Songbirds reward the stillness that SMA requires

One of my favorite things about springtime is the return of the local bird life, especially the songbirds. While certain species stay through the winter, the warmer weather brings forth a flurry of feathers as both year-round residents and seasonal visitors bustle with new activity.

I can’t claim to be as much of a birding expert as some people in my family, but I do enjoy the marvelous winged creatures. Simply watching them makes me smile. Because living with SMA forces my body to be fairly still, I’ve discovered I sometimes have opportunities to admire them more closely than I otherwise might. Let me show you what I mean.

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A few feathered friends

In summer 2024, Halsey Blocher enjoys the sun on the back porch, where the birds sometimes visit her. (Courtesy of Halsey Blocher)

A few summers ago, there was a Carolina wren that chose to nest in a birdhouse near our back door. These are small birds, but what they lack in size, they make up for with their powerful voices and bold attitudes.

While I sat on the back porch one afternoon, reclined in my wheelchair and reading an e-book, this protective mama bird decided I was too close for comfort, and she was going to do something about it. She promptly fluttered down from her perch, landed on my foot, and delivered a noisy warning before returning to the nest. I was so shocked that I could only stare in slack-jawed amazement at this much smaller being bravely sitting atop my sock. Even if I’d wanted to move my foot, though, SMA wouldn’t have allowed more than a little wiggle.

Like the wrens, the personalities of hummingbirds cannot be contained within their tiny bodies. The ones living in our neighborhood are not shy. They frequently try to get our attention, sometimes fluttering back and forth in front of the windows, when they want to thank us for the tasty, new flowers or to remind us that their feeder needs to be filled.

When I sit near my mom’s potted flowers, it’s usually just a matter of time before a hummingbird shows up in search of a snack. The plants aren’t the only thing that interests them, though. They often hover in front of my face and chirp in greeting as they munch. (Did you know hummingbirds chirped? I didn’t.)

Sometimes they sneak up on me, though. Whenever a hummingbird approaches from behind and I hear their rapidly beating wings before I see them, my mind tends to think I’m about to encounter the world’s largest wasp. My instinct is to quickly jump away, but my atrophied body won’t allow it. Some days, my muscles can’t muster the strength to even flinch. But that’s OK because the sudden movement would likely scare off the hummingbirds, and I wouldn’t get to visit with them.

One of the family dogs, Thor, lies quietly by Halsey Blocher’s wheel while she reads outside on a warm March day. (Courtesy of Halsey Blocher)

Many birds are content to be near humans if only we’re willing to still ourselves and be patient. Even our family’s large, energetic dogs have learned to apply these concepts so they can partake in birdwatching.

But it seems unlikely that I would’ve had these specific experiences if SMA didn’t require me to remain mostly still. Even with their courage, surely these tiny birds wouldn’t have come so close to me had they not noticed that despite being much bigger than them, I’m not mobile enough to be dangerous. I’m more of a gentle giant.

Our rewards await

I’ll admit that I don’t always appreciate the stillness that living in this body demands. It means I need someone else to do nearly everything for me. I’m grateful to have wonderful support networks I can ask for help, but it can still be frustrating when I can’t so much as scratch an itch on my head, lift a piece of chocolate to my mouth, or push the buttons on my joystick.

But at the same time, my stillness is always eventually rewarded in some way. Whether big or small, these rewards make it worthwhile to me. Birds and the other wonders of nature are one of many gifts that I don’t want to miss because I’m too busy to take notice or be approachable.

Spring is an active season, and not just for the birds. It’s also the time for people to break out the bicycles and get serious about spring cleaning, along with several other seasonal activities. These are all good practices for us to have, but perhaps we need to remember to balance them with more calm, quiet, and stillness.

Stillness isn’t entirely optional for me, but I can still seek to use it intentionally. We all can, even if we need to keep practicing and hear an occasional reminder. Our stillness can be a space where we embrace the beauty within and around us and notice the goodness being offered to us. What rewards might be waiting for us right where we are? Let’s try it and find out.

Note: SMA News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of SMA News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to spinal muscular atrophy.