The Existential Hummingbird

I seem to have made a career lately of being the answer person.  For everything. I'm not entirely sure how that has come about but it seems that when people can’t find the answers on their own, they end up calling me.   There are days I’m so inundated I hang up the phone and think…I’m not answering one more phone call and turn off the ringer.  They just leave voice mails.  One such voicemail tipped me over the edge one day…and it wasn’t even noon.  A harried, distraught and mad employee could not find a parking spot so chose to park in the 15 minutes emergency parking - but, she said, “I can’t go out there every 15 minutes to move my car.  What am I supposed to do?!?  Call me back with a solution!!!”  I’m unsure why she thought I could or should solve her parking problem.  It’s simple math.  There are a finite number of parking spots and more cars than the lot can hold.  Park somewhere else.  Walk a few blocks further.  Perhaps she wanted me to hop in her car and drive it around and around until one opened up.  I declined to call her back.  

If I ignore the phone calls, there is, of course, the emails that keep filling my inbox.  People who forgot what I previously told them, people who need something, people who write essays and say nothing (just. get. to. the. point.) people who are complaining, people who need your input, your expertise, your knowledge, your time, your help, your clarification…all wanting you to help solve something for them.  Of course if I close my email, there’s still my door…and sometimes they’re stacked up 3 or 4 deep wanting something from me.  It has a lock on it and I use it from time to time…but then they just stand outside my window looking desperate or dejected.  I have work to do people and it doesn’t involve solving all your dilemmas.  

Does it sound like I need a holiday?

Yeah…I think I do.

What was I saying?  Oh yes!  Answers.  It is the Thursday before a long weekend.  I took Friday off which gives me 4 whole days of no one asking me for anything.  I came home tonight, set myself up on my patio with a glass of wine (and a warm blanket because it’s still too cold for MAY on the Island…Mother Nature must be menopausal!!) and declined to turn on the TV, or Netflix or stream any music.  I just wanted silence.  I just wanted some ‘me’ time…whatever that meant.  And as I pondered my own questions and dilemmas for once, I thought - I wonder if God ever hits His capacity for the phone calls, voice mails, emails and appearances at His door by people (you know…like me) who bring every manner of complaint, need, sorrow, plea, request and seemingly impossible situation to Him to solve.  We want answers!  We need answers!  Call me back with a solution!!!  I can just see Him bellow “you kids are driving me crazy!!”

I’ve had my fair share of unanswered questions.  Problems that can’t be solved by me.  Situations that can’t be rectified.  A past that can’t be changed and a future that's up in the air.  And one thing I know, if you require an answer to them all…you will either end up horribly bitter or dead. I’ve learned - at least for the purpose of my own sanity - that there will be many, many things in my life that will remain unsolved and unanswered.  

And I hate that.  

I believe “pat answers’ were invented in order to satisfy our need for resolution.  But as you all know - or at least those of you who have been on the receiving end - pat answers are…ummm…well…bullshit!  They are crap on a cracker.  If you start your pat answer with the word 'maybe'…just stop yourself and discard what you were going to say.  Save yourself and the person you were going to say it to a whole lot of trouble.  Seriously...just step away.  I have a LOT of unanswered questions.   Big ones too.  And none of them can or should be met with a pat answer. Those questions start with; Why was I even born?  What was the purpose of that?  Why didn’t my mother or father want me? Why did my marriage have to turn out the way it did?  Why did family and friends turn their back on me?  Why am I here when there are others, who died much too early and were so well loved?  What is my purpose on this planet?  What am I supposed to be doing with my life?  Existential angst aside, I have not had one single one of those questions answered.  And likely never will.  I’m learning (slowly - and at times grudgingly) to be OK with that.  I still ask them from time to time because the need is deep within us to search for an answer or a reason to help us make sense of the confusion.  But I’ve begun to wonder instead, if I got all the answers to my questions, would I like the answers?  Would the answers satisfy me?  Change me?  Change my life?  My perspective?  The one thing I learned from meeting my dad, and the subsequent years in a relationship with him is this:  meeting my dad was great. It answered a couple questions, but not the ones you might think. And yes, it changed my perspective to a degree but it did not change me.  I am who I already was.  And if he dropped out of my life tomorrow, I would still have me.  Intact.  He cannot remove any part of who I am.  

Sometimes knowing the answers isn’t as necessary as you might think.  

And then this hummingbird flew up next to me and stopped…hovering just shy of the feeder I placed on my fence post for it’s dining pleasure…he seemed to quickly glance at me (cuz hummingbirds do everything quickly) and it was as if he (she?) told me to chill.  Just ‘be’ for awhile. I don’t know what a hummingbird thinks about all day as it buzzes about but I’m pretty sure it’s focus is all about the next flower it’s going to visit or where to hook up with it’s buddies to explore the trendy new dining spot (my patio, please let it be my patio).  And as I stare up at the sky and watch the clouds (way to many clouds…keep moving…bad clouds…we don’t want you here!) I am reminded that life keeps moving and changing and none of it hinges on whether we all have it figured out or not.  

That hummingbird came back.  He’s a saucy little dude with his iridescent magenta head.  He looked me square in the face this time and I said Hi. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing a lot of him this summer.  

Anna's Hummingbird.  Photo Credit: RAMcQuade