Chicken Dreams: Letting go

…”How do I keep you from losing your way? Hope you come back like I did, one day. Love means letting go and this I know…”

I’m humming this song in little Dandelions ear as she sits in my hands purring. Dandelion has found her passion and she will not be talked out of it or be bullied into changing her mind.  Dandy, as she is affectionately known, wants to be a soccer mom.  She dreams in nesting boxes and tiny feet and wings.  She wants to nurture everyone who comes near her for practice and she also sits on anything which is round also to practice the art of hatching her chicks to be.

Chicken moms, much like octopus moms will refuse food and water for up to twenty one days while they hatch their babies.  Some will die in order to bring life into this world which is especially sad in the case of factory farm moms.

Dandy has no such worries.  When she wishes to be a mom we will bring her food and water dutifully and when her chicks are born we will name them, love them and be delighted to watch them grow up with only first world problems like if their coop is as nice as the neighboring chickens.

She has however suffered some mocking by her coop mates as she practices on treat balls and play balls.  She’s been known to ruin a perfectly good game of chicken soccer but jumping on the treat ball and refusing to leave no matter how much the others squawk. They may find her ambition annoying but once you’ve found your purpose and passion, well that’s it, you can’t be convinced to change your mind.

It’s hard thinking my littlest one is growing up and wanting a family of her own.  I know this process and it really never gets easier.  It’s beautiful and the cycle of life but selfishly I wish my babies would stay babies and stay interested in me.

So once again I must let go.  Dandy has found her “chicken”. That’s what we call it around here when someone finds the one thing which really fuels them. Chickens fuel me and apparently they do the same for little Dandy, so much so that she wants one of her own.

Rosey has not found her passion yet.  Maybe she will find it or it will find her or maybe she’ll flounder around without it until she realizes that living her life is her purpose and that every butterfly she watches and every blade of grass she ponders as it reflects the light within is her real life. Perhaps the work of her soul will be in breathing and standing and sometimes flying and landing next to her best friend, ruffling her feathers and clucking out loud with delight.

Purpose can be like Dandy’s but it can also be just living and enjoying your life like Rosey and Star Moon. Being happy is the stuff of highest purpose and self.  Most of us feel we must do certain things, cross certain milestones too but sometimes just letting the sun warm your feathers and stretching your toes and preening between them with absolute satisfaction can be a high art. Joy can be passion.

Singing to Dandy cross legged in the grass as Rosey prances near me is everything and it’s nothing.  It’s the nothing part of it that is so important to this flock of odd ball chickens under a western sun in the corner of nowhere.

One day this scene will change and I will change with it but today we are here, not there and we are joyfully bound by nothing and that is true perfection.


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