delight as empathy

A pothole spanned the muddy road that would take us home, brimming with standing water. A shaft of sunlight played with its surface. You might think then of troubled jasper, earth fermenting. Five mynah birds bathed themselves in this play of fluid warmth, light, wings stirring air into whisper, silence into rippling. They took turns splashing, as if to absorb each other’s delight. 

Mudita is a Pali word for one of our most beautiful qualities, a capacity to share in one another’s joy. 

On the far border of this festive pool, two saffron finches waited, hopping, not impatiently. They were so small. So bright and intimate with one another in a mirroring of movement, choreography of love. Love also for the mynahs, the afternoon, the pleasure of cleaning, hanging out. There were no demands, an alive kindness in being with what is. 

An absence of envy. 

Another bird waited, smaller yet, not larger than a goose egg. No fear. There. Eventually the mynahs left, bodies sleek black. The others plunged. The finches showed their tiny kin the way: Head first. No differences or competition. Quiet hearts pulsing.

A Sunday out and about. We waited until the birds flew off. Quiet. The sun setting. An endangered bat sailed across. Being as shared happiness.

credit gary meulemans | unsplash