Liberating Wings

Presidents and Parrots

 

 

I recently read this poem by Mary Oliver:

 

Percy Two

 I have a little dog who likes to nap with me.

He climbs on my body and puts his face in my neck.
He is sweeter than soap.
He is more wonderful than a diamond necklace,
which can't even bark.
I would like to take him to Kashmir and the Ukraine,
and Jerusalem and Palestine and Iraq and Darfur,
that the sorrowing thousands might see his laughing mouth.
I would like to take him to Washington, right into
the oval office
where Donald Rumsfeld would crawl out of the president's 
armpit
and kneel down on the carpet, and romp like a boy.

 For once, for a moment, a rational man.

 

 

Now that's an idea worth sharing - what might we bright to the influential and the sorrowing multitudes so that they may gain reason, or perhaps better said, let go of reason and let love and joy in?  I think that I would bring a parrot to the oval office.

 

I wouldn't be the first.

 

Many presidents have owned parrots.

 

Lyndon B. Johnson had lovebirds, John Kennedy had parakeets, Theodore Roosevelt and James Madison had macaws, William McKinley had  Yellow-headed Mexican Parrot that could whistle "Yankee Doodle" and Andrew Jackson had some unknown species of parrot named Pol. His pet parrot was removed from his funeral because the bird was swearing.

   

 

The parrot that I would offer to our head of state would be bettered mannered than this, but hopefully not too politically correct.  In this prestigious office the bird would bow down his head, raising his neck feathers in which President Obama would promptly bury his nose and inhale sacredness.   Then he would reaffirm his faith that there is nothing sweeter than life itself, or more beautiful than this bird, himself, others, republicans, democrats, Muslims, or talk show hosts.  He might secretly see himself as President Parrot, no more, and no less.  Then he would wing himself to Afghanistan, Yemen, Bolivia, Argentina, or Venezuela  and offer liberation by now bowing down his head and kneeling on the carpet to the beauty within and the beauty without.  Such is my hope here in the dog days of August.

President Hugo Chavez of Venezueala 

Welfare from A Bird's Eye View

Nancy Burke Loving a Hundred Year Old Yellow-crowned Amazon Parrot

  

I have recently returned from several weeks of being among bird people, attending a bird veterinarian conference (the Association of Avian Veterinarians), a bird owner/breeder conference (American Federation of Aviculture), an avian veterinary clinics (Bird and Exotic Pet Wellness Center) and pet bird owners of flocks. There was a time when I could not have spent enjoyable time amongst them, for I thought they were "wrong" for keeping wild birds in captivity.  Through the deep work of Nonviolent Communication that I translate into Compassionate Conservation, I am learning to see that these people are not wrong, nor am I.   Life flows through them just as it does me, striving to bring appreciation, beauty, companionship, and nurturing to their lives.  They love birds, I love birds. They care for birds, I care for birds.  They choose to do so by keeping birds in cages in their homes, or treating captive birds in their clinics, while I choose to work with wild parrots in Latin America.  Our strategies differ, but we are interdependent with one another, not separate, but worthy and lovely.  We share life.  Because I appreciate our common humanity and might empathize with them, I can be among them,  and even more important to me, love them for who they are and keep my heart open to the beauty that is their lives.  This does not mean that I do not mourn their strategies. Indeed, after several weeks of being among captive birds and hearing of their hard lives in captivity, I am ready for a break.  My heart hurts to witness such suffering. 

Striving to relate through common needs also doesn't mean that I don't tell others what is going on in my heart.  Indeed there were many such discussions.  In that sharing, my aching heart does find relief, for at the level of universal needs, of mattering and seeing that other species matter, we were able to connect.  By seeing our discomfort as being at the level of strategy, and not at the level of universal needs, we find ways to empathize with one another, support one another, and hopefully  help one another see that we matter so that we can work together in ways that reflect the needs of all beings.

This is my dream and my prayer for we who share our lives with birds, especially this year as we work together to develop guidelines for birds under the Animal Welfare Act.  I strongly believe that we need all of us at the table, so that we might nourish birds, ourselves, and the world we share with them with our creative, loving, synergy.  May this be so.

 

 

American Federation of Aviculture Convention: The Magic of People and Parrots

 

 

On Saturday I gave a presentation at the American Federation of Aviculture (AFA) Symposium in St. Petersburg, Florida (my spouse and I call it St. Parrotsburg because of all the naturalized parrots flying around).  Some 20 years ago I was a regular attendee at these conventions when I was more active as a veterinarian of captive birds.  I returned to be with these aviculturists because I need them, and so the people and parrots of the world.  The goal for my paper, "Wild Psittacine  Chick and Nest Assessment: A Green Paper" was to convey my conviction that we need every one at the table to help solve the complex and often overwhelming problems confronting us in avian conservation, especially in Central America.  From my view point, everyone is on the conservation team for parrots.  If you work towards the well being of yourself, others, and birds - no matter where you are - you are contributing to the well being of the planet and all communities of mixed species.  We are one planet and we share one health.  The audience at AFA gave me many wonderful and clear suggestions, and already I believe I can share this information with those with whom I work more closely with on my various conservation teams.  Imagine what we might accomplish if more people become involved?

I ask you, therefore, if you would be a participatory member of this team.  One thing you can do is read this paper, and contribute to it.  I have it posted as a google document at:   https://docs1.google.com/document/edit?id=1EsNt-a3dengFR5YVdI2iWYKTcVNiY5btWF41yHakPyI&authkey=CKOSgoMJ&hl=en#.  You can make comments, edits, additions, and deletions directly there, or email me with your changes. If you have trouble accessing the document in google, email me and I will send you a copy of the paper.

 Please do distribute this document to others so that together we can build the kind of world we wish to live in.

 

 In gratitude,

LoraKim

AAV Welfare Symposium Helps to Liberate Wings

 

This week I am attending the Association of Avian Veterinarians Welfare Symposium.  The range of people present gathering in one room trying to learn and listen to one another was the broadest I have ever seen in one room.  We had avian welfare activists, staff veterinarians for Petco and Petsmart.  USDA and Canada welfare regulatory veterinarians, sanctuary parrot owners, advocates of poultry well being, conservationists, private practice veterinarians, and one minister (me). The name of the entire conference was “Waves of Wisdom” and it is clear from what was shared in that room that there is gathering wisdom and power, and the wave towards human and avian liberation is there for any who wish to ride upon.  Here are some of the comments I heard that make up the gathering wisdom literature  of those concerned with the well being of all life (with my accompanying commentary).

  

 

Terry  Whitting , (Manitoba Agriculture, Chief Veterinarian): It is easier to believe than to talk about things.   He was referring to the complexity of avian welfare .When people are confronted with complex difficult topics, they shift into belief language and avoid communication with other humans.  It is this belief language then that keeps us from communicating at the level of values, authenticity, and interconnecting empathy. He went on to say that though we do some good work with the human –animal bond; it does not count as a relational ethic.  If anything, it detracts from the real work we need to be doing of compassionate care.  He concluded that we need skillful communication and I can whole heartedly echo – boy howdy!  Hence my presentation two days later on compassionate communication at this same conference.

Julie Murad, Director of Gabriel Foundation, a parrot sanctuary, said in her presentation that we need a more compassionate society. Again, I echo, boy howdy!  But how do we get there?

One way I see is how we all came into that one room.  Somehow we are gaining a common language of beauty, and this interconnecting gestalt ties us to one another and raises the level of trust so that we find a way to still the chatter that says you are wrong or you are different, and open our hearts to the beauty and dignity not just of the birds we love, but of one another.

 Do you believe that I am over stating the evolution of these people involved in avian welfare?  Let me give you an example.  At the AAV Avian Welfare Committee Jan Hooemeijer said that the social event kicking off the AAV meeting held at Sea World was morally inadequate. As veterinarians interested in the welfare of animals we should not be supporting activities that diminish the well being of others.  Those in the room were asked if they agreed. The hands raised immediately and enthusiastically. There was no discussion, no argument - just a consensus to do the right thing for those whose inherent worth has been diminished and disempowered  by the human species.  Yet is seems that is we who have been disempowered over the long millennia because we do not see how our own lives weave into the interconnected web of life.  This is changing.  Seeing and sharing the beauty and worth of whales, parrots, and chickens is finally bringing us into our power, which liberates us as it liberates others.

Raising  Wings and Hands Together for Avian Welfare (Starling near AAV San Diego Hotel) 

 

Hands and Wings Raised in Solidarity in San Diego

How Would You Live Then?

A Male Northern Cardinal (Member of Family Cardinalidae along with  Grosbeaks)

  

What if a hundred rose-breasted grosbeaks

blew in circles around your head?  What if

the mockingbird came into the house with you and

became your advisor?  What if

the bees filled your walls with honey and all

you needed to do was ask them and they would fill

the bowl?  What if the brook slid downhill just

past your bedroom window so you could listen

to its slow prayers as you fell asleep?  What if

the stars began to shout their names, or to run

this way and that way above the clouds?  What if

you painted a picture of a tree, and the leaves

began to rustle, and a bird cheerful sang

from its painted branches?  What if you suddenly saw

that the silver of water was brighter than the silver

of money?  What if you finally saw

that the sunflowers, turning toward the sun all day

and every day -- who knows  how, but they do it -- were

more precious, more meaningful than gold? - Mary Oliver

 

 

Just this week I had a conversation with someone who asked "What is it you want?"  I answered:  "I would have that singing cardinal come down to the screened in porch where we are sitting and ask to be let in. Then she would come sit on my arm and allow me to touch her."  My friend suggested this would be against the bird's telos and if a bird did such as this, we would lose his or her's wildness.  I believe my friend was arguing that the bird is so very precious just the way she is, if we could but just see her as such. I believe that I too was arguing the same thing. I just did so by telling a fantasy story about a bird who desires to be with me, for that is all I desire - to be with birds, to be birds. To be centered with such heart centered awareness in every moment, that's how I would live!

 

How would you live if you could see the beauty around you in every moment as if it were a fantastical dream, so very wondrous because it is not a dream, but reality?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Rush from a Thrush

(Wood Thrush - Photo by Steve Malowski, USFWS)

Such Singing in the Wild Branches

Mary Oliver

 

It was spring

and finally I heard him

among the first leaves -

then I saw him clutching the limb

in an island of shade

with his red-brown feathers

all trim and neat for the new year.

First, I stood still

and thought of nothing.

Then I began to listen.

Then I was filled with gladness -

and that's when it happened,

when I seemed to float,

to be, myself, a wing or a tree -

and I began to understand

what the bird was saying,

and the sands in the glass

stopped

for a pure white moment

while gravity sprinkled upward

like rain, rising,

and in fact

it became difficult to tell just what it was that was singing -

it was the thrush for sure, but it seemed

not a single thrush, but himself, and all his brothers,

and also the trees around them,

as well as the gliding, long-tailed clouds

in the perfectly blue sky - all, all of them

were singing.

And, of course, yes, so it seemed,

so was I.

Such soft and solemn and perfect music doesn't last

for more than a few moments.

It's one of those magical places wise people

like to talk about.

One of the things they say about it, that is true,

is that, once you've been there,

you're there forever.

Listen, everyone has a chance.

Is it spring, is it morning?

Are there trees near you,

and does your own soul need comforting?

Quick, then - open the door and fly on your heavy feet; the song

may already be drifting away.

 

The Wood Thrush of North America has a song some describe as hauntingly beautiful.  As a child I walked frequently alone in the woods and though this bird sang just for me.  Whenever family confusion got stirred up on our home and my soul needed comforting, to the woods I went to hear a reprieve.  I'd enter the doorway of trees with heavy feet and after a walk singing I'd leave the woods flying.  The song of a bird tells us all that we all have a chance for liberation, even the most tortured, even the torturers.  Within the deepest recesses of the fractured human dilemma of competition versus collaboration, and care versus harm, we are hauntingly beautiful.  May you hear such a song of freedom today.

 

If you could give yourself a new chance today, what would it be?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Liberating Locked-up Compassion

 

This week I am visiting Minneapolis Minnesota as part of the Unitarian Universalist Annual General Assembly.  It is a week packed with indoor meetings and worship, rushed conversations, and strategizing on how to save and savor the world.  I admit to going stir crazy with so much human interaction and emphasis, much perhaps like a caged bird might feel.  Finally I managed to get out for a long walk this morning from our hotel down to the Mississippi river. Amongst the skyscrapers and parking lots were the expected urban birds: scattered pigeons, sparrows, and grackles .What was surprising was a lone bird feeder hanging from a parking sign, around which flew the city dwellers.  I wonder who considers the well being of these birds, often thought of as pests or blights upon our urban landscapes.  I wonder too who doesn’t consider the well being of these birds, as there was a lock on the feeder so it would not be stolen.  So there we have our paradox – how we demonstrate the liberating compassion of our kind and how we cage our compassion, keeping it locked up from others and from ourselves.  The miracle is that we have a choice.

Which do you choose – liberating or locking up your compassion?

Bird of Life, Bird of Death, Bird of Amazement

 

 (Scarlet Macaws - photo by University of Texas)

I am in the north of this continent, not so very far, but far enough that the sun rises much earlier and sets much later than usual.  I awoke with a vision of amazement, the Scarlet Macaw of Mesoamerica.  I cannot think of that bird without thinking of death, and of loss.  Reading yesterday in the book, “Seven Names for the Bellbird,” which is a book about how people value birds in Honduras, I came across a section on the Scarlet Macaw, the Guara Roja.  The author found that the Hondurans speak of the Guara in terms of how much loss of the natural world they have seen.  So the Guara came to me today, a bird of life and a bird of death and a bird of amazement.  I so strongly feel that to be on a journey of amazement I must also set one foot in the door of death.  For this being present to what is, which stuns me with the finality and infinity of my shared being.  So here I am at the annual gathering of Unitarian Universalist ministers in Minneapolis, hearing the call to shared ministry, which today I see as shared being.

Where do you journey for amazement, and is death a part of this path?

Rescuing Birds is Useful

 

Rescuing Birds is Useful

In the Gainesville Sun on June 11,  this headline read:  Scientists:  Rescuing Birds is Useless. As a scientist, bird veterinarian, minister, and a consultant in the human dimensions of conservation and wildlife, I found myself grateful that the ethical issues of bird rescue made the front page. I myself wonder how I might spend my days as I ask every morning, "Is what I do useless?"  or framed another way, "How can we as individuals and as a society put our resources to the most use?" This question is often framed as "charity versus justice" or "helping the individual versus changing the system that got the individual into the mess in the first place."  In respect to the Deepwater Horizon Disaster and birds, we wonder whether to save the one oiled pelican, or to save our energy, talent, and resources to provide habitat for pelican rookeries or to lobby for stricter protection of the environment. At one level, this is an individual’s choice.  What do you feel compelled to do - care for suffering individuals or for a suffering society and environment?  After 24 years working in avian conservation and medicine, as well as many years counseling humans in vocational discernment, I suggest that we each give of ourselves to causes where our deep joy and gifts intersect with the world’s great needs. If you receive joy and satisfaction in washing oiled birds, do so.  Mother Teresa often received criticism from her efforts to care for the homeless and poor instead of using her power and charisma to change the economic or political system in India.  Yet she did much to raise awareness and compassion through her efforts.

Our human response to the suffering of others is an interrelated whole.  It doesn’t matter so much the particular of what we do, just as long as we do something, and keep in mind to do no harm.  For the individual pelican or tern mired in the oil, it surely matters to them that someone is willing to ease their suffering, either through treatment or compassionate euthanasia.  No one trained in avian rescue wants to cause unnecessary suffering, so we have to be ready to make the hard decision whether to put a bird through the stress of medical intervention given the likelihood of recovery and release.  For me this means we need to study the issues as completely as possible so that we do the least harm. In the case of oiled birds, there are numerous studies indicating that a high percentage of birds do survive and can return to breeding.   The article in the Sun on 6/11 (online version has different title - Is Rescuing Birds Futile?) only referred to one study, which was 15 years old.  Since then our techniques for rehabilitation have improved, as has our ability to understand the situation from the bird’s point of view.  We ask, "If I were this bird, would it be worth it to go through the stress of capture, captivity, and treatment given the percent chance I will lead a satisfactory life in the future?" Although no one can answer this question for another or with any reliability, it doesn't diminish the importance of this question for every bird under our care.  I know that I find the pressure of “doing the right thing” nearly overwhelming when it comes to making decisions with wild birds, but I do not want my uncertainty to stop me from doing all I can. 

So what is stopping us as group of people from doing all we can?  Perhaps we suspect that if we spend time helping birds and not say some other group of suffering beings, such as orphans in Central America of out-of-work fisherpeople in the Gulf, we are somehow fundamentally flawed.  We don’t want to be people who say that birds matter more than humans, or that one kind of human or bird matters more than others.  We need not judge ourselves or others based on how we care for others.  When we help one being, we are helping others.   If we are called to help humans, we are also helping birds for they need us as individuals and as a species to be as healthy as we can. In turn, we need birds and their environments to be as healthy as they can for our own sake.  The fate of one is the fate of all. The important question isn’t whether we spend BP’s resources on which humans or which bird or animals, but how do we care for the interrelated whole.  By asking that question, I believe we move towards a future where we as a society can find a way to use our resources wisely and compassionately.  When we seek to help others and keep our hearts open to all beings, we nurture and heal our own lives as we nurture and heal the world. Saving that one oiled bird this week may not mean you can be sure she will pass on her genes or live a long life, but maybe, just maybe, it will help heal the human heart and condition, so that the days of all beings may be long on this earth.  And that's a useful thing.

(this article appeared in the Gainesville Sun June 12, 2010)

Bring Out Your Life

   

 Oiled Great Egret (Photo by Tom Mackenzie, USFWS)

Monitoring the Gulf Oil Spill Numbers of affected wildlife, I recall the movie, "Monty Python and the Holy Grail." There is a scene where the plague has come through old Europe.  Two men are pulling a cart heaped with bodies, shouting, "Bring out yer dead!"  A body moves on the cart and says, "I'm not dead yet."  One of the cart pullers then whacks the man over the head.

As of yesterday, 859 birds and sea turtles have been impacted, the majority have come in dead.  As our rescuerers walk the beaches and motor through the oil coated seas, they are heaping remains in coolers and laboratories around the Gulf.  The news is dire, and it's almost like many of us wish to say, "I told you so."  But the Gulf is not dead yet, nor are the key stone species gone, yet.  I wonder if there is something in our attitude and habits that is like whacking the sick and ill over the head. What if we saw more beauty in the world, every day, in each other and in our local communities of mixed species?  Would this give us more support, more passion, and more fire to bring our relationships and communities into line with our values and our dreams?

I want to shout to the world not to bring out the dead, but bring out the life, the joy, the beauty in all we do, in every moment, in every breath.

May it be so.

 

 

Great Egret (Photo by Mike Baird)