Efficiency is not the point

Our balcony faces an open grassy surface with a view to a large tree and the hint of a school playground. Somewhere near, there is a church, with frequent and loud bell-ringing, which has become my anchor for returning to myself.

An hourly reminder: yes, I am breathing, in and out.

I sit on our balcony often. In the morning, with my first cup of coffee as I arrive to myself, and at night with my knitting, as I wait for my brain to let go of the various conversations of the day. The swallows are a constant then, and I love them. Sometimes, if I sit on the balcony long enough, the swallows are joined by bats, engaging in the same activity — feeding on insects in flight. I love the bats too.

If you read up about swallows, a key characteristic is in fact their ability to hunt insects on the go very efficiently. Their flight patterns are distinctive, with optimum maneuverability, and using much less energy doing it than other similarly sized birds. Bats, on the other hand, fly much less elegantly, and use much more fuel.

Efficiency, as it happens is not an indicator of joy and not even always a net positive. Efficiency in one can lead to inefficiency in the whole. What is that saying? If you want to go fast, go alone, but if you want to go far, go together.

I think of this as I watch the swallows and the bats interact, doing their thing, letting me know by their flight patterns if I should expect rain. They don’t care if they are efficient or not, they just are. This is the presence I crave. Breathing in, I know I am breathing in. Breathing out, I know I am breathing out.