– Eleanor Roosevelt
See Dick bring breadcrumbs to the beach. See him give them to Jane. And see Jane give them to Sally to feed the seagulls by the seashore. OK, enough with the weekly reader. Let me tell you my story about feeding seagulls by the seashore, which really doesn’t involve any Sally, except when I would sally forth to feed these birds.
When I moved to an oceanfront condo in South Florida at the turn of this century, I would sit on a chaise on my beach every morning and meditate. Before I closed my eyes and after I opened them, I would watch the seagulls hunt for food – with that great vision and bird’s eye view they’d spot a fish just below the surface of the ocean and dive bomb for it. They didn’t seem all that successful, so I decided to feed them. I wanted to ensure that they get their minimum daily requirement of whole wheat bread, garlic croutons, sesame bagels and organic brown rice cakes. For these little scavengers, high carbs are not out of fashion.
So I started to bring several pieces of bread and crackers in my bag. When I finished meditating, I’d walk to the shore and attempt to feed them by hand. But attempt was clearly the operative term. When I’d approach, they’d fly away in fear. They were frightened of me, perhaps because so many small children would run after them and throw things at them. Seeing their fear, I’d simply deposit their breakfast on the sand and walk away. When I was far enough away, they would fly back and feast.
Within days, however, their fears lessened. Soon, a few friendly – or adventurous and hungry – birds would approach me when I was about to throw their meal. They’d either recognized me by then, or could sniff out garlic croutons from 50 paces. Perhaps they wanted to greet the hand that had fed them. They have bird brains, but they’re no dummies.
But I wanted to develop a relationship with the rest of these less-than-adventurous gulls if I was going to feed the whole flock – and by hand. Day by day, more of them would come a little closer to their food giver, their fears lessening. Some even followed me back to my beach chair after feeding time was over. One day, I sat on the beach with my friend Dale, who suggested we throw the food close to where we sat, in order to watch them stretch their comfort zones. We offered them an all-you-caneat bakery buffet, but in order to enjoy it, they’d have to do what they were afraid of. I was reminded of my clients who want something big – a new business, a new client, a new boyfriend – and I tell them to do the things they fear. On the other side of fear is where their breakthroughs occur. The fear is their attachment to the status quo, their resistance to a breakthrough.
One seagull, the loudest squawker who clearly wanted first dibs, harassed every other bird from coming for the food that he himself was too scared to get. If he couldn’t have it, he’d raise a racket to make sure nobody else did. (How many people are like him?) He angrily protected his belief system that birds shouldn’t get close to people. Baby birds, however, hadn’t bought into his mind set yet, so they innocently went after what they wanted, and feasted away closer to where we were sitting.
I should add that, over time, my seagull friends in Florida began to get increasingly comfortable with me. Many of them flew to my chair as I stepped onto the beach. Clearly, they had come to know who I was. Not just that, but quite a number of them began to eat out of my hands as well. Not quite like the ones in Arosa, Switzerland and Mt. Rainier in Washington, who ate from my cupped hands; the ones in Florida did, however, swoop down to my uplifted hands.
In some ways, you too are like those birds before they got that comfortable.
God gives you abundance and unconditional love, but you settle for picking up crumbs, because you’re too afraid and guilty to get too close. You need to let go of the same fear that held back the squawking bird, and let yourself have the bounty awaiting you. You need to awaken your innocence, the little bird in you, and feast away and soar to the heavens. And feast away as those seagulls used to do with me on the morning beach. Because in no time they started playing football with me.
