Big Bird Wisdom
Last week I confessed that my perspective has changed over time, and I’ve realized that, rather than making me a hypocrite, this evolution has served to make me better.
Today I’m going to share one of my grown-up changes…
One of the most impactful lessons I’ve learned, I learned from Big Bird.
Yes, Big Bird.
I chose to be a stay-at-home mom with our first-born. We had moved to a new state when baby was 1 month old, and altogether owned 1 vehicle. As a shut-in (😅) I spent a good deal of time curating the ideal kid-friendly playlist on Pandora, including Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns N’ Roses, Rapper’s Delight by The Sugarhill Gang, Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, and all the Silly Songs with Larry from Veggie Tales.
And as Pandora does, songs occasionally played that that the platform recommended.
This wisdom came from one of those songs.
It begins with a parade call from a flute and muted trumpet, followed by a kettledrum bong announcing the Big Bird,
(v1)
I’ve a special secret children ought to know
It’s about the little mistakes you make as you begin to grow
If you make a mistake you shouldn’t start to cry
Mistakes are not so bad, and here is why(chorus)
Oh, everyone makes mistakes, oh yes, they do!
Your sister and your brother and your dad and mother, too
Big people, small people — matter of fact, all people!
Everyone makes mistakes so why can’t you?
When I tell you that this song made me weep like I was meeting Jesus…
I wept.
I vividly remember where I was when Big Bird sweetly sang to my soul for the first time as an adult.
(I had probably heard this song before. Every kid in the 1980’s grew up on Sesame Street!)
Hearing these lyrics as a 30+ year old adulting human, barely figuring it out on my own, while trying to be married and be a mom for the first time, hours away from anyone we remotely knew, shut-in and in a new community…
Big Bird’s wisdom became a powerfully cathartic experience.
I took on a lot of expectations for myself at a very early age. Our family dynamics were not typical, and even though I was the youngest, I had very early obligations that made me grow up a lot faster than my peers. I was taught to set the highest standards for myself, and my expectations overflowed to everyone I engaged with or even simply observed.
But these standards were not born out of self-care.
These standards were poured out and alone sated by pride.
Leading with pride is like a drinking a five-gallon bottle of bleach one diluted drop at a time. You look clean and you smell clean, so don’t notice it’s consuming you from the inside out.
But in one emotional instant, considering the wise words of a big yellow muppet, everything changed.
I thought about my sweet child. I thought about the childhood I endured. I thought about the kind of childhood I wanted to give her. I thought about how much hurt I held onto when people I’d let in didn’t live up to my expectations. I thought about how different I could have been, how much freedom I could have known if I had taken Big Bird’s words to heart…
And it broke me.
I listened to that song at least 2 dozen times, back-to-back. I listened to it until I could sing it, and I sang it until the lyrics were seared in my soul.
>>> Everyone makes mistakes, so why can’t you?
Those words became my anthem.
When I got angry with myself for not crossing off every item on my To Do list, or a meal turning out not quite as good as I imagined, or oversleeping, or reacting to something before thinking it out, an internal part of me sang,
“Everyone makes mistakes, so why can’t you?”
I’d smile at the dumb Big Bird song that somehow broke and empowered me. And I’d take a deep breath and give myself grace.
And here’s the crazy thing:
I embraced this song for me. But Big Bird was not content to only salve my wounds.
Oh no.
Big Bird had big plans.
All the sudden, when my husband didn’t flatten the toothpaste tube, or scoop peanut butter from around the edges of the can, or anything else that made me angry… Or our little bit wanted to drum on the book rather than listen to the story, or refused to eat her food, or anything else frustrated me… Or a friend forgot to call, or we disagreed about a parenting technique, or anything else that made me sad… an internal part of me would sing,
“Oh, everyone makes mistakes, oh yes, they do!”
And I’d smile at the dumb Big Bird song that somehow still broke and empowered me. And I’d take a deep breath and extend grace.
That was not who I was for 30+ years of my life!
Big Bird’s wisdom changed me.
We can all change, my friends. Even after decades of not knowing or doing better, we can do small things to make big impacts on the rest of our lives. Dumb songs sang by big yellow muppets can empower us to be more gracious to ourselves and everyone we encounter.
And that can change the world.
If you’re anything like me, I hope you embrace this bit of Big Bird wisdom for yourself. There’s a freedom in it, and that freedom is worth the change.
(PS — In case you want to learn the song, here it is.)