Sensitive Girl and the Robin’s Nest

One of our resident robins in the mulberry tree, opening her beak to cool off on a hot day
One of our resident robins in the mulberry tree, opening her beak to cool off on a hot day

Note: This is a follow-up to my post on June 30 about the nesting robin, so if you haven’t read it, you might want to go back and start there. (A Robin Nesting in my Yard!)

This is one of those situations where my HSP temperament is a challenge as well as an asset. Once I discovered the nesting robin in our yard, of course I wanted to watch her progress. Now I keep my binoculars on the kitchen counter so I can look at her every time I go in there. I worry about her in bad weather, which we’ve had a lot of lately. I worry about the squirrels and blue jays that roam our yard, because they’re known to pillage nests like this one. If something happens to the nest I’m going to be heartsick. I already feel a bond with this mama robin and a bit of responsibility for her too.

Robin journal v1This deep empathy with animals is something a lot of HSPs share. It can bring us great joy and a satisfying feeling of connection. But it can also be very painful because we can easily imagine ourselves in their place. I have certain memories of animals in pain or suffering that have stayed with me for years and that can still make me tear up when I think of them. Just hearing an animal crying in pain can make my heart hurt for hours. Even knowing an animal is afraid upsets me, regardless of whether she’s actually being hurt. The vet’s office is like a war zone for me. Sometimes while I’m in the waiting room I can hear cats wailing in the back room while they’re being attended to. It’s bad enough when it’s someone else’s cat, but when it’s my own cat I just want to crawl under the table and cover my ears. Unbearable.

Robin journal v2Sometimes I think animal suffering upsets me more than human suffering. Those tv commercials that show abused animals upset me more than the ones showing starving humans. I know you might be judging me harshly for that, but I can’t help how I feel. I’m very uncomfortable admitting that to the rest of the human species, but I think it’s important to acknowledge that there are many of us out here who feel this way. And the thing is, I’m not exactly sure why I feel differently about them. Maybe it’s because I see the animals as so much more vulnerable and innocent. Yet I realize that lots of humans are also vulnerable and innocent. So what’s the difference?

Robin journal v3Maybe it comes back to my relationships with humans, which, for the most part, haven’t been as fulfilling and pure as the ones I’ve had with animals. For example, animals have never been spiteful or cruel to me, whereas humans have.  No animal has held a gun to my head, but a human has.

Or maybe it’s because I know that animals of all species are completely dependent upon the whims of mankind — we destroy their habitats, we trap and enslave them in prisons (zoos) for life, and we do cruel experiments on them to develop medicines for our own species. They are 100% at our mercy, with far too few legal protections.

Robin journal v4Yes, I think that’s it. I see them as intensely vulnerable, and maybe in some way that reflects on how I see myself. I feel a kinship with them that goes very deep, and I want to protect them whenever I can. So if you see me running across the yard shouting at a squirrel, don’t worry about my sanity — I’m just protecting “my” robin from a nest raider.

P.S. Don’t miss the Nesting Journal entries in the blue boxes above — there’s a surprise in there!

A Highly-Sensitive Person Goes Birding

Beaver with mouthful of seaweed v3 (640x414)
Beaver with a mouthful of aquatic plants for a mid-day snack. (Click to enlarge)

I want to tell you about a conversation I had with a stranger yesterday while I was out birding. To understand the significance of it, you need to know that one of the things I experience as an HSP is an above-average sensitivity to sudden and/or loud noises.  I know that most people will be startled by a sudden noise –like a car backfiring — but I have problems with things most other people don’t even seem to notice. Movie theaters are a good example: At a movie with my husband last week, I had to cover my ears for much of it because the sound was so loud I couldn’t concentrate on what the actors were saying. It felt like it vibrated to the core of my body, jangling every last nerve to the point that I felt like running away. And it wasn’t even an action movie. (You’d think I would have learned to take earplugs to the theater by now!)

This kind of response to noise is common among HSPs; we can be so overstimulated by the way the sound feels that we can’t focus on anything except getting away from the source of it. It’s one of those things that can be a minor or major problem, depending on the particular situation. Luckily, birding isn’t usually a noisy activity. Unless you’re watching a big flock of Canada Geese or Sandhill Cranes, that is. 🙂

Can you believe this pair nests here every year, right beside a shooting range?
Can you believe this Osprey pair nests here every year, right beside a shooting range?

But there’s a section of our favorite metropark that’s located next to a gun club, and when we go there to enjoy nature, we’re also bombarded by the sudden and loud sounds of frequent gunshots. Despite knowing that there’s a fence between us and the guns, and that they’re shooting at targets and not at us walking in the woods, I find myself tensing up at every shot.  Not a very pleasant place to bird. And that gun club is the reason we avoided this part of the park for years.Sign for trail closing due to eagle nest

But as I got more into birding and wanted to find more birds, I finally forced myself to “get over it” and go there occasionally. After all, there’s a way cool Osprey nest on the cell tower there, and now there’s also a Bald Eagle nest there too. (I wrote about the “secret” Bald Eagle nest a couple posts back, but since then the park has put up signs about it so it’s no longer secret. They’ve also blocked off parts of the trail to protect the birds.)

Anyway, here’s the conversation I had yesterday with a stranger I met on the trail right beside the gun club fence. We said hello and then this:

Him: I’m going out to see the eagles…there’s supposed to be a nest out here somewhere.

Me: Yes, there is.

Him: I’m out here all the time and I didn’t even know about it. I’m a club member next door (indicates the gun club on the adjacent property).

Me: Yeah, they’ve blocked the trail off to protect the eagles, but you can see the nest from across the pond. (Then I told him where to stand and which direction to look to see it.)

Him: Ok.

Then we exchanged a few more words about the Osprey nest nearby, then said goodbye. A few steps later I turned around and we had this further conversation:

Me: Excuse me…do you know if there’s any particular day or time when there’s no shooting going on at the club? I’d like to be able to come see the birds without the sound of gunshots.

Him: (Proceeds to tell me which days they have certain shooting events…which I didn’t care about, then he finally says that there’s no shooting on Tuesdays.)

Me: Oh, good! I wish I’d asked about that years ago…

Him: It’s not that much shooting, really. They’re just target shooting behind the fence…

Me: Oh I know, but it just bothers me. I find it sort of jarring and not conducive to enjoying nature.

Him (looking at me oddly, or is that in my imagination?): I guess I’m just used to it. [Pause] Well there’s less shooting now because nobody can find any ammo…. (He then tried to have a conversation with me about why they’re hoarding their ammo when they can find it, and how the government is trying to take their guns, etc. I extricated myself from that as politely and quickly as possible and went on my way. It was a beautiful day and I was there for birding, not politics.)

I wanted to tell you this story because at the point when I told him I found the sound of gunshots “jarring,” I found myself feeling like there was something wrong with me because I had to make a big deal about something that most people seem to accept without much fuss. And that self-criticism about being sensitive is something I really don’t like. It’s not like I’m choosing to feel the noise of the guns all the way to my bones — it’s just the way it is. I can’t change the way my nerves send signals to my brain, can I?

So why do I feel I have to apologize for trying to avoid things that make me uncomfortable like that? I think it’s because our American culture has such a strong prejudice toward extroverts that we’re all conditioned throughout our lives to think that our sensitivities are abnormal. I guess since HSPs only make up about 15-20% of the population, we are probably technically “abnormal.” But you know what I mean, right?

But we’re judged enough by the non-HSPs around us, and we need to not judge ourselves so harshly on top of that. There’s nothing wrong with arranging your life the way you like it, and that includes avoiding things that upset you and allowing time to recuperate after an event that overstimulates your nervous system. No matter what anyone else says or thinks about our sensitivities, we need to honor our own needs before we can be of any use to anyone else in our lives. Remember the emergency instructions the flight attendants give us before each flight? “Put the oxygen mask on yourself before assisting anyone else.”

As I write this I feel like I’m giving a speech — standing on my soapbox, so to speak. But it is what it is. I’m feeling braver about talking about HSP issues since so many of you have sent me comments and subscribed recently. (By the way, thanks for all the lovely comments on my “About Me” page last week.) But even so, I’ve edited this post over and over for days, not really sure what I wanted to admit publicly, and I keep hesitating when I’m almost ready to publish it. But you know what, I’m going to be brave right now and send my thoughts out to the blogosphere. If even one person is helped by my perspective, then I can tolerate the judgment of all the rest. (That feels really good to say!)

Now, where are those birds?