The Song of the Morning Bird
My bedroom faces East.
I chose this room partially because I wanted to wake up to the warm yellow glow of the morning sun in my room.
And partially because it was supposed to be my shistah's room. (Evil laughter)
Today I woke up at around 6 am.
The first thing I do every morning is to move back the curtains and take a moment to look at the sky.
Today as I was doing it I heard a choir of songbirds.
I don't know when the last time was that I listened to so many birds chirping in salute to the first rays of the sun.
I mean, I hear them everyday.
But I never truly listen to them.
I'm so often caught up in the frenzy of everyday tasks that I often forget to stop and listen.
Listen to the songs all around me.
Listen to the breathing.
Listen to the soft patter on rain on the shingles.
That's a sad way to live, I think.
All of us have one life. And we are so busy that we forget to live it.
The songbirds will sing for all eternity as they have since the very beginning.
People will continue to ignore them.
I will continue to ignore them.
Yet somehow when I look back upon the twenty years of my life all I can think of now are the instances I stopped to listen to the songbirds.