There is a bird called the great-tailed grackle. If you’ve never heard one, imagine a car alarm or an elevator that’s stuck between floors. Something you can’t help but listen to, because it sounds like a warning will follow. Calling it a song feels generous.

It’s not the most beautiful bird, although its tail can be nearly as long as its body. About the size of a crow, it seems to be living its very best life at the resort I visited in Cancun. I saw pelicans, the magnificent frigatebird (the best name), and the social flycatcher, but I developed an unexpected appreciation for the grackle.

As far as I can tell, it spends its days eyeing abandoned pizza crusts by the pool, strutting confidently across walkways, and announcing its presence at six o’clock every morning with absolutely no concern for anyone else’s opinion.

It doesn’t seem to wonder, Why am I here? It doesn’t question whether it should take up space or whether another bird could do the “bird thing” better. It certainly isn’t asking itself whether screeching through open hallways at dawn is the right career move.

It just does. And, if I’m honest, I’m a little jealous.

How many times have I softened my voice, hidden a part of myself, or chosen not to create something because I was afraid of what someone else might think? How many opportunities have I missed because I wanted to avoid standing out?

The grackle, meanwhile, is everywhere.

The grackle refuses to go unnoticed, unlike the plain chachalaca, which my Merlin Bird ID app assured me was nearby. It isn’t trying to build a personal brand or curate an image. It simply inhabits the life it has been given.

As a therapist, I often encourage people to get out into nature. But lately I’ve wondered if that phrase unintentionally separates us from something we’re already part of. We don’t step into nature; we are a part of it. And it operates on a different set of rules than the ones we’ve contrived, rules that we might do well to consider as we go forward.

Yes, some qualities make humans different from any other species. We possess remarkable abilities for reflection, imagination, and meaning-making. Those are gifts.

But sometimes I think we confuse those gifts with an obligation to justify our existence every hour of every day. We feel pressure to optimize every moment, prove our worth, and ensure that everything we do is impressive, productive, or deeply meaningful.

The grackle reminds us there is another way.

Sometimes it is enough to just be, to use the abilities and voice you’ve been given, and to trust that your existence doesn’t require justification.

Be yourself. You never know who you’re inspiring in the process.

I’m making it a goal to be a little more like the great-tailed grackle.