As we headed out for our morning dunk in the elephant pool I saw a small lump covered with ants. My immediate thought? Dog poop. But my dog is at my mom's. Upon closer inspection a baby bird was revealed. I quickly buried it in the dirt under the bbq, trying not make jokes about how some birds end up under the grill, some on it.
I suppose I use humor to diffuse the sad truth of how life sometimes works out. How many of us want to follow our passions but, like the baby bird, we're afraid our flying will land us on the ground with a resounding thud?
I encourage all of you to take a chance and leave the comfort of your nest. Sure, the outcome could turn out lousy, but the thrill of flight is worth it.
And speaking of being airborne, and death, my husband is flying out to Utah today. Before boarding, he got the call from the CIO that his first boss, Ed, died in his sleep. Rex had just spoken to Ed last night as they planned where they would meet for dinner tonight. Ed was a partier, a drinker, with an ex-wife in L.A., conquests in London, and a girlfriend in Costa Rica. He left behind boats, real estate and family. He was 40.
I don't know what to think sometimes. That's why, like the little bird, I close my eyes and jump. Or get pushed out there by family and friends.
Whatever works.
Happy Tuesday.
1 comment:
Sorry to hear about Ed. In contrast to how you described his life on Earth, may his nest be soft and warm, his feathers fluffy and his branch steady in the afterlife. Your analogy of the bird is tweet. I mean sweet.
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