Leap Before You Look

Often in my writing, I've mentioned the view from my office window here in Manhattan. For me, there are few things as inspiring as gazing at the river while writing or witnessing someone process a breakthrough with the wind dancing in the leaves and branches of the trees just outside...

So it was with a bit of sadness late last month that I prepared to move to a new location. Sadness and truth be told, trepidation, in spite of having found a space that sings to my heart as much if not more than where I've been.

On the last day before the move, I sat and gazed out at the view I had come to love one last time. Then I saw him... the reddest of cardinals perched in my favorite tree. In five years of looking, I had never seen its equal, in color or presence. We watched each other for a long time, him seeming to study me as much as I him...

and then he leapt, hurtling at top speed toward the ground before catching the wind and ascending to the skies...

I remained for a long while after, appreciating the metaphor as well as the gift of nature that brought it to me. I traveled back through my life to the many opportunities that have knocked bravely at my door. Often I answered. Often I didn't.

There is something in the nature of change that tugs at the heartstrings and pulls at our fears, even when it is planned and for the best. Yet it is those that embrace and even celebrate change... those that leap... that attain that which they desire. The rest stand only to marvel at the view that others provide, or through their own lens of longing at their circumstances unaltered.

Sitting here today in my wonderful new office, gazing at a different face of the same river's beauty, I’m reminded of that cardinal, and the message of his lesson and namesake. We are here only for a moment; the seasons continue to turn whether we leap or whether we languish. The choice is ours.

Photo © Asbed Iskedjian