THE BLUE-BLACK GRASSQUIT'S HARD WORK

At http://www.backyardnature.net/mexnat/blueblak.htm we meet the Blue-black Grassquit, a common finch- or bunting-type bird in this area's abandoned fields with plenty of tall grass. On that page we see something extraordinary the little bluish-black bird does: From an exposed perch in a grassy field, suddenly he'll issue a high, sharp tsik! and launch straight up into the air for a foot or two, then just as suddenly return to the perch. And this return to the perch is a head-first dive-bomb, not a peaceful settling down. Our pictures show it. They're worth reviewing.

I'm thinking about this nowadays because for the last month or so each time I've biked down the rancho trail, when passing a certain abandoned field, the same bird always has been in more or less the same place, every 15 seconds or so doing his jump/dive routine. How many thousands of jumps must he have accomplished in his life? And he's showing no sign of slowing down.

And, why does he insist on diving head-first, instead of just calmly settling back in place? I assume it's because he's showing other grassquits who might be looking that by doing it the hard way, he's obviously a fit, serious grassquit capable of protecting his territory, so don't come around trying to sneak a few of his grass seeds.

Of course many humans work just as hard, in their own ways, and one suspects that at the root of it all the reasons are the same: To keep up appearances, to impress the opposite sex and intimidate possible rivals, to maintain one's territory, to do "what's right."

This compulsion to make the extra effort that runs throughout Life of Earth is worth thinking about. I've come to believe that 99.99% of all we do and think, including such compulsive behavior, arises from genetic and social programming. We're like robots programmed to reproduce in a way that evolution proceeds in a certain direction, then to die and let the next generation do the same thing, ever refining the species.

Thinking like this might get depressing, except that there's that tiny part of our thinking and feeling not in the 99.99%. That part from time to time nudges us a little beyond where we'd normally go, inspires us to be a little more than we normally are, and enables us to think a little clearer than usual. That part not in the 99.99% is the fountain of natural gracefulness, of enduring art, and true spirituality.

With grassquits, that which is not part of the 99.99% concerns itself with refining the species, not the individual. But with higher-order mentality of the kind possessed by humans, that which is not part of the 99.99% manifests in the individual's mentality. This is an evolutionary leap from one dimension to another that underscores the importance the Universal Creative Impulse places on mentality. Or maybe it means that through mentality we can transcend the physical and enter the spiritual.

Ancient Oriental mystics developed meditation techniques enabling us to look into ourselves, identify that part of our mentality that is not part of the 99.99%, settle next to it, and bask in its radiance and perfection.

Yet, there are many kinds of meditation, many paths to the radiance and perfection. When I go to town past the weedy field, lovely and green in brilliant sunlight, with its hard-working little grassquit jumping, calling tsik!, and executing his perfect head-first dives, by intensely paying attention, that's my meditation.

Moreover, I'm finding that in this little world defined by what I behold, think about and feel, there must be infinite meditations, each as good as the next, as long as one really pays attention.