Karma Kilimanjaro

My day hasn't ended yet, but I already know what the most fulfilling moment of it was. (Don't laugh) - it was feeding a sparrow outside the PCL. I had sat outside for a few minutes to take in the cool weather [and buy Broken Social Scene tickets] when this little bird started bobbing around my feet. I looked at her, she looked at me, and somehow I knew she wanted food. Okay, okay, maybe it wasn't some spiritual connection and I just read between the lines - "Oh, look, a friendly bird. Must have been trained to like people because they give her food." But no matter the reason, I understood.

So I fed her my snack, a Quaker Oatmeal-to-go. I hadn't really planned on eating it (the oatmeal I mean, not the bird, although you could say I'm planning on never eating another bird so long as it's healthy and possible) so it wasn't some huge sacrifice or anything, but I'm typically stingy when it comes to packaged food.

Anyways, I sat there, breaking up the snack into pieces small enough for her to eat. It's amazing how small their mouths are, how even when I broke it into the smallest pieces my fingers could manage, she still struggled. I worried that she might be allergic, or it would get stuck in her throat, or that I was completely fucking up her ability to live in the "wild" of Austin, but mostly I just sat there. I don't know how long I watched her or how silly I looked to other people.

Tibetans have this awesome idea. Every creature you encounter, you must view her or him as your mother in a previous lifetime. That sparrow could have nourished me as a newborn thousands of years ago or a generation ago. Feeding her was like feeding myself. It is like eye for an eye, but instead of poking the shit out of someone else's eyes you give them yours.

This will sound silly to most people, but I'm reading this amazing book called Cunt, in which the author urges women to take back the term "cunt" as a positive reflection on womanhood. She asks women to get in touch with their spiritual side that is intricately tied to their sexuality in ways such as becomming more aware of one's menstrual cycle. Seeing as I'm due for a good period soon, it's striking to me that I'm also much more spiritual in this part of my cycle. Biologists might say that I'm simply experiencing hormonal fluctuations, but I know I'm taking part in a much deeper aspect of my womanhood.

Seeing beauty in feeding birds is spiritual, which explains a lot why older people like to feed them in parks. They are much more aware of their mortality and, in turn, their spirituality. Giving back to the Mother who breathed life into their nostrils is only fitting.

On a side note, Ann Curry did not make it up Kilimanjaro, which greatly disappoints me. She was climbing the mountain as part of NBC's publicity stunt about the environment, to show how soon enough the snows of Kilimanjaro will be no more. Watching clips from the mountain - seeing the terrain, the porters, the misty fog - brought up this deep nostalgia within me. I hated being on that damn mountain almost every minute I was there, but now I understand the connection I have with it. I miss the frigidity of the mornings, the selfless smiles of the porters, the tasteless food, the connection with my body and its connection with nature.

While part of me wants to say, "BOOYA ANN CURRY! I MADE IT UP KILI AND YOU DIDN'T!!!" I really feel bad for her. Making it to the top was the most self-satisfying feeling I have ever experienced. She missed out this time, but maybe she will recognize her connection to Africa's highest and most beautiful mountain and try again. If not, maybe she can interview me for the Today Show. You never know...

[Side note: Right after I fed the bird, I got free cookies in Jester. Karma much?]