It’s funny what we grow up believing to be true only to realize when we are much older that not only do we remember why we believe that fact nor do we remember if we actually were taught certain facts or simply came to believe them because they made perfect sense. For pretty much all of my life I was under the impression and apparently mistaken belief that birds sang during the day and, like me, went to bed and slept through the night. Imagine my great surprise when my own attempts to fall asleep with the windows open were interrupted, stymied, by the avian concert of a mockingbird.
In our small neighborhood we are surrounded by woods on either side of the road. Mind you, they are not thick woods, but they are wooded areas and they are a great sanctuary for birds and bears; we’ve also heard the cries of coyotes, but I can’t say with any certainty that they live in these small wooded places. Still, at night, I have been treated to the hooting of an owl occasionally, a soothing sound that also invites me to smile even in the wee hours of the night and predawn morning.
But several weeks ago, as I was settling into bed, eager for a good night of rest, my attempts to fall asleep were disrupted by some loud, almost aggressive singing of my favorite daytime birds. My long-held belief that birds nest down for the night was shattered, by this experience and perhaps from the decibel level of the trilling song stylings of my neighborhood birds. And, while I typically enjoy them during the day, encouraging them with feeders full of their favorite nuts and seeds, I was a bit chagrined by their enthusiastic concert performance in what is traditionally the middle of the night and not appropriate bird-singing hours.
Still, I certainly wasn’t going to influence them in any way, and so, with a closed window and shifted perspective, I listened to the more muffled singing and marveled at the repertoire of the birds who obviously feel a need to sing out at all hours. What else could I do but accept them for who they were and let their songs remind me of the beauty I hold dear during the daylight hours?
Last night (or early this morning, maybe), as some of them started up some of their singing, I found myself considering the ways these birds remind me of my teenagers and their own unpredictable ways. As the (neurodivergent) mama to two neurodivergent teenagers, I took both solace and joy in the idea that, like these night-singing birds, my girls don’t have to fit anyone’s expectations in this world. Too often, teenagers, neurodivergent or neurotypical, receive messages from us that they should or need to meet our expectations for who they are and what they can do. And while my girls sometimes fall prey to these messages, and I sometimes am the one sending those messages until I catch myself, I love that these two are becoming strong enough to stand up for who they are.
In other words, they are becoming a bit like those birds who break out into song in the darkness. They are embracing who they are and working on accepting who they are and what they can do. I do my best to reinforce this idea for them. I tell them this often even though I sometimes slip up and broadcast the messages of our culture about what they should be capable of at certain points in their lives. Truly I believe they get to navigate this world, growing and developing and embodying who they are created to be, at their own pace. And, like the experience with those birds, I appreciate who they are; it’s not my role to tell them when or what to sing. This is their time to sing, to travel their path, and this is my time to encourage them, to cheer them on.
And so I do. When I look at them, what I see are two incredibly remarkable young women who have some wonderful strengths. I realize they don’t always see their strengths; they focus more often—too often—on their limitations to those strengths or on their weaknesses. But as I’ve watched them through the years, especially more recently, I am awed and encouraged by who they are becoming. They are those night-singing birds who are led by their passion and desire and instinct to sing out when it strikes them.
And while I also realize they yearn for things to happen at a faster pace (who doesn’t??), I am proud of the steps they’re taking and the progress they’re making. They are a fantastic example and reminder that we all get to live this life on our terms, hitting milestones according to who we are in certain moments. May they always choose to sing out, to embrace who they are as well as who they are becoming and measure themselves only against who they were yesterday and not who they think the world expects them to be. Because this world needs a little night singing. I know I do.
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