mockingbird sing. 

            One of the lessons that other creatures teach me is how to be true to myself.  Mr. Mockingbird is not self-conscious and he’s not concerned with whether his song is better than the next guy.  He just flies up on that tree limb and lets her rip.  He holds back nothing and seems to never tire.  Being true to oneself is not that easy for us humans.  We’re so tempered by society’s norms and expectations that to step outside them threatens our very sense of safety.  My Mother was famous for saying, “What will people think?”  That usually pertained to me---something I was doing that didn’t meet with her approval.  For me, it conjured up the image of streets lined with men and women in business suits and horn-rimmed glasses, with clip-boards and pens making copious notes about my faux pas.  I always wondered who in the world would be watching me, and how bored they must be.

            Being true to oneself means stepping off the cow path, so to speak, and blazing into uncharted territory.  First, you’ve got to know who “oneself” is.  That takes tuning in, paying attention, having some awareness of how you make choices and why.  A couple of good questions to ask oneself are “Why am I doing this?” and “Who am I trying to please.”  Secondly, you’ve got to risk being ostracized by your tony peers, who will mutter to themselves about how totally weird you are.  In the end, you will love the freedom of being authentic and believe it or not, there are other weird people around who will value you for standing in your own truth.  So, fly on up there and let her rip! 

                                                            Thanks be to God,

                                                            Jane