June 24, 2009

The Joy Of Life
A new life is born. The chick cracks through the egg and waddles out into the world. He is ugly, wet; the fuzz is slickered down next to a tiny red body. In a short time the furry hair emerges spring yellow and bright. He is adorable and cuddly. There are stages of gangly growth as he emerges with feathers. Then he appears with red and black proud plumage to strut his stuff as he cock-ado- da- doles.

All of life is a metaphor of struggle to find the final passion of proud strutting your stuff. Some give up the search, others continue until they have found who they are; and become what they have always wanted to be. The problem often is, we don’t know what we want to accomplish. Other people define our life for us which frequently sends us in the opposite direction of where we want to go. Therefore, we become lost. It’s similar to the game where they spin you blindfolded and you have to find the correct direction.

As a child, my father convinced me I wanted to be an actress. He gave my sister and I elocution and tap dance lessons. My sister and I would rather have had ballet lessons, but that was not in vogue at the time. Eventually, I found I detested learning script lines. Then, as an adult, the culture encouraged me to live the traditional role of being the housewife while the man provided the income. Only then did I start pecking my way out of my shell. Advanced college courses brought me to the fluffy stage. Following a career of my choosing was the growth period. Yet the proud plumage had not yet covered me. Then one day I realized that the dream to float dancing over the ballroom floor, was the passion that I had been missing. Slowly the exotic plumage of completion is booming forth. I am, for the first time in my life, joyfully and willingly feeling encouraged to want to follow a diet, not just for my health, but for the beauty of the entire spectacle so that I can gracefully take all the manoeuvres of the Tango, the Waltz and the Fox Trot.

I hope that everyone can discover what really moves them to enjoy life and discover their beautiful plumage.

What a chorus of cock-ado- da- doles that would be!