The benefits of befriending a birder
My daughter became a birder, and it's had some surprisingly positive effects on my life.
A couple years ago, my daughter, Sadie, began a gradual transformation that eventually led to her being able to honestly describe herself as "bird obsessed". Everywhere we go, I notice her staring up at trees, rooftops, and sometimes vaguely up and into the distance. When she was younger, she used to get lost in daydreams, and I thought this was just a remnant of that, but I've come to understand this is actually a product of intense focus and fascination- with our feathered neighbors.
I'm not sure exactly where this all started, but it was most likely rooted in her interest in photography. I'm told this is common: photographers become birders, and birders become photographers- it's a pretty natural progression.
We took a trip to New York about a year ago, and my wife and I were a bit surprised (and a little disturbed) that at least three quarters of Sadie's photos were of pigeons. Like most city dwellers, I tend to think of pigeons as dirty sky vermin, but to her, they were unendingly curious and delightful. They apparently have intricate social lives, with backstories, drama, conflict, family ties, and complex rituals. She told us about how these feral birds are actually the descendants of escaped domestic pigeons, who themselves were originally bred from wild "rock doves", who are cliff-dwelling foragers.
Last Thanksgiving, she got to know one of our family friends: an octogenarian, former biology professor and amateur wildlife photographer who lives in South Florida. He invited her to join a text chain with himself and some of his friends, where he shares a recent photo every day. As it turns out, she finds this absolutely splendid, and despite being at least sixty years younger than any of the other participants, enjoys both the photos (which are admittedly quite beautiful) as well as the banter (observing the way a group of eighty-something former professors struggle with SMS can be entertaining in itself).
While her trajectory was probably already predetermined, seeing these pictures definitely accelerated things. It also helped that we gave her some money for her birthday towards a new camera, which she supplemented from her own earnings as a camp counselor to buy a pretty nice entry-level Canon and lens... which she now carries everywhere.
Fast forward to today: Sadie has become shockingly knowledgeable about birds. She recognizes virtually every bird in our local area by their calls, and can rattle off facts about Cedar Waxwings, Chimney Swifts, Carolina Wrens, and a hundred other birds I would have never known about, absent our dinner conversations.
As Sadie's dad, I'm certainly thrilled that she's found something she's so excited about, especially given that it gets her outside and away from her phone and social media. There's certainly worse things a teenager could be into.
But what's been most surprising is how much her interest in birds has impacted my life as well.
As a person who types for a living, I have a tendency to forget to exercise. Having a high-energy dog has helped a bit, since it forces me to go for a walk at least a couple times a day. I do enjoy walks, and occasionally go on a longer hike. It wasn't until birding that Sadie started to get interested in going on more of them with me.
Of course, I love just having an excuse to spend some time with her. Teenage girls don't exactly have a reputation for enjoying time with their dads, so I'm savoring time I know is going to slip away fast. But beyond just that, I've noticed some changes in the way I think about my relationship with the outdoors.
When I hike, I tend to get lost in my own head- often working through whatever programming or management challenges I'm facing at work. This has generally been useful to me- an afternoon dog walk usually helps me to step back and rethink whatever I'm working on, and I usually end up finding better approaches than I would of if I'd just kept plowing through.
But since I've been doing birding-oriented walks with Sadie, I've found my attention focused in new ways. I'm seeing more of what's happening all around me: absorbing the movement of the trees, the wind, or little flutters in the brush. My full brainpower is engaged processing data from my peripheral vision. When we hear a bird call, we fall silent, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound, and stand quietly for a few moments.
All this use of my attention feels a lot like what I've tried (and failed) to achieve in the past through meditation. I always had trouble maintaining the patience and persistence that it takes to interrupt my thought patterns- where I get stuck repeatedly reliving the past and anticipating the future.
It's been much easier to achieve this kind of mindful focus when we go birding together- especially when she's radiating excitement about a new bird. I can't help but absorb some of her enthusiasm, and it helps to sustain me and keep me present.
What's more: I find that this attention to my surroundings is sticking- even when she's not with me. Previously, odds are I'd be visualizing data structures, replaying the latest difficult conversation I've had with a coworker, or being angry about a government causing needless suffering.
Instead, I'm directing more of my attention to ferns, wildflowers, rock formations, or the flow of water in the creek that borders one of my favorite trails. I'm noticing the sensation of the wind on my skin, or the feeling of endorphins from the exercise.
I recently started have these little moments of spontaneous gratitude- being momentarily overwhelmed by how much beauty there is to be found in my little pocket of Eastern Massachusetts.
I have friends and loved ones who experience real, chronic anxiety and depression, and I recognize how lucky I am that my head isn't generally an unpleasant place to be. I do often enjoy getting lost in an engineering problem while I walk or drive, and thinking through recent social challenges often allow me to temper my initial emotional reactions- which I think make me a better colleague, friend, dad, and husband. Even some of the time I spend worrying about politics is useful as motivation to get me off my ass and do something.
But I have had trouble, especially over the last few years, worrying a lot about things I can't control- in ways that aren't helpful to me, or anyone else- ways that are more paralyzing than motivating. It's given me a bit more understanding of what debilitating anxiety might be like.
Birding with Sadie has, surprisingly, given me a new perspective on how I can choose to use my attention. I still spend some of my walks in my imaginary idea world, but I'm finding more and more often, I can take a few deep breaths, reset, and listen for bird calls.