rethinking the bird

I read something recently helped me understand why 'the bird' event seemed to resonate with me so much. I think. I'll let Mr. Dick take over.

"One day I was starting into a post office in some town down in California and there were birds' nests up in the eaves of the building. And a young bird had flown or dropped out and was sitting on the pavement. And its parents were flying around anxiously. I walked up to it with the idea of picking it up and putting it back up in the nest, if I could reach the nest." I paused. "Do you know what it did as I came near?"
"What?"
I said, "It opened its mouth. Expecting that I would feed it."
Wrinkling her brow, Pris pondered.
"See," I explained, "that shows that it had known only life forms which fed and protected it and when it saw me even though I didn't look like any living thing it had ever known it assumed I would feed it."
"What does that mean to you?"
"It shows that there's benevolence and kindness and mutual love and selfless assistance in nature as well as cold awful things."
Pris said, "No, Louis; it was ignorance of the bird's part. You weren't going to feed it."
"But I was going to help it. It was right to trust me."

Lately I've been feeling an overwhelming need to be needed. To be depended on and trusted. Its hard to describe. I'm not sure why, but it explains why I've really jumped head-first into my job and put my personal life on the back burner. Maybe I should get a pet.

It sounds petty to rephrase it to as 'I want to be appreciated', but I suppose its not an uncommon feeling. Someone I work with is, well, a simple man. He's extremely frustrating at times, but his needs are few and modest. He seems to extract sustenance from basic gratitude. A simple 'thank you' goes further with him than anyone I've ever encountered. I try to make my appreciations known with everyone, but it seems to make me feel better when I let him know someone's benefiting from his actions.

The thought of someone depending completely on you, not even your physical presence, but the very concept of 'you', is completely terrifying.