Death woke me up when I was 10 years old. The violent collision of a tiny bird on a glass window. This beautiful creature, with its delicate feathers in the most vibrant shades of orange, yellow and black had me completely fascinated. This wasn’t the drab, gray sparrow I saw in parking lots around town. What was it? At that moment, I became obsessed with all things birds. My face was constantly buried in a field guide as I studied the varying feather patterns, beak shapes, eye-rings, wing bars, tail lengths and songs. Everywhere I went became an adventure in birding identification. Nothing made me happier than checking off a new bird on my list. In my childhood imagination, I would see myself flying high above the world, soaring alongside whichever bird I was tracking in the moment. It was the best daydream ever.

Being a bird watcher is a lot like being a detective. You learn to listen for the slightest sounds and to see the tiniest of movements around you and your curiosity leads you to do whatever it takes to identify the source. I realized early in my life that I have an ability to see and hear things differently that I know now was developed in my birding days. Like my favorite bird, the kestrel, I can fly high above and see the big picture in a situation but also pick up on the detailed nuances that are often crucial to identifying opportunities for improvement. I hover over those to bring clarity and light to the process. I detect patterns that provide insight into how things are working and then I notice when that pattern is broken or stagnates, and a gap is created. I love finding those gaps. Identifying them. Sometimes the gap is very subtle. It starts out as simply believing that since we’ve always done something this way, it is the only way to do it. We limit ourselves and put blinders on to any other possibilities. We get comfortable. We clip our own wings. For me, when I can help someone see the gap, to show them they will be safe and supported as they branch onto a new path, to put the plan into action and see them soar, well that is when I am soaring again right beside them.

Birds are still a part of my life. I can often be found staring out the window together at the hummingbirds in my yard. The fascination remains along with the lessons they have brought to me. The biggest one being that, it doesn’t matter what size, shape, color or gender we are, or how daunting it seems, when we open our minds and hearts up to every possibility around us, we can all fly.