Alright, you can thank chickens for the inspiration for this post.
I am serious.
I am about to write an analogy that would make any professional public speaker proud. And it's all because of... chickens. There. I admitted it.
Chickens are very, VERY simple animals. They aren't that bright. I mean, have you ever observed chickens? They kind of just... exist. Not that they aren't helpful, they produce eggs, eats insects, and provide chicken nuggets. But a chicken's life is very mundane. They wander around, pecking at the ground (and occasionally, each other,) they eat and drink and lay eggs and that's about it. It's a boring life, certainly, but for a chicken, it suffices.
(I can't believe I'm writing about chickens...)
Anyways, I went out to feed the chickens the other day. And there they were, just kind of bumbling around, looking for all the world like they were the most bored animals on the face of the planet. That is, they did look bored. Until I walked up. Suddenly, they all became one giant mass of wings, beaks, and feathers as they crowded by the door, clucking like there was no tomorrow.
I guess they were hungry...
Now, let me explain something to you. A mass of chickens, clucking and pecking and staring at the scoop of food in your hand like it's the Holy Grail can be very intimidating. At the very least, the moment you step into the pen they will flock around your feet and try to consume them until your pour the food out. They might leave a present on your foot. It's not an ideal situation. To avoid this, I opened the door and flung the food into the pen, throwing accuracy to the wind. They got the food. I kept my feet. I would say that it was a pretty good trade off. However, they don't receive one scoop of food, but four. FOUR. And flinging the food into the pen haphazardly really only works once. You have to spread it out so they don't kill each other. And I really didn't want to be surrounded by a bunch of bloodthirsty chickens. (Erm... bloodthirsty may be a bit of an exaggeration...) But here's the thing about chickens. They. Are. Stupid. Absolute idiots. And it's not really their fault... but that doesn't change the fact that they're completely brainless.
So really, all you have to do to avoid being swarmed by chickens is outsmart them. It's not that hard.
The chickens were completely fascinated by the food already in their, fighting over the small portion. I left the door open, quietly went for another scoop, and tiptoed into the coop, pouring out the second scoop in the corner. A few chickens noticed and ran over, but I was out of their way by the time they started viciously pecking the feed. I repeated this two more times, and closed the door on my way out. Chickens, fed. Mission accomplished.
Right now, if you have made it thus far, you are staring at your computer screen with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. The thoughts running through your head probably sound something like this: "...what? Why do I need to know this? Why do I care? ...I must be really bored..."
I have a point, I swear. I wouldn't drone on about chickens for no reason.
You see, I was able to leave the door of the coop open and feed the chickens without being swarmed because I knew that they wouldn't leave the food placed in front of them. If they happened to be one of the few that noticed the new pile of food, they would run over there, but they wouldn't follow me. And they wouldn't leave.
They were so wrapped up in the food in front of them that they didn't even stop to think that by following me (the one who brought them food,) they could find the source of the food and get more than they ever imagined. They didn't think about going out the open door and seeing what they could find. (You know... not that chickens think...)
And so, I knew that I could leave the door open while feeding them and not worry about them following me or leaving.
Then something struck me. We act like those stupid chickens sometimes.
Before you get offended, think about it. Actually think about it. Search your feelings, you know it to be true. (Okay. I couldn't resist the reference.)
We have so little ambition sometimes. We give up on our hopes and dreams because the pile of food in front of us is fine. It's not the best, and there are a million other chickens fighting us for it, but it's right in front of us. It's easy.
What became of our dreaming? Anyone who says that dreaming isn't productive because it's unrealistic is not realistic, but rather unimaginative. We give up on our dreams, on what's out there that might actually be better, because it isn't easy. Because it isn't realistic.
Tell me which is more fulfilling: a life spent chasing your dreams and reaching your goals, failing sometimes but always confident that you are going after what you love? Or a life lived in a rut, in which you give up on your dreams because they aren't realistic and spend your life doing what you hate?
I will take the first option, please.
The easy thing is almost never the right thing. If it is your dream to be an astronaut, why give up because it "isn't realistic"? That's an absolutely preposterous thing to say. I believe what you meant is that it isn't common for someone to be an astronaut. Of course it's realistic. We have astronauts, don't we?
The world will try to tell you not to chase after your dreams. They will tell you to accept a mundane life because that's what's normal. But if you do chase your dreams and fight for what you believe, doesn't that make it all the more fulfilling?
So, in the words of one of my favorite movies: "Go... live your dream." (Alright... it's Tangled. I'm sorry, but that movie is adorable.)
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