There is a profound and humbling wisdom in the way of birds. Their wings unfurl, stretching to embrace the open sky. With tentative beginnings and growing assurance, they rise, they soar, they glide, they land.

I observe and listen to them from my window every day while writing. They come and go to the bird feeder gracefully. Cardinals, doves, grackles, mockingbirds, sparrows, blue jays. Each doing their thing.

For birds, it seems, the very act of flight is their ultimate destination. While they mate and migrate and look for food, there's a palpable sense that being airborne is where they truly belong.

In contrast, we humans often cloud our journey with incessant preoccupations about our destination, often hindering our ability to soar. We stifle our innate desires to love, to learn, to play, to seek spiritual truths. We want to be certain of where our efforts will lead us.

These doubts, hesitations and expectations deprive us of being present.

Why do we seek guarantees for everything we do? How many times do we hold ourselves back by refusing to let our spirit teach us to soar? How frequently do we seek external guidance when the true guide resides within us?

Fear, expectations, worries, destinations to reach, possessions to acquire, identities to embody, experiences to collect. It’s an ongoing chase.

Birds are instinctively compelled to sing and take flight simply by the presence of sunlight. Why not do the same?

Like birds, you are destined to fly and sing – that's all. And by fly and sing, I mean: To let the creative energy of the Absolute flow through you. To play your part, and play it well. Without attachment to specific outcomes. To just trust the invisible hand that’s guiding you. To focus on the process of doing things rather than the results. And to never forget to enjoy life.