I’ve seen many crows flying around in my town for the last few days. These are sizable birds. When I see birds I think they must have a message for me. Maybe some of them do. Crows are able to recognize people’s faces. Is there a crow out there that knows me?
My life as a normal person is not at all interesting, so I try and convince myself that the presence of these crows in the sky has some mystical meaning.
I could be expressing gratitude for the uneventful life I lead. I’m not in a wildfire, or getting tear-gassed as I try and cross a border with my child. I have food, shelter, a car, devices that can access the internet, and a lot of stuff that I’d like to get rid of because I have a problem with clutter. Still, it feels as if there is something I’m missing. There’s something that I’m doing wrong.
Sometimes it helps to escape into art making.
The act of writing a poem also provides relief.
Wouldn’t it be be nice to be able to eat a giant chocolate candy bar whenever the craving strikes? I understand people who use food as a drugs. I see why people get high and drunk. We all need to escape the mundane.
This existential anxt is likely a product of seasonal affective disorder. Things should get better when winter comes and days begin to get longer.
For now, I’ll keep looking for messages from birds and making meaning with words.