The Osprey Nest

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me.  In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?”

        
--John 14: 1-2

The old osprey nest I had been watching for the past few weeks on my morning walks with Sophie finally had some activity.

Mama (I am assuming) sat high atop the tallest branch of the craggy, barren tree guarding her home while papa swooped low to fetch pine needles, sticks and leaves, depositing them neatly into the nest with agile back claws.

I was happy to see the new tenants taking residence and making the home their own. It’s good to see some normalcy, signs of life as usual, these days. It's also important to create home that feels sacred, nurtures the soul, and invites you to settle in and get comfy. My husband and I had been nesting ourselves of late, having closed on a new home by the shore in January. Our decorating was coming along nicely when Covid-19 rudely interrupted us all. Our sweet new retirement dream home was where we would now shelter in place.

Walking on our now familiar trail, Sophie stopped just ahead of me to survey the area. She has her favorite spots to crouch and pee, some ways off the trail like a proper lady. I like to pause so as not to rush her and, wanting to give her privacy, I glanced away. In the distance I spotted our osprey friend soaring high overhead, this time with a long ribbon-like something or other trailing behind him like a kite tail fluttering in the breeze. It was a strange sight to see and I watched trying to discern what he had picked up and whether it would be a welcome addition to the nest when offered to his beloved.

He swooped close to the nest and then circled back toward me. Just then he surprised me by dropping his precarious cargo right onto the bush next to me. It landed like perfectly placed garland on a Christmas tree. 

I wondered if mother, still perched regally atop her branch, had vetoed her mate’s decorating suggestion or if he had made this last minute decision of his own accord. Either way, my osprey friend had bestowed upon me a sacred gift and I am not one to be ungrateful. 

I retrieved the rejected material and determined it to be construction debris from a nearby house now under construction (no, it wasn't toilet paper!). I had been open to receive just about anything gifted to me from “on high” these last few weeks, when we have seemed so bereft of good news. I was desperate for a sign of any kind. This would do just fine.

A divine order patterns all of creation,

from the timeless ocean to the fleeting dew.

Keep your attention on wisdom,

and do not allow yourself to be distracted.

Watch the patterns of creation.

This will enliven your soul and bring you grace and tranquility. 

-- Excerpts from Proverbs: The Wisdom of Solomon, Chapter 3, translated by Rabbi Rami Shapiro

My thoughts had been darker these past few days as we head into the possible peak of this devastating virus that is spreading exponentially leaving thousands dead and so many others fearing we are next. But this adorable osprey couple, this sweet once threatened species, reminded me that we are resilient, that seasons change and new life does arrive, despite and even sometimes, because of hardship. They showed me that working together we can rebuild, and that there’s plenty to go around, so why not share. 

They also reminded me to be grateful for my practical, hardworking husband who, much like the osprey dad, has a deeply ingrained, inspiring work ethic. His decorating sense, however; how shall we say this delicately, osprey mama? With all due respect, all decorating decisions should plainly be left up to me.

Walking home with Sophie I stopped by the dumpster and with a deep sigh of gratitude, reluctantly deposited the lovely gift. No sense holding onto things so tightly anymore.  

Peace.

Fenwick Island, DE

4/2/20

Connie Bowman is an actress, yoga teacher, host of the podcast Happy Healthy You! and author of Back to Happy and children's picture books about overcoming fear, kindness and acceptance. For more about her visit www.conniebowman.com.

Enjoy Reclaiming Joy on Insight Timer: Reclaiming Joy

A couple of video updates on our couple:

Osprey Update 5/2/20:

We had 50-60 mph winds in the storm the other night and the Osprey nest blew from the tree. Mother still sits on the branch next to where her eggs had been incubating. Dad is in another tree not far from her. I watched for a while and they both left to circle the area and landed back home.
This prayer showed up today:

Prayer for People Facing Great Uncertainty
Adapted from the New Zealand Prayer Book

God of the present moment, God who in Jesus stills the storm and soothes the frantic heart; bring hope and courage to all who wait or work in uncertainty.
Bring hope that you will make us all able to deal with whatever lies ahead.
Bring us courage to endure what cannot be avoided, for your will is health and wholeness; you are our God,
and we need you
now and always. Amen.

Osprey Update 5/5/20: 

What I think may be the final one but one never knows…

I had been feeling sad over the loss of our osprey couple’s nest in the recent wind storm.

After watching them for a few weeks, they seemed to be a solid couple, determined to make a home in the once abandoned nest high up in the twisted old tree by the bay. I observed with great curiosity as they added debris; plastic and paper, twigs and practically anything they could find to put their stamp on their nest. 

My husband and I did the research. Ospreys, once a threatened species due to pesticides and other man-made threats, were now thriving in the Chesapeake Bay after years of measures taken to eliminate unhealthy practices. Both male and female build the nest together. They take residence and lay their eggs, typically two to three, in the Spring in whatever nest is available. The mother is usually larger than the father, perhaps noticeably when she is carrying her soon- to-be offspring. According to our research, they can lay eggs anytime from mid April to late May.

I assumed they had laid their eggs and were happily awaiting the birth of their babies.

It appears I was wrong!

After their nest blew down I watched for a few days as mom and dad seemed to grieve their great loss atop their barren perch. Once I spotted the male circling the tree with twigs in his back talons looking for a place in the tree to drop his building materials. They seemed to want to rebuild in place, only higher up.

After a few days I noticed that the couple had not been around. This morning on a walk by their still empty tree, the tide receded, I crossed the land where I normally would not be able and headed toward the tree. There on the ground beneath it I found what had once been our sweet couple’s mansion in the sky. I knew it was huge but laying in a shambles on the ground I could see it had been enormous. They had collected a myriad of items from colored strips of paper, a piece of a plastic carton and wrappers of all sorts and likely many pounds of twigs once intricately woven together to form their impressive but tenuous structure.

It took me a while to sift through the remains, but I am happy to report that there were no traces of eggs or feathers or anything that would lead me to believe that her babies had been born and were either abducted or killed in the fall. Such good news!

Our couple has moved on. Yesterday I thought I heard their now familiar cry, but I am not sure. I miss them but I certainly wish them well in their new home and pray their family thrives and their babies grow healthy and strong and eventually fly away to fulfill their own destinies. 

And then our couple can retire by the beach and happily enjoy their golden years in the sunshine. #ospreyupdate

The Real Work 

It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed. The impeded stream is the one that sings.

~~Wendall Berry

One Thing

I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had no where else to go. My own wisdom and that of all about me seemed insufficient for that day.     ― Abraham Lincoln

Through the years people have often asked me “How did you do it?”, meaning how did I survive the death of a child. They were looking for the “one thing.” In answering, I try to honor the spirit of the question, which is certainly different for every person. Some are grieving themselves and looking for concrete, practical advice. Some might be asking as they are witnessing the grief of a friend or loved one and sincerely want to help. Some are simply curious. I often feel the weight of the responsibility to answer well for each person. It’s never an easy answer. That’s why I wrote Back to Happy. The book was my humble offering in response to that question.  For me, if I was to pinpoint the “one thing” that was the thread woven through the fabric of my personal healing, I would have to say it was surrender. Surrender was the most difficult, most unlikely, most radically transformational part of my grief journey.

It’s ineffable for sure, difficult to describe with words but I try my best in Back to Happy. Just to clarify what I mean by surrender, I will tell you first what surrender is not. Surrender is not giving up. Surrender is not weakness. Surrender is not permission to check out. 

When something traumatic happens, like a loss (and these recent shootings are deeply communal losses for all of us) we often want to respond with immediate action. Action is one way of avoiding profoundly deep feelings of despair. There are others, but avoiding is not what I want to focus on here. Grief and despair can overwhelm the human system physically, emotionally and energetically. In the aftermath of trauma our minds and spirits are often disconnected from our bodies. Our mind races ahead to make sense of what has happened and wants to come up with solutions. Our body is left feeling untethered, like a helium balloon released to the heavens. Our beautiful immortal spirit, in its wisdom, seeks wholeness and gently nudges the broken parts of us back to unity. You may feel these gentle nudges when coincidences happen or unlikely people show up at just the right time or a certain song plays on the radio. 

What can we do with a racing mind and a deeply traumatized body? We can choose to surrender to the nudges. Surrender brought me to my knees, literally. I wrote about this in Back to Happy.  One day after months of pushing and doing and trying my best to keep busy with things that would seemingly help me move through the despair, somewhere from deep within came the thought that I could choose to surrender. That day in my living room, all by myself, I prayed. I prayed hard. I surrendered. And I asked for help. 

That was my turning point. Physically and mentally I surrendered to the awareness that I needed a higher power (for me that’s God). I surrendered to accepting help from other people. We are not meant to endure despair alone. Always, always reach out. But first, surrender. Love, God, the universe, whatever you choose to call her, is always there waiting for us. We have to make the first move. 

Over time surrender led me to people and places and books and churches and counselors and yoga classes. I began to heal and rediscover joy. To use the words "surrender saved me" is an understatement. Surrender changed everything for the better and for good. As I practice surrender daily it continues to teach me and never fails to amaze and delight. 

So if you are wondering for yourself or another what is the “one thing” that you could do or suggest to another to move with grace through the devastating, complicated, life changing grief that inevitably we will all face, try surrender. Surrender with your mind and your body and ask for whatever help you need. You will receive. And then, never stop asking. 

May you find the courage to surrender to the love that is waiting silently and patiently for you. May you know the peace that comes with this surrender. May you grow closer, day by day, to this miraculous, delightful mystery. In time, may you come to know the gift of sharing it with others.

Connie Bowman is an actress, yoga teacher, host of the podcast Happy Healthy You! and author of Back to Happy and children's picture books about overcoming fear, kindness and acceptance. For more about her visit www.conniebowman.com.