Lessons in life from a battle with the crows

At least three mornings a week, Samantha (my spouse) and I go to the Colombo Swimming Club, a quiet private place for some exercise and a swim. I enjoy this morning routine and use the back garden to stretch, jog and use the bars. However, over the last two years this routine has been disturbed by a battle that I have with a bunch of crows, which, I presume, are not happy about me entering their space.

It all began when one bird attacked me while I exercised. I then hit back with stones and shooed them away and thought it was sorted. Not so. The next morning was a shocker. As I entered the garden, I felt a bad vibe in the air and sure enough there must have been over a hundred crows—they were waiting for me. They got into a noisy formation and dived at me. I have been in some major scrapes in my life with fellow humans, but this scared the hell out of me. The gang leader looked mean, would sharpen its beak on the wire it was on and swoop down on me with others following. I saved myself from a major assault by running for cover under a roof. I reluctantly skipped my exercise routine and jumped in the pool in dismay, but the gang agitated the entire time I was there. It took me a few days to get back to the club again so I thought the dust would have settled, but not at all. This time there were not so many, but they kept diving down at me in intervals, so I had to get aggressive. That morning I got my exercise shouting, running at them and throwing rocks to take control of my space.

Ever since then it has been a matter of me getting aggressive with any crow that entered my air space. I created a no-fly zone for myself while I exercised. It became a part of my routine.

Reflection

While all this was happening, I pondered on how things had got out hand and questioned myself as to whether I was contributing to this stress on both sides. Samantha was quite amused at all this, as she never got attacked. I was further perturbed as my work and general inquiry into life has been how to live in harmony with people and the world around me. I teach these things and counsel people in the business world and schools, but here I am at war with a bunch of crows. Even though I attempted to compartmentalize the two—the crows and humans—deep down I knew I could not. We are all interconnected. I realized this bad blood between us is my doing too and maybe I could change the situation. One day, Samantha suggested that I call a truce—“Why don’t you just leave them alone and do your thing?” So, I took it to heart, minded my own business and left them alone. Not two minutes had passed when one dive bombed me and that was the end of the truce.

So, I went back to my old ways. When I was in there, it was zero tolerance and I enforced the no-fly zone even more vigorously with stones flying everywhere. Yet, over time, my exercise routine had gotten tedious with this bother. I was beginning not to look forward to it anymore. Something had to change.

The real truce

So, one morning I thought I must call a real truce with the crows. As usual, when I entered the garden, the war cries started, I forgot all about the truce and I got back into my old routine easily to find rocks and young coconuts on the ground to clear the air space. Over the last few days, I had also noticed that two aggressive crows did not get frightened away easily and kept coming back. Throwing rocks became tiring and I realized it took my time away from relaxing and exercising. I may have exercised my body but mentally I was stressed. I had enough of all this aggression, so I made up my mind. That was it. I took a deep breath and exhaled. In exhaling, I imagined my breath rooting to the earth and inhaling the breath spiraled upwards to the sky. My posture was anchored straight, but relaxed allowing the energy to flow between the earth and the sky. Next, I focused on my head, heart and belly for alignment and meditated on my breath. Now I felt centered and confident. I learned this practice at the “Embodied Leadership through Conscious Embodiment” programme from an Aikido teacher, Wendy Palmer at the Shambhala Institute in Canada last year.

Then I spoke out to the two gang leaders who were cackling from the wires above and told them in a soothing voice—“Hey guys, I have had enough of this, we are both agitated, there is a lot bad energy around, and we both loose if we continue like this. Lets call it quits and leave each other alone.” Then I said a silent prayer wishing them wellness and happiness. My intentions were made clear. I actually felt a release—no more hatred, no more violence with the intent of hurting.

At the same time, I am aware that, I may yet get attacked, but I am going to think of those as exceptions, as it takes time to settle these things. After all, we do speak different languages, so there could be some misunderstandings. Nevertheless, I will not react, but keep showering love and compassion on them. I must have spent another ten minutes there exercising, and I did not notice the crows being there anymore. Maybe this will work. Why did I not do this earlier?

Breath for life

In going back to my breath, I went to the basic sustenance of my life. Breath is controlled by my Reptilian brain. In the same way, this part of the brain prompts me to eat when I am hungry or drink water when I am thirsty. My reptilian brain also ensures that I breathe even as I sleep, so I take it for granted—it is all on auto pilot.

Also my ego is very much attached to this breath. Not paying attention to my breath unleashes my ego, as it gives me superficial confidence and strength. This ego occurs automatically without me even knowing in my subconscious mind. So, my attachment to possessions, my achievements, my reputation and notion of separateness from other beings and the world, all make up my ego. Often egoistic reactions are childish and embarrassing because they promote and protect ‘me’ and what is ‘mine’ at any cost. Letting my ego dominate me, I say, “How dare you crows attack me, the all important ME.”

Reptiles, like snakes, only have the reptilian part of the brain. So, when they are hungry, they eat whatever is around, even their own. Luckily for us humans, we have another part developed called the Limbic brain, which gives us emotions. This way when we are hungry we don’t eat our own. When I pay attention to my breath, I prompt my limbic brain into action, so the emotion activates my moral compass, makes me aware of my values and ethics in the way I live. Focus on my breath helps this self inquiry and ebbs away my fears and the ego slowly dissolves. The limbic brain allows the power of my intention to manifest.

When I reflected, I realized my behavior with the crows was egotistical and went against the values that I live by—respect other beings. So I centered with my values consciously when I was intent on not going to battle with them anymore. I realize that this intention cannot be accessed through my ego. I have to let go of the ego and become humble, so I forgive and forget for a new beginning.

So, what is the moral of this?

There was a great lesson for me in this battle with the crows. I see its relevance to the world of humans. I look around and see so many suffering through poor relationships, whether it is with people or the work they do. With good intentions, we can change this negative energy. Our thoughts form this energy, and if it is negative, it gets perpetuated towards an action that can be fraught with fear, hatred and everyone suffers—it brings out the reptile in us. If it is positive energy, there is joy and happiness. There is a pattern. The good thing is we have control over this. The first step is to focus on and control our breath.

That will slowly disintegrate the ego. Only then you can activate the power of intention and our limbic brain. It is all easier said than done; think of how difficult it was for me to change my behavior with the crows. It takes a commitment, discipline, concentration, patience and most of all time.

Putting it to practice

Think of a person you do not like and have a poor relationship with. Yet, you need to live with or work with this person. The negativity in this relationship must be grating at you, worrying and keeping you down or in a fighting mood. You have the power to change this with intention. Like I did with the crows, you realize the futility of the daily battle. It is such a waste of time, energy and most of all toxic. All that negativity hurts the body, the mind and keeps us off balance, so it affects our health too. But, we remain smug in our thought, that “It is not my fault!”

Take a deep breath, exhale and feel the connection between the earth and the sky. Gain strength and confidence from that energy, centre yourself with the head, heart and belly and you will slowly become aware of your ego and how it is driving you to point the finger away. This focus on self will help you become more objective and ask “how am I contributing to this mess?”

Putting a mirror on the self is humbling. This is the humility that is required to begin to wash away the negative energy of this relationship. Then you can become skillful in your actions, accept the imperfections, your own fallibilities and begin to accept that others have them too. This will allow you to become gracious and to connect, inspire you to be generous, to give, rather than ask and to do this with dignity and integrity. The other person may not respond in kind right away. These things tend to take time. At least you are taking this weight off your shoulders, like I did with the crows.

Use the power of intention to initiate a transformation to what is really second to your true nature—which is love, compassion and empathy. It is beginning to work with my new friends, the crows, when I went the day after, but I do realize it will take a bit of time for them to trust me fully. I will be patient.

Go on take a deep breath…

Lalith Gunaratne
Colombo, Sri Lanka
29th March 2009