The nest was enormous. I wondered how many of them could fit in it at one time. I was told that bald eagles reuse the same nest year after year and continue to build onto it, making it bigger and bigger. It amuses me to think that this bird could be a feathered version of what we humans call a hoarder. On the other hand, it must be that much more traumatic to find themselves in need of a new nest and completely starting over, with all new materials and nothing carried over from their original home.
People like to pose the question, "if your house were on fire and you could only go back in to get one thing, and your family and pets are safe, what would you get?" I avoid answering that question because it makes me uncomfortable to think about. I do not have an answer.
A few days ago I stood next to a good friend, watching as she helplessly tried to make that decision for real. Her house was not on fire, but she had a limited time to gather what she felt she needed, as two uniformed officers kept a watchful eye on her abusive husband. She was escaping.
My husband and I were there with her for support, but we felt powerless to help her in any other way. How were we to know what things had sentimental value? She looked so vulnerable and lost, trying to determine the difference between "need" and "want". It was eye-opening, to say the least.
While there is no sense of urgency, it is easy for me to take a mental inventory of my possessions and reason that I could live without all of them as long as my family is safe with me. But in a crisis, what would I not want to live without?
For whatever reason, I can spend hours contemplating this and never come up with an answer. So why is my house so cluttered?
No comments:
Post a Comment