Feng Shui for Real Life

Two birds have already bounced off my office windows this morning – one hit the window across from my desk and the other dive-bombed into the window on my left – and it’s not even 9am. Yesterday, a bird bounced off the other window across from my desk. Fortunately, they all seemed to have survived. But it seems to be the season for bombardier birds, because last weekend I got a frantic email from a friend who lives about 5 miles from me saying that 14 robins had bounced off the glassed-in room at the front of her house. Sadly, these fellows were not so fortunate as mine.

In Feng Shui, birds are considered powerful symbols of new opportunities that are there for you, even in times of adversity. So, I figured it was time to consult my colleagues at the International Feng Shui Guild (IFSG) about this one.

“Any Feng Shui significance with birds flying into windows?” I posted on the Guild's special private Facebook page.

“Sadly, this is likely a very mundane problem,” wrote Mia Staysko, Chair of the IFSG Board. “Usually, at two times of the year windows in buildings reflect in such a way as to make it appear that they are not there. The poor birds simply cannot see them."

I appreciated Mia’s explanation, and in fact the lighting was strange the morning my friend had her bird bombardment – the sun was gleaming off the mountains that were covered with new snow. Within seconds the sun got brighter and fog rolled in and created this eerie light so we couldn't see anything, and that could have easily spooked the birds.

But of course, since the IFSG welcomes all approaches to Feng Shui I wasn’t surprised to read a different take on the issue. “The robin is the symbol of spring and of new growth," wrote another colleague, and whenever birds hit windows like that it’s the universe trying to get the attention of the people in the home." Another colleague suggested that the message from the birds was to ask where you're resisting growth in your life or in the affected bagua area. And another added that death of a bird or any animal is about transformation for the observer. "It seems like the people in the bird-bombed house are resisting moving forward in some area of their life."

OK, now I'm listening.

And leave it to the always-grounded Mia to come back with another take on my bouncing birds. “I don't mean to rain on the metaphysical parade with this explanation," she added, "but sometimes there is meaning in things and sometimes birds just hit windows. And if it was a big flock who tend to stick together, if one goes down, they all follow."

Last summer a hummingbird flew into our garage. It perched on the bright red and blue cross-country skis hanging on the wall (I never knew hummingbirds could stop flapping their wings long enough to perch but it did), and then after a minute it flew up into the skylight. When it couldn’t get outside that way it flew back to the skis. The poor little thing did this four times as we gently tried to use a broom to aim it toward the open door. Finally, it got the message, flew out the door, and then went straight up like a rocket until it disappeared into the stratosphere.

So, okay, maybe I'm the one with the bird issue after all. My Feng Shui colleagues advise putting decals on the windows. My granddaughter Izzy says I should put out a warning sign for the birds. Maybe it's time for my friend and I to sit down with a bottle of Grey Goose to toast our bouncing birds and try to figure out just what transformation we're resisting.