Metaphorically speaking

There is a red-headed woodpecker dancing on my balcony as I write this. He skitters across the ledge, guarding our somewhat hidden bird feeder in an effort to protect his seed from a smaller sparrow. The woodpecker's chest is puffed out, his squawking is audibly agitated, and his black eyes dart from side to side. The solo sparrow stands his ground, and the woodpecker eventually dives away from our balcony. Moments later, six or seven additional sparrows join their compatriot at the feeder.

Undoubtedly there is a metaphor here; my brain quickly scans the options for what the birds' encounters could signify for me. Perhaps the woodpecker represents my current challenges - wedding planning, dissertating, job searching, and daily difficulties. I am the sparrow, the bird food my final goals. Or, maybe I am the combative woodpecker, unwilling to share my treasures with others, fiercely protecting my experiences, or ultimately running away from the fight for sustenance. Might I be the seed? Constantly I feel pecked at and fought over by competing interests. The birds are my distractions or enemies.

Most likely, though, the scene on my balcony is only what it is. And, I must accept it as that - a different snapshot of life. And, I ought be grateful I am able to observe the natural behaviors of these lovely birds from the warmth and comfort of my apartment, overlooking the beautiful greenery of Rock Creek Park, in our nation's capital.

The metaphors, analogies, and stories I tell myself about my surroundings make my life a bit more interesting, allowing the world to revolve around me. But, they also dramatize and distort reality. Instead of stopping to observe and appreciate the scenery, I relate it to my own trials and tribulations. I look for the "meaning" in the moment.

In fact, I try to create meaning and devise lessons from nearly everything. In some ways, the infinite lessons keep me striving for more... better... happiness... perfection. And the metaphorical stories with their perpetual lessons prevent me from soaking in the now, accepting what my life is, being grateful for the minutes and hours of today.

What if my dissertation is only a very long paper, and not the equivalent of running a marathon? What if my wedding is one happy celebration among many I will experience, rather than THE MOST IMPORTANT party I'll ever plan? What if a car accident was just a misjudgment of distance between my bumper and the one in front of me, and not some larger indication of how distorted my perception of life is right now? What if seeking my next job is not a path to the rest of my career or an opportunity of a lifetime... and, alternately, it's a necessary step toward paying bills, enjoying life, and staying in DC?

Maybe the woodpecker - with his vibrant crimson skull, chirping voice, and striped feathers - is not a sign of my erroneous ways, endless possibilities, or distracting challenges.

Instead, he's just a woodpecker. And, I'm just glad to have him as a companion on this rainy day.