The hummingbird on my shoulder

Gratitude to Jenny
at Hivemind Studios for 
my sweet little bird

She is the little one in Wangari Maathai's story, who sees the fire and does something about it. The other, bigger animals -- who are watching the fire helplessly -- think she is crazy as she flies back and forth to the river, bringing her tiny mouthful of water to the fire. 

To them, she says, "I am doing the best I can."

Our Indigenous Knowledge Keeper told Wangari's story one cold Sunday this past February, the day we had two very unhappy volunteers at Inner City Pastoral Ministry. I found them having an angry discussion in the parking lot after all the work was done, and they said to me, "How can you do this, week in and week out, when nothing improves and things downtown are only getting worse and worse?" It felt like an attack.

All I could think to say was, "I am the hummingbird. I am doing the best I can."

In all the situations in my life that seem hopeless, I think of the hummingbird. In broken relationships. In my imperfections as a mom. Listening to world news. Volunteering where there is need. Facing climate change. Trying to live simply. Caring for the people I love. 

I am doing the best I can.

That's why there is now a small female ruby throated hummingbird on my shoulder, like the one who visits my yard every summer. She's the one and only tattoo that I never planned to get... until one cold Sunday in February.

I like to think we are all hummingbirds.

Be a hummingbird

Huh? What?

If you watch this, you'll understand.

And if you want a little more inspiration, read about the life of our wonderful storyteller, Wangari Maathai, who was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2004. On September 25th, she passed away due to complications from ovarian cancer. She was definitely a hummingbird.

We who know about her are her legacy. We all need to be hummingbirds, and do the best we can.