Of Chickens and Birthdays

I'm in the mood for a chicken story...

Once upon a time there was a little chicken. Well, actually she was a big Chicken, in more ways than one. So we'll call her Chicken Big (or CB) instead of Chicken Little.

CB had certain dreams when she was still a chick, but when she grew up she found that those dreams had to take the back burner. But she couldn't complain. There wasn't any reason to, not really. Oh no, CB had a good life. There were just these normal, everyday annoyances that every chicken encountered, but which really didn't matter when one looked at the big picture. She had her hen-house, the little chicks and the rooster were all pecking away happily, she had her feathers, none of them had avian flu. She was okay in the hen-house, doing her chicken-scratches on the soil, liking them sometimes, hating them most of the time. But she was often surprised to find that lots of other chickens liked her scratchings.

Then one day, the chicken crossed the road (we're still talking about CB here).

It wasn't so much what she found at the other side of the road that thrilled her (though that was a big part of it: new sights, new sounds, new chickens!). No, it was the experience of crossing the road, of finding her way to her destination all by herself, of trying to communicate with the odd-sounding chickens (who sounded like ducks), of discovering how the chickens across the road did stuff. And the experience remained with her...and she wanted to do it again: cross a different road, see how creatures on the other side of those roads lived--the lions, the flamingoes, the tigers, the baboons, even the frogs (though she shudders slightly at that last one). The dreams that lay dormant in her little chicken brain and in her little chicken heart were awakened, and they consumed her.

The thing is, she realizes that crossing those roads will not be easy for her by any stretch of the imagination. She does not have a chicken trust fund, and she rarely takes part in the chicken lottery (which she has a gazillion-in-one chance of winning, anyway). The only way she sees she can cross those roads is through her chicken-scratchings. She was gratified when she found out that a couple of hen-houses were interested in her scratchings.

Gratified? She was ecstatic! After all, these hen-houses could very well pave the way for her ticket across the road. So what's holding her back from the potential realization of her chicken dreams?

CB is afraid.

Afraid that her scratchings are not up to par. Afraid that her scratchings will be ridiculed by other chickens who have crossed so many roads before her. Simply put, she's afraid that her scratchings are not good enough, and that they never will be. Because other chickens do it so much better, and they have the right to crow about it.

CB is trying to gather her courage, but she finds it so damn hard. She is paralyzed by fear.

Hardly surprising. After all, she's chicken.

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Now, on to a more cheerful thought.


The guy taking forty winks in the pic is a dear friend of mine, and he's celebrating his birthday today (well, in a few more hours in his part of the world). Happy, happy birthday, Victor! He's not only an exemplary boss business partner; he's a good friend, too. I'm thankful for the crossing of our paths because I've learned a lot from him (continuing to learn, actually) and because he always has encouraging words for me--they might be buried underneath a ton of wisecracks, but I'm grateful for them nevertheless. I sure hope he doesn't ever rue the day he decided to ask me to work with him (though I have a sneaking suspicion that the smartass was drunk when he made the offer).

So CHEERS, Victor, my dear and sweet friend! You know that I'm wishing you not only the best of everything, but that you get them in overwhelming amounts. Have a hiccup-free birthday! I'm also wishing you oodles of fun, the fulfillment of all of your dreams, and the patience to reach them. Oh, and lots more moolah, of course, smarty. :-)