The mind with utmost sincerity

By Kim Song-rhei

A magpie is known to be an architect. It builds its nest on the highest knotty limbs of a tall tree as part of keeping away from natural enemies. Twigs are the main construction materials used. The nests are easily found in downtown areas.

But have you ever taken a look into the interior of the nest? I have had several experiences. The latest nest among others is one I happened to find in a park while I was walking for exercise one Sunday.

It was placed on the branches of a fallen tree, which was probably struck by a typhoon called Kompasu in 2010.

The outward walls of the nest were partially damaged by something with the lapse of time, but the floor was almost intact. The remaining structure evinced how the bird had made great efforts at building the love nest.

If you have never experienced seeing the inner structure of a nest, I think you would be quite amazed at its materials.

The bird puts potter’s clay on the inside of its nest, and then spreads it with very tender fragments, such as feathers and litters on the floor.

The inside floor will remind you of a room paved with mud. And at the same time, it is similar to a clayware made by a potter with an artisan spirit.

It is probable that even human architects could marvel at the extraordinary talent of the bird’s construction craft.

I think that the inside structure of the nest seems to be far more comfortable than a warm and cozy little room built for human habitation.

It is not only as good as a hot floored room built by humans, but also solid enough to withstand the test of nature such as a violent wind and rain.

In short, the nest, I think, leaves nothing to be desired in terms of architectural excellence.

How could the bird build such a careful and perfect nest for itself? This question compels me to think of a dialectic answer, an answer that could be expressed by philosophical speculation reflecting upon its nature and characteristic.

It appears to me that in this context, I, myself, am in the way that I question the nature of inductive reasoning.

It may sound paradoxical, but the bird uses neither the craft nor the ability to build her nest.

This is because the bird, like other animals, does not receive any kind of education about building a nest from its parents. It simply builds its roost with her utmost sincerity following its primitive instinct.

Making every effort to do something in one’s life, I think, is more valuable than any kind of skill or knowledge. Paradoxically speaking, it is just the thing as dear as life itself.

Then, when do you think the mind with the utmost sincerity happen? I think that it springs up when we apply the mind to do something with a pure mind, thinking that it will be completely good for others ― the objects of one’s love.

It is quite different from doing something only for oneself with a selfish way of thinking.

The magpie builds the love nest only for the sake of its descendants. In a practical manner, the bird doesn’t settle in the nest except when building the nest or sitting on eggs.

In my observation, the bird never flies home to roost in the evening even in the cold winter season. It goes to sleep when the night falls and perches on a twig until the day breaks.

Throwing one’s whole spirit into one’s work, in a sense, implies taking care of others who are loved by oneself. It is just like parental affection for their children.

The writer lives in Gwanak-gu, Seoul. His email address is kwanak11@hanmail.net.