Birds Do It Too

Creating world peace is a demonstration of something deeper-it's about our power to consciously create our lives, communities and world as art. We already use that power,  but mostly unconsciously, and the result is our lives, and the world, exactly as they are today.

There I stood on a dry basalt island with high cliffs on all sides off the west coast of California. The trees on the island are sad-looking: low, stubby and scrubby, brown drooping hair-like dead leaves after a brief burst of yellow flowers in March. Anacapa Island is populated with Western Gulls, who nest all over the island, whitening the cliffs with their guano. The gulls nest on the ground because there are no foxes or other wily creatures to eat the eggs and the chicks. Here the high cliffs, lack of water, and remoteness make it inhospitable to foxes. Despite a few indifferent pelicans and some tiny lizards, the Western Gulls are dominant.

Western Gulls are large birds, snowy white on top and gray underneath, with orange feet. They have long, strong orange beaks with a sharp hook and a red spot.

Evolution, or God, gave the Western Gulls a game to play, called the Day Game. They play it during the day in the mating season, which lasts from May to August. If you are a Western Gull, you play the Day Game are as follows:

1.      Find a piece of territory of a few square meters. Defend it from other Western Gulls.

2.      Hatch your chicks on the territory. Abuse your chicks by pecking their tails to make sure they stay on the territory.

3.      Kill any neighbor chicks who wander onto your territory by biting their necks and ripping their guts out with your beak.

I watched the Western Gulls play the Day Game all day long. They vigilantly defend their small territories, abuse their chicks to keep them from wandering, and kill any neighbor chicks who cross into the territory. In addition to the ubiquitous guano, Anacapa Island is littered with broken-necked disemboweled corpses of Western Gull chicks. Gulls win the Day Game by raising their chicks to maturity.

Vividly imagine you are a Western Gull on this island. You can't fly! If  you fly away from your territory, the other Western Gulls will take your territory and kill your kids. All day, you vigilantly defend your little patch from other Western Gulls; you pay close attention to your one, two or three chicks to make sure they don't wander, and if they seem to be wandering, or even just thinking about wandering, then you peck their tails with your sharp beak to make sure they know you love them and want them safe. You watch out for other Western Gulls who try to take your territory, and you warn them off with spread wings, ruffled feathers, and loud squawks. If a neighbor chick comes onto your territory, you attack it by biting its neck, trying to kill it. If you do kill it, you rip its guts out with your sharp beak.

You can imagine a wretched, stress-filled daytime existence. You are at the mercy of the rules of the Day Game. If you don't play it right, then you don't reproduce-so you are the product of generations of Western Gulls who have successfully played the Day Game. You have all the instincts and equipment, tendencies and habits-you are born knowing how to play the Day Game. This vacuum of history pulls, or "sucks", the Day Game into existence.

To say "the Day Game sucks" isn't just to say it is a poor quality experience. There is more to the word "sucks". The Day Game puts the Western Gulls at the mercy of external rules and their inherited system. It sucks them down to a small territory that keeps them from flying. The gulls don't know any other way to be than play the Day Game. They are empty and powerless, a vacuum without recourse or creativity.

But I saw the Western Gulls also play another game at night. At dusk, all the baby chicks go to sleep, curled up safely in the middle of the small territories. The adult gulls no longer have to abuse them for their safety, nor fear that neighbor kids will wander into the territory. At night, the gulls can forget about the Day Game.

In the gathering twilight I saw them gather calmly on the western end of Anacapa Island, clustered shoulder to shoulder facing into the brisk north wind. The gulls no longer squawk and fuss, they simply gaze meditatively toward the north, into the blowing wind. Goosebumps that have nothing to do with the cool wind rose on my neck and arms the first time I saw this: gulls playing the Night Game.

They walk slowly toward the northern cliff with its steady, powerful updraft. In a leisurely way the forward rank of gulls hops off the cliff into the updraft, soaring effortlessly upward, steering here and there, looking around tranquilly. The next rank, and the next, follow, until the dusky ocean sky is dotted with hundreds of soaring gulls. Now they can use their powers of flight. Now they are no longer bound by the nefarious rules of the Day Game. The Night Game is played for the pure pleasure of living, for the inherent bliss of existence itself.

The Night Game blows. The Night Game presses forth from within the gulls, springing forth from their nature. The Night Game is the art of the gull. It blows outward from the heart of the gull as a creative force.

Western Gulls appear trapped in the Day Game. They do not have the capacity to consciously choose another way to allocate scarce resources of land and food, like limiting themselves to two eggs per couple, or hereditary territories with non-violent laws for settling disputes. They are at the mercy of unconscious evolution; evolution which simply finds expedient means-in this case, allowing for the survival of those gulls willing to play the Day Game, and not for the others. Being born a Western Gull on Anacapa Island means being inevitably born into the Day Game. Evolution takes place over successive generations, and not within the lifetime of the gull.

In humans, evolution now takes place within the lifetime of an individual. Over our lifetimes, we influence each other's behavior, we form new instincts and experiment with new ways of being. I think most readers can agree that our species has reached a point at which our evolution must become more conscious than unconscious. The human Day Game threatens everything, as the power of our conscious evolution, which appears as technology, amplifies the damage of the Day Game we play.

The human Day Game isn't anybody's fault. We all inherited our Day Game. The Day Game is just the way things are. The instincts of the Day Game come pre-installed. But it sucks. We are powerless playing the Day Game. To the extent we play the Day Game, we are neurotic, stressed, unhappy and unhealthy. The Day Game is a waste of life.

Our Night Game is powerful Here is the human Night Game of creation:

1.      From this moment-no past, no barriers, no problems--envision a possible future you wish to create.

2.      Inspire your vision with specifics: when, how much, how many, who.

3.      Inspire that future with emotion: what feeling, experience, relief, benefit, joy, fun, communion, freedom does that future create for you and for others?

4.      When you feel complete and satisfied with your vision, set that future free of how it needs to happen.

5.      Act in the moment in alignment with that future already existing now as your vision. Tell people about it, take action, allow serendipity, trust the Night Game.

The Day Game is just pretend-it only has power because we all play it. The Day Game co-opts and corrupts our Night Game power. The Day Game is not an obstacle. It is only the medium of the art of the Night Game.

The Day Game sucks-we are helpless victims. The Night Game blows-we are creative artists of our own being. Let's create the future together. Let's play the Night Game.