4 Mindfulness Parables for The Present Moment: Insights from 'The Song of the Bird'

Sometimes the right book finds you at the right time, and Anthony de Mello’s The Song of the Bird was one of those books.

The book is collection of different parables from religious traditions, with many parables directly related to mindfulness. My wife and I used to end each day together by reading a parable from the book in bed. We would talk it over, dissecting, pulling apart, hoping to understand and grasp some of the richness that seemed at times obvious and at times just beyond our reach.

This post contains four mindfulness parables from The Song of the Bird - pointing us towards the aliveness of the present moment around us.

Parable #1: Holiness in the Present Moment

The Japanese warrior was captured
by his enemies and thrown into
prison. At night he could not
sleep for he was convinced that he
would be tortured the next
morning.
Then the words of his master
came to his mind. “Tomorrow is not
real. The only reality is now.”
So he came to the present - and
fell asleep.
- De Mello, 21

This is one of my all time favorite mindfulness parables, and I think of it often when I find myself worrying or anxious about the future (which, honestly, can be quite often). Richard Rohr writes, in the first page of his book on contemplation “The Naked Now” the following:

The future is by definition the unsayable and the uncontrollable, filled with paradoxes, mysteries and confusions. It is an imperfect world at every level. Therefore the future is always, somehow, scary.
- Rohr, 15.

The practice of mindfulness or contemplation is all about bringing our awareness away from a scary, future projection that does not exist yet, and back to the present reality of the moment.

If we have an anxious part that is concerned about what the future holds, more than anything, this anxious part probably wants to feel safe enough to let go of its job of being hypervigilant. It can learn to relax once it sees you able to find your own Self, or center, in the present, and can trust that you will be able to lead from the same grounded, stable, divine center when the future arrives, come what may.

I should also point out that in addition to having an anxious part, almost all of us have a self-critical part as well. Sometimes when we first become aware of mindfulness these two parts can begin talking to each other:

First the anxious part is worried about the future, then the critical part joins in when we try to live mindfully and criticizes us for not being able to do it “well-enough”. My own critical part can believe that I should be just like a Zen master like the Japanese warrior in de Mello’s parable.

However, part of mindfulness is simply becoming aware of all of those parts, noticing them, allowing them to be, to say what they need to say, and then lovingly releasing them as we become able, returning back to the present moment.

Parable #2: The Little Fish

“Excuse me,” said an ocean fish.
“You are older than I, so
Can you tell me where to find
this thing they call the ocean?”
“The ocean,” said the older fish, “is the thing
you are in now.”
“Oh, this? But this is water. What I’m seeking
is the ocean,” said the disappointed fish
as he swam away to search elsewhere.
- De Mello, 12

If you’ve ever seen Pixar’s movie Soul, this parable may sound familiar to you…

Anthony de Mello’s writes a brief note after the parable that ends with, “Stop searching, little fish. There isn’t anything to look for. All you have to do is look” (de Mello, p. 13).

After reading this parable again, I find myself taking a pause from my computer, and taking a moment to look, and become aware. I can hear rain drops beginning to fall outside that I hadn’t noticed earlier, and the plastic clinking of Legos being moved in mass by my daughter in the other room. I notice the tension in my back and neck at having been hunched over the coffee table writing, and the familiar sight of our family dog chewing vigorously at his paws due to his allergies.

These are all normal, everyday, mundane sights and sounds…and yet in this moment, I feel able to witness the beauty, sacredness, uniqueness of this moment unfolding around and within me.

Parable #3: I Chop Wood!

When the Zen master attained enlightenment
he wrote the following lines to celebrate it:
“Oh, wondrous marvel:
I chop wood!
I draw water from the well!”
- De Mello, p. 16

De Mello comments on the parable that “that is the essence of contemplation: the sense of wonder” (p. 16). I am definitely no master of any kind - Zen or otherwise - but isn’t it beautiful that when the Zen master attains enlightenment, his celebration is simply a new appreciation of the previously “ordinary” and “mundane”.

If you became enlightened, what everyday activity or experience would become ‘wondrous’? How would that poem reflect your own inner change? Here are three of my own:

Oh, wondrous marvel:

I take my daughter to gymnastics class!

Oh, wondrous marvel:

I met a friend for coffee!

Oh, wondrous marvel:

I found out something new about the woman who always bags my groceries!

Notice that the two things the Zen master notices are basically the ancient version of daily chores! Chopping wood, drawing water from the well… what would it mean for to cultivate a sense of awareness and wonder and marvel during your own contemporary equivalents?

Oh, wondrous marvel:

I took out the recycling!

Oh, wondrous marvel:

I unclogged the bathroom sink that drained so slow because it was full of hair and toothpaste!

Oh, wondrous marvel:

I folded and put away the laundry!

That last one may actually be a bit of a marvel if I put away my laundry! When my daughter reached a certain age, probably around 2, everyone started buying her toy versions of basic household items. A toy vacuum cleaner, a toy oven and stove, a toy Keurig coffee maker…and she loved playing with them! She was totally aware of the wondrous marvel of vacuuming, baking, or brewing coffee…and maybe the rest of us need to be reminded of the wonders of these daily activities.

Parable #4: Did You Hear That Bird Sing

The disciple was always complaining
to his master, “You are hiding
the final secret of Zen from me.” And
he would not accept the master’s denials.
One day they were walking in the hills
when they heard a bird sing.
“Did you hear that bird sing?” said
the master.
“Yes,” said the disciple.
“Well, now you know that I have hidden
nothing from you.”
“Yes.”
-De Mello, p. 15

De Mello’s commentary on the short parable includes the sentences, “If you look at a tree and see a tree, you have really not seen the tree. When you look at the tree and see a miracle - then, at last, you have seen!”(de Mello, p. 15).

I shared this parable with my wife last night and I asked her, “what should I say about this parable? What kind of commentary do you think I should include?”

In all her wisdom she simply replied, “Travis, there’s nothing more to say. That’s the whole point! It’s not about words and ideas and talking about it…it’s about allowing yourself to experience it.”

And so, maybe there is nothing more to say…which seems like a fitting place to begin to wrap up this post.

Wishing you the best on your mental health journey.