Thoughts on what we really love

I'm a big fan of the poet Rumi ~ I just read somewhere that he is currently a big favorite all over the U.S.  And here I thought I was one of the chosen few reading this ancient mystic!  Well, the more the merrier, because his writings can go very deep if you allow him in.  One of his many phrases that I've cut out and pasted in my office follows:

Let yourself be silently drawn
by the stronger pull
of what you really love.
Rumi

In my life, this gathering of words has prodded, nibbled at me, nudged me to take steps to learn more.  OK, what do I really love?  Well, many things, but what keeps coming to the top?  Birds, of course. A caveat- I don't think this is primarily about people - of course I love my husband, my close friends.  This is sort of another dimension.  At least it is for me.
It was (and still is, in some ways)  hard to find time to bird.  Work, shopping, it's too dark, it's too early, I want to read this book....but Rumi is there, quietly  asking if this is what I really love.  And, each and every time I'm out birding, I feel like I'm in just the absolutely right place in my life.  I guess that was the 'letting myself be silently drawn' part.  The 'silently' is interesting.  I take that to mean that this is a discussion with the self, no need to process it over coffee or complain about how there is not enough time in life.  There actually is time!  This is an ongoing revelation to me.  But when I manage to NOT be tied to the clock, things get done anyway - somehow.
There's no question for me about the stronger pull - that's birds.  As I sit in my window now, one eye is one the hummer feeder where the over-wintering Anna's hummingbird has been stopping.  A few late goldfinches are at the Nyjer seed feeder, and of course, all those great ground feeders come and go.  While on my errands today, I'll stop on the bay side at the boat basin and see who the storms have blown in.  At the very least, I'll check out the resident flock of turnstones who live among the boats and oyster shell stacks. Their lovely dun and black colors blend so well that if they don't move, they disappear into the oyster shells.
Maybe the message for me, at least, is to make birding (what I really love) part of my everyday life.  The away trips are so great, going to a place and seeing new, mysterious species, or re-visiting known birds and learning them better.  But - just now, the mallard pair is cautiously pulling up from the pond onto the grass - hoping for a grain handout.  He's murmuring quietly to her and looking around thoroughly before declaring it safe to proceed. They are the first of a big flock that will spend the winter with us.  They shelter across the pond during high winds, heads tucked, riding it out.  During a morning lull, they advance on our side yard, full of talk about the storm.
So this is still, and will be, a work in process.  It's part of that Zen thing, a journey.  But now when I read Rumi's exhortation, I smile and agree - with joy.

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you
don't go back to sleep.
Rumi