I house sit for a friend who lives in the country. I grew up with lots of animals, on what I call, fondly, the mini farm. Chickens, and lambs, and steers, and doggies, and kitties, and bunnies, and more. So any time I'm asked to house sit for the friends in the country, I relish my time there. It's so quiet and peaceful. The soothing lull of the wind through the trees and the occasional dog bark in the distance are reminiscent. Sometimes I sit with my feet in their pool, staring at the sky, making pictures in the clouds... like I did as a child. I start to feel very melancholy. There is something freeing about acreage, and animals, and old, big trees...
Someday I wanna write about the lessons I learned growing up country, but today I want to talk about one of the chickens at this house I sit on, er, for. Part of my daily duties includes feeding and watering the chickens, and collecting their lovely, imperfect brown eggs. There is no rooster. Just deliciously rich, dark yellow yolked, farm fresh eggs. It's just that this time I think the cute, chunky little black feathered chicken was confused. She sat on an egg for over three days. Did I mention there is no rooster? Bless her heart! Such persistence, and patience, all for something that just wasn't going to happen.
Everyday as I walked up to the coop, I saw her long butt feathers popping out from a hole in the top of the nesting box. It made me smile. "I think I can, I think I can!" But, it's hot, and I started thinking about the egg innards... cooking everyday... under little Blackie's butt in July heat... so I decided to stir her from the nest. It broke my heart, actually, as I gently pushed her from the egg with a long, skinny piece of lumber. She was tenacious. "I will not leave my post! I must protect my egg!" She held on. Such a fighter. And then, she couldn't hold on anymore. She looked back at me with eyes that said, "HOW DARE YOU!"
Moral of the story is, sometimes we hold on to something, hoping to hatch an egg, without thought or input... we just keep doing the same thing over and over again... but no egg is gonna hatch. And something or someone comes along and pushes you into a whole new world of discomfort, without your input or consent... But it turns out to the be the best thing for you, because you couldn't do it for yourself. And go figure, when you're out of your comfort zone is usually exactly where you hatch the most "eggs."
Take this little story for what it's worth. Certainly, I'm extrapolating quite a bit from a confused chicken. But I can relate to Blackie... the best times in my life have been when I was shoved, head first, and resisting with all my might, into a brand new routine/life/pattern.