If Birds Could Talk

On their way to a new home, it was a day of many firsts for the three parakeets, Birdoo, Skylar, and Fly. They closed their little eyes as I left the pet store. I could not tell if they were tired from sitting on a perch with nothing to look at but a dull grey wall or thankful for seeing sunlight for the first time in their lives. There wasn’t even a window for them to look out and see what birds do—painting the skies with their silhouettes. As the sharp glint of sunlight made me squint, I lowered the cage to the pavement to adjust shopping bags full of bird seed, bird toys, and a water dish. The parakeets shuddered and wrapped their wings tightly around their bodies as a sudden gust of wind unsettled their feathers. They huddled close to each other, unsure of what to make of their new freedom. It was my first time caring for birds. As my eyes left the white metal cage and looked up at the vast blue sky above, I fought the urge to open the cage door and let them fly away. Bred in captivity, I suspected they had never exercised their wings or left the confines of their cage.

Once home, in their spacious new cage with perches on three levels and festooned with bird toys, Fly was the first to explore his new digs. He made whirring noises as he shuffled back and forth while Birdoo and Skylar looked at the grassy front yard with several oak trees. These drooping hundred-year oaks, home to doves, wrens, and other bird species, turned into singing trees each morning as chirps, soft coo-oos, and whistled notes wafted in through the windows.

I wondered if Birdoo, Skylar, and Fly wanted to disappear into the leafy canopies outside. But what if they did not know how to fly or broke their tender beaks as they wrestled with unfamiliar food? I had forgotten to ask the bird expert at the store. 

We built an outdoor aviary to ease the three birds back into nature. The birds refused the invitation to leave their cell and enter the aviary, where they could strengthen and test their wings. A short flexible duct tunneled through the mesh window connected their indoor cage with the aviary on the porch. Nothing could tempt them outside—copious amounts of bird seed, toys, the calm breeze, or the scent of the jasmine tree shading the aviary. Spring gave way to summer, and by the time the leaves on the oak trees began to fall in anticipation of the frigid northern winds, I was convinced that the three birds preferred an indoor life. It’s been five winters since Birdoo, Skylar, and Fly arrived home. I am thankful to them for imparting wisdom in the form of three questions that arose in my mind after I picked them up at the pet store. 

Do they know they are in a cage?

Why do they refuse the door to freedom?

Are they afraid of the unknown?

The cage

When negative thoughts and emotions arise, creating fear and self-doubt, they remind me of the first question, Do the three birds know they are in a cage? When we give into fear, we cage our freedom, and with self-doubt, we confine our abilities. Often, we fail to recognize the limiting power of fear and self-doubt. The way out is to realize that these thoughts are cages we build around ourselves. That recognition is the first step to realizing that we hold the key that unlocks our inner freedom.

The door to freedom

When I forget that I have the choice of whether or not to entertain a thought or an idea, it reminds me of the second question, Why did the three birds refuse the door to freedom? When thoughts pollute our mental atmosphere with pain and suffering, hard-earned happiness disappears in a flash. We close the door to inner freedom and joy by indulging thoughts that spark a fire of negativity. We need not give such thoughts our time, attention, and precious mental bandwidth. These thoughts, transient as the clouds, may not even be our own. The only form of permanency clouds have is when we photograph the sky and frame it on the wall. Similarly, thoughts become permanent once we identify with them and call them our own.

A simple mantra—Watch. Don’t react. Repeat—dissolves thoughts and reveals their impermanent nature. This mantra ensures that what doesn’t belong in the precious private space of the mind will disappear for good. It works like the winds that blow away clouds hiding the infinite vibrant blue hovering above.

Fear of the unknown

When I find myself weighing whether to leave the security and comforts of the known and trade it for the uncertainty and potential hardships that may come with embracing the unknown, I’m reminded of the final question, Are the three birds afraid of the unknown? 

I find routines and habits comforting. There is little need to think and experiment when something is working well. However, by holding onto what is familiar, our innate potential atrophies. Only when we explore will we discover our hidden talents. Perhaps the next big idea that changes the world lurks behind a habit or routine limiting your mind’s immense potential. 

Walking out of the cage door to inner freedom and overcoming the fear of the unknown are the lessons I carried out of a pet store. Lessons the three most beautiful parakeets I’ve ever known taught me.