7The Bird Gate

The point is to declare a gate for one day and watch what comes through it — because you set the filter and something still arrives that you did not send for.

You need something to write on that you can carry all day, and a way to destroy it at the end.

iDeclaring it. In the morning, say out loud that for this one day birdsong is a gate. A gate not declared is only weather.

Then name one thing to send for: specific, findable, ordinary. A particular coin, a red car, a particular word, a heron. Not "abundance." Not "a sign." A thing you could point at. Say that one aloud too, and decide it will appear. Hold the image of it for a few minutes — the profile on the coin, the color of the car, the shape of the bird.

iiThrough the day. At every bird — the gull over the parking garage, the starlings in the sign, something small and unseen in the hedge — stop for one breath and write four things: what you were just thinking; what is here now; what it points at outside you; what it points at inside you. Four words each. If you are driving or in a meeting, write them at the next chance.

Twelve entries is a full day. When you have twelve, the gate has done its work — stop writing and go on with the day without it. Twelve is a ceiling and not a quota. If the day ends at four entries, the gate still closes at dark.

Write down every time the sent-for thing turns up, and write it down if it does not. A blank line is a result.

Do not interpret anything during the day. Collect.

Whatever the thinker thinks, the prover proves. The red car was always there. Today you counted it.

iiiAt dark. Read the whole day at once. Copy out anything you would not have predicted that morning — including anything that arrived which you had not sent for. Record the date and what you copied out. Then burn or delete the notes, and say out loud that the day is over and the gate is closed.