Respect the Pigeons

I try to be kind to all animals, but as a New Yorker, I’m especially kind to pigeons, because I know their history. We humans once domesticated these birds, trained them to live with us, and used them to carry our messages. Then we abandoned them when new technologies came. So when a pigeon approaches, remember: it was trained to trust you.

This is a good metaphor for karma. When certain experiences arise, we think, “Yuck, go away! Why are you bothering me?” without realizing that they may stem from habits or actions we ourselves set in motion long ago. Maybe we’re annoyed that others won’t check in on us, but we haven’t checked in on them. Maybe we feel besieged by financial or health struggles, but we haven’t built healthy habits. And so we mistake consequences for punishment.

Karma isn’t personal, though. It doesn’t mean that everything that happens is your fault or that you deserve to suffer. Karma is simply the lessons you need to learn in order to be at peace. It’s more like a patient teacher than a sadistic judge. And when the lesson isn’t clear, which is often the case, you can safely assume that part of it is kindness. As with pigeons, you can meet whatever comes with courtesy and grace.

But you can set boundaries too. You don’t have to open your life to every form of chaos. It’s enough to meet what comes with respect. If a coworker is rude, instead of lashing back or dwelling on their negativity, you can calmly say, “I won’t be spoken to that way,” and step away. If chronic pain arises, you can honor your body’s signal for rest without letting the illness define or degrade you.

When I was a kid, my neighbor would throw open her window and scatter birdseed in her kitchen. Hundreds of pigeons would swarm inside her apartment. I later learned she was a concentration camp survivor. Perhaps she saw herself in the deprived and outcast birds. We all carry something deprived and outcast that seeks its reflection in others. But you don’t need to take in the whole history of misery. Respect the pigeons. Feed them, even. But know when it’s time to close the window.

Nachiket Sharma, "The Birdman of Old Delhi" (2024)