"Bird by Bird"

 "Driving a car at night, you can only see as far as your headlights  but you can make the whole trip that way." E.L. Doctorow

Thinking back to our family's drive home from Florida a few years ago. We had made it without incident most of the way and then we hit a snowstorm.  The worst of the storm was the last hour to our home and the visibility was so poor we were unsure if we should continue.   After gassing up, we headed back on the highway and to our good fortune, we landed behind a snow plow. He was going thirty kilometers an hour and blocking all sight of what was ahead on the road, but with a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel my husband, Mark decided to continue to follow. The distance between us and the plow was a car's length, illuminated by the lights on the vehicle. In this space, crawling along, we made the increments of the final leg of our journey home. Not knowing what was ahead but trusting in what we could see in the small illuminated space in front of us. 

The world population has rolled over to eight billion. Mother Earth is also driving with her headlights on and is only seeing this small space in the here and now and she is figuring out how to navigate it. She too is doing what only makes sense in this light from that high beam. She is sitting with all of us under the weight of excess and still being that presence of calm. Still providing us with this moment of peace in the view she provides.  

I had the pleasure of hearing the author Anne Lamott share the origin of the title of her book, Bird by Bird,  lessons on writing and life.  She talked about her ten-year-old brother who had been struggling to write a report on birds which he had known about for three months and it was now due tomorrow. He was seated at the kitchen table, close to tears, and surrounded by unopened books on birds, paper, and notebooks,  and his father came and sat down,  put his arm around him, and said, "Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird". 

These stories, memories, and facts landed in my lap this week and I realized that, without the words or the analogy, we too have been helping our daughter, Maya, with her transition to life in much the same way. We have savagely cajoled every last ounce of connection and purpose we could out of what was right here in front of us, the present circumstance with the intention to create a meaningful life and future for our autistic daughter.  We began with minuscule steps.  Post an ad, interview a person, inquire about a job placement, follow up, and follow through. Stumble across opportunities and programs, break down days, and hours. If not that then this. If this then maybe them. If them then also her.  Search, inquire, say no to that, try another, try again.  It has always really been bird by bird for Maya and most of us really. There was never a map or even a social structure for a person with a disability in our community or any other we know of.  It was looking at what was in front of us. What are the people who care doing? What map have others followed or created? Where did they arrive? Can we expect more,  or better? Can we try for something else? Is there something that someone else hasn't thought of? None of us can question, push or advocate all over ourselves all the time, or know what the future will look like but we can break it apart bird by bird, just like we do thought by thought in a meditation or moment of stillness. 

I think we can all appreciate what a meaningful piece of wisdom Anne has offered here in her beautiful story of her brother.  We all understand that none of us know what lies ahead by design and that we can only try our best with our own illuminated space before us and not chase the idea of the future. With our own range of sight, we decide to pick up the paintbrush instead of wondering if we will paint like Picasso. We put our fingers on the strings of a guitar before planning to perform a concert one day, pick up a pencil before we can write that memoir, and strap on the skis, before seeing the win of our first race. We play just this note, write only the line that matters, or paint the first stroke on the canvas. We are designing only the moment we can see and letting go of what comes next but knowing it leads somewhere.

"Bird by bird" in this way for Maya now looks like working in a school preparing and delivering a breakfast program, helping sort items for a hot lunch program, assisted by my husband or me on one day and a wonderful young woman on two others. It looks like attending a cooking class supported by another amazing young woman while socializing with others whose experiences are similar. It is a youth group with old high school friends and outings for independence. Its singing group, yoga class and drama group, L'arche Fredericton gatherings, and therapeutic riding. It's extra time to slow down or sleep in or cancel when it's not going to work today. It's slowly and intentionally looking like a life she can thrive in with continued areas for growth, improvement, supports, and change. It is becoming Maya's life as she adds color by color, "bird by bird".  Of course, we are always drawn back into the questions about the future. Sometimes the task can seem so daunting or overwhelming that we land in that state of freeze like Anne's brother.  We are led away from the headlights and into the darker unknown spaces where we may want to know how it will turn out if we will meet the deadline, and what the current situation will look like next year or in five years.  We want to know if the systems or circumstances will improve. Wondering too if we will find the time or the resources as we project into the future and to where our attention is stranded in the present.  We may all find ourselves here in search of insight, long-term solutions, and reassurances about the future at times. But we can come back to our own remaining voice of reason or the comforting words of another, " It's alright, we are taking this situation,  circumstance by circumstance, love by love, or step by step, and for most of us we will live an entire life, a beautiful life in this very way, "bird by bird".