“What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stop and stare”.
The Brave Flock
Chickens might just be some of the bravest creatures on two legs. I have heard them stroll by KFC and (I swear) cackle in loud derision. I have seen them nonchalantly peck at crumbs by the local takeout here called Chicken Chicken. It made me want to yell out a warning, “Hey girls, scram! That could be your pal on someone’s plate in there.”
When I first arrived on the island, I was both surprised and amused by all the chickens wandering around, doing their thing. The locals mostly ignored them, wrapped up in their routines. It makes me wonder how much we miss when we fall into habit. Perhaps we should consider slowing down, opening ourselves beyond our routines, and tasting the freshness of each moment, as the mindfulness movement advises.
My Brave Flock
I recall a moment, many years ago, when I walked into our young twins’ bedroom and discovered they had emptied their drawers onto the carpet. They were wearing some of its content on their heads. The room was an absolute mess. Was I angry? Nope. I was in the moment, laughing because it was so delightfully bizarre.
There were many bizarre moments when we were raising our six children. Luckily, I had the sense to write them down so I could savor them twice, for time flies and memories fade, and the things our children do and say are both crazy and precious enough to keep forever. These treasures became the foundation of my book, Sixteen Chickens on a Trampoline. Chickens have somehow pecked their way through my life.
Nature Calls
As I grow older, the dizzying heights of my twenties and thirties are now a downhill course, and as such, time seems to pick up speed. I don’t want to go so fast that I miss those crazy chickens on the beach, dodging tourists as they search for a crumb. After twenty-odd years of raising a family, I’ve been able to put on the breaks and savor the moment, mainly because parts are wearing out, and I can’t go as fast as I once did.
These days, I tend to rest my spirit in nature. I do miss the chuckles of family life, but I can still find humor in my surroundings. The other day, in a silly mood, I decided that a spiritual leader for me would be the rooster – my imam at the top of the big green rubbish bin calling me to prayer. I just prayed I might slow down enough to get the message.