My Timing is Perfect
May 17, 2026
Spring migration is so fast and furious that it’s easy to slip into the idea that I should hurry, do more, go more, and generally try not to miss out. Funny, isn’t it? When the cornucopia basket is overflowing, the fear of missing out grows stronger!
Birding culture certainly encourages this. Pass a birder during migration and the most common question is, “Have you seen anything good?” There are rare bird alerts, and I’m aware that every birder in the county has seen the Swainson’s warbler hanging out not too far away.
I also learned a long time ago that “chasing” birds never works for me. My practice is about my relationship with the place, not about checking things off a list. There’s nothing wrong with a list at all, and I’m not in any way criticizing. In fact, I love that so many people are so excited about birds! The universe just keeps reminding me to do what I do and not get caught up in anything else.
This year, I have been focusing on developing a better relationship with my body. I’ve never used an alarm, but my fear of missing out anxiety often woke me before my body was really ready, and then I rushed out the door. This spring, I’ve been allowing my body the time it wants to sleep. I’ve learned that she prefers a slightly slower morning routine, even if it means we leave a bit after sunrise.
It’s funny how something becomes a part of your identity. I’m the woman who photographs every sunrise - except now I’m not. I’ve been using the mantra “my timing is perfect for me” for a few months now. When I find myself thinking I need to hurry, I repeat the mantra over and over.
On Friday morning, after a long and deep night’s sleep, it was about 30 minutes after sunrise (6:30 AM) when I arrived at the lake. Another birder was there, and he told me he had seen 27 black terns 30 minutes earlier. I had missed them.
Not going to lie, my initial reaction was a sinking feeling. It felt like a loss to miss something so special. I held that part of me that felt sad and let her know I understood. Then, without pushing that feeling away, I started speaking my gratitudes out loud as I walked.
I was deeply grateful for a great night’s sleep and for feeling really good that morning. I was grateful for a body that has been able to walk 3-4 miles every morning for two weeks, looking for birds. I was grateful that the weather had been so great during my week off! I was grateful for the trees, the lake, and the creek that give life to this area and the people who had the foresight to set aside this land for a park.
Then I said out loud, “My timing is perfect for me.” I heard myself add, “If I missed something so great, something else amazing must be waiting for me!” That thought shifted everything! My energy changed completely, and suddenly I was sure I would see something amazing.
Something else amazing must be waiting for me!
Of course, I did! My timing WAS perfect for me. I arrived at the red-shouldered hawk’s nest just as mom was feeding them. I thought there were three in the nest, but surprise! There were four robust, healthy-looking youngsters stretching their wings.
A few minutes later, I found myself standing in a sea of warblers. Numerous American redstarts, a Wilson’s warbler, several vireos, and the surprise of the day, a golden-winged warbler. A common yellowthroat finally let me take his picture after two weeks of hearing them.
I want to be the kind of person who is excited for others when they have a great experience, even when it’s something I would like to experience. I want to respond the same way I did when a little niece or nephew ran up to me, excited about a snail on the ground. As I arrived back at my car, shouting gratitudes to the universe, I realized I was even grateful for having missed the terns that day because I now had a new perspective that will help me be more of the person I want to be.
The idea that we can have it all is a setup. We always have to make choices. Spring migration is the perfect analogy. I cannot be everywhere, all at once, all the time. Other people are going to see things I don’t see, even in my favorite locations. I can’t have it all in life - but I can experience the magic of the moments that are mine.
I can’t have it all in life - but I can experience the magic of the moments that are mine.
This year, I have been consciously focusing on receiving what’s present and not rushing off to the next location. I’ve been lingering until I feel truly full. I’ve been listening to the cues in my body that say it’s time to move or stay a little longer.
I’ve had so many amazing experiences in the past two weeks thanks to this lingering. Not only do birds often show up while I’m lingering, but my body feels better when I listen to her cues about when to stay and when to move.
This week, I lingered near the mulberry tree, which was just starting to ripen. A pair of rose-breasted grosbeaks arrived, and several warblers followed. I lingered out near the water, and terns suddenly appeared.
I lingered on the trail when I heard the wood thrush sing. Of all the birdsong, this may be my favorite. I’ve only heard it a handful of times, only ever in the spring. I was stopping people and telling them to take their headphones off and listen!
I can feel the response in my body when I start to rush, and noticing is helping me to slow down just a little. Sometimes I let the trees or the water help steady me to a more natural pace, feeling into their rhythm and speaking gratitude for their assistance.
We probably have another week of migration, but I have to return to work, and there’s a lot of rain in the forecast. Whatever happens, I will arrive at the end of this spring migration with a heart full of gratitude.
All the work I’ve been doing to connect to my body, to learn to listen, and to trust in my own timing is starting to flower, just like the wildflowers in the field.
Thank you for the recording!
Yes~! Live in the moment and go with the flow! Great writing with brilliant photos.