I’ve had a fascination with birds lately.  Since moving to Arizona, I have seen several different birds and am curious to know what kind they are.  I know we have hummingbirds.  I’ve had one entertaining me on a daily basis since we arrived.  I have a yucca plant that has been in bloom with the most beautiful coral colored flowers.  It’s just outside my office window where I can watch the hummingbirds help themselves to its sweet nectar.

The fascination with birds has also nudged me to think about feathers.  Feathers come in many sizes, shapes and colors.  Some are soft and fluffy, while others are bristly and barbed.  To really appreciate each one, you have to examine it from many directions.  You also have to touch it to appreciate its uniqueness.  Some feathers have even been artificially colored by people to make them look brighter to the human eye.  Bird’s feathers have evolved in order to help them blend in, show off when mating, help them fly, stay warm and keep dry.

While thinking about feathers, I was reminded of a story that a dear friend once told me.  It must have been profound, because I never forgot it.  We were talking about gossip and the intentional or unintentional harm it may bring to others.  She said “Talking about others is like a bag of feathers.  Each feather in your bag represents something you know about someone else.  If you keep the feathers in the bag, they go nowhere.  If you empty the bag and allow the wind to carry those feathers, they will fly in every direction.  Forward, backward, up, down, and sideways.  They move here and there, rarely stopping in one place.  They are fluffy and light moving quickly and easily with the wind.  Trying to gather them all back once released is nearly impossible.  You can never get them all back once the damage is done.”

I’ve had my tail feathers singed before and boy, oh boy, did that hurt!  My adolescent years were not the easiest (is anyone’s?), but having people talking about me was one of the most painful experiences of my life.  Yes, I know I made mistakes.  Most teenagers do (and no one is perfect). It was just made worse when the adults in my life, as well as my community, shamed me rather than supported me.  If you’ve ever had to pluck a chicken, you know how bad it stinks.  Well, this gave off a very foul smell!

I grew up in a small rural town.  It seemed that I was the one that everyone was talking and whispering about.  I definitely didn’t know how to handle the roller coaster of emotions.  I had shame, guilt, anger, and depression.  It seemed like I had no one in my corner of the nest.  At times it felt like a mob was after me.  This is probably why I am very sensitive today about people talking about me.

In reality, I did have a few very close friends who were extremely supportive.   I am grateful and appreciative today that I had them.  I was going down the rabbit hole and wasn’t sure I could pull myself back up.  All I felt was worthless and un-worthy and that no one really cared!  What I really wanted was someone to love me and understand me.  Isn’t that what all teenagers want and need?  It’s a difficult age.

I attended a workshop several years ago regarding the brain.  I learned that the brain isn’t fully developed until around the age of twenty-five.  Well, that was a huge ah-ha moment.  No wonder I was so mixed up when I was younger.  I was glad to get this little tid-bit of information so that I could offer myself some grace and forgiveness.  Hind-sight is always twenty-twenty.

So, in thinking about feathers I have to wonder…  What would have happened if someone had found my feather and threw it away rather than releasing it back in the wind?  What would have happened if someone had found my feather and brought it back to me where it belonged?  What would have happened if someone had found my feather and offered to help me in some way?  Take me under their wing, so to speak.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not really regretting my feathers (or my youth).  They have made me who I am today.  They have given me strength that I never knew I had.  I still wonder, though, if the underlying memories from the pain that I still feel at times would be erased?  Would they be replaced with love and kindness?  Would a few of my old feathers be soft and fluffy down, instead of bristly barbs?

As Bob Dylan said “The answer my friend, is blowin in the wind…”

Take care of yourself.  Take care of others.  Take care of the stories people have entrusted to you.  Understand that everyone is on a journey toward growth and understanding of themselves and it is in the sharing our stories that we understand ourselves better.

Feathers come, surprisingly, in all shapes, sizes, textures and colors just as people do.  Shake your own tail feathers because that is what makes you unique and lovable.