Chicken Coop Manifesto

 So what teaching is it that you would need to explore in order to transform your distress into wisdom? Rob Brezsny

 I would like nothing more than to bypass that question, head on out to the little Hoop-Dee-Doo House and hang out with the chickens.  But, me being a true wonder and all...that is a great question worth pondering.

It is good to be as smart as a chicken and that may not sound like the ultimate goal for any sky-high thinker but! the Big Fish and I have contended that maybe a good part of the population isn't...  so- we kind of look to the poultry for common sense...

Similarities I have observed between the two subjects-

 People vs. Chickens

Pecking Order

Pretty much the same, but people pretend to be mannerly when deep inside they're seething-"Hey bud!  I was here first..." - we should peck back sometimes.

Laying eggs

 *kind of, sort of- you know- like how we really get puffed up and clucky when we hatch a new idea.  

. 

Making sure Basic Needs are met- water, feed, shelter, safety in numbers, etc.

  (of course not all people score well here...just saying.)

Communication

Talk, talk, cluck, cluck- thing is, chickens are actually listening to one another better- I observe.  Doesn't take long for the slowest among them to catch on to the wisest and act accordingly.

Comfy spot/shelter

Hard to say here, more observation needed.  (As soon as I'm done with this all too-time-encompassing post, I'll research some more- from a comfy spot...)

Joyful pursuits (No great scientist will ever tell me that chickens don't know joy-a fly loose in coop to a chicken would be like me singing back up for Emmy Lou Harris, joy, joy, joy!!) 

OK, keep trying to follow me here...sure, none of the above can be provided by a chicken- we as their keepers bring much of it about, but after the four walls and a roof, basic stuff is provided- the chickens do the rest, impeccably I might add...hope I didn't lose you with that one...there's more-

Should a shadow appear over their yard, in they go to safety- but only after one of the smarter pluckier ones squawks out an alarm. 

If the feed/water dish should run dry, they don't stand around worrying- they get right to work on scratching and picking up every little thing they might have missed in the ever bustling scamper for anything yummy.

I have also observed that a chicken never feels sorry for itself, even if it loses it's place in the order.  They simply take a licking and keep on keeping on...eventually, they learn to stand up for themselves and struggle mightily to proceed to the top of the order again.

But every now and then, one of those silly sometimes not as smart as your average chicken chickens- surprises me. 

There is one little old gal out there who takes no crap off of anybody.(Including me!)  She never ceases and desists, never takes her eye off the prize she seeks and yes I suppose it might be said that if worse came to worse she would die for the good eggs she loyally sits upon.  And should a common enemy confront all of them- well, this little plucky soul would perish perhaps by fighting off the intruder, not just for her self or the eggs but the whole cockle doodling group.   I know this because if one of the group's inhabitants gets her feathers ruffled by me throwing the door open too quickly, thereby surprising the flightiest one- the brave, seemingly independent one charges me. 

The message given- Proceed with caution, or else!!!

The message taken-Geez, that chicken is doing something so unchicken-like it's freaking me out, she's so little and yet...so fearless!

Which leads me to wonder AND answer the question left hanging way up above there- 

The teaching, the base line lesson that might transform my distress into wisdom?  

Worry is just another way to not confront fear.  It absolutely changes nothing as my health, my head, my heart and my hope suffer.  It belittles all those aspects of me, it actually sickens my soul.  Believe me, I have only recently figured this out.  I have been ill.  

Really ill...high blood pressure.  Lethargy.  Hopelessness.  I can handle dreams being cancelled, thoughts being outgrown, love leaving and honest hostility but no hope AND bad health?!  Well, I wouldn't be a true wonder anymore, I'd be compost, pushing up daisies and that sort of thing.  Yikes.  It took some physical ills to come around to acknowledging not only are we what we eat, we are what we think.  We are what we feel.  We are weak if we say we are.  We are strong when we act accordingly.  And we are at our lowest when we allow  doubts to drown out all of who we are. 

 Luck has not been good as of late, challenges coming right, then left- over the wall and up through chimney...yet my stress response darn near nearly killed me.  And even though my little black hen didn't say all of that to me...in a way, she showed me how to handle the ups and downs a little better.

Conduct Befitting a Good Egg

The Chicken Coop Manifesto

Be tenacious, even when the going gets ugly.

  At worst, you'll lose a few feathers.

  At best- you'll ruffle a few.*

Be who you are- exactly.

(Not sure who you exactly are?  Turn off TV, radio, news,internet,people who vex your very soul,books,busy roads,etc...you will find out and grow more of who you were meant to be.  Might be a poet, might be a hero, might just be you.  A chicken is a chicken is a charming bird with character.)

Love everyone, even the assholes. *(see # 1)

**though consider the bottom line

Would you risk your life for just about any one?

Then, why not your grace too?!

Don't let the bastards get you down.

(And that may be your self in the telling...we are hardest on ourselves.  My little black hen struts her tiny stuff and the so-called cock of the walk* backs down sometimes.)

Stand your ground.

(You may not be first in line, ever.  But that doesn't mean you have to take any crap off the other chickens either. We are all a little chicken about some little big thing.)

Be Brilliant in your plumage.

(Dress to impress your self.  Fluff your feathers when you damn well feel like it.)

Question everything.

  (Including your self.  What motivates your actions? My chickens  put up a big fuss, like questioning...when the snow covers their hoop-house home, blocking the sun. ) 

Be kind when it is warranted and even, maybe...when it is not.

(A good broody hen will never leave the nest and will peck your eyes out given the opportunity- but a better chicken will step aside and let others lay eggs in her humble and warm nest...so that I might easily collect the eggs.)  These are my rules and this is how I see it.

  Take care of the children.

  (And if the brood watching the children needs instruction, do it.  Children, chicks are the only ones entitled to our little wise hen-ness direction.  That doesn't mean telling someone how to do it, it means taking opportunities that arise to teach for the benefit of the little ones. )

Those that do, succeed.

Those that don't- won't.  Nothing.  Ever.

(Success doesn't always come from an end result, sometimes- it is a minute by minute reaching further, risk-taking-small-time-step ongoing adventure. Like a little chick sticking it's head through the chicken wire and grabbing up the fattest bugs.)

Do not take good health for granted.

(What a gift breath is.  What a joy swallowing is.  What a blessing upon blessings sight,taste,hearing,touch,feeling is. When a chicken is in moult, she seeks shelter more often than not and takes the time to let her health glow again.)

Life is a blast.

(Every time I open the hoop house door, there stands the little black hen- ready to take a gust of wind or a shower of snow.)  

Seek shelter when shadows appear, but when they have gone- come out into the sun and

 Crow about the light. 

* Verne

**Bottom line

(Anyone and I don't give a spit who you are...if you neglect, harm, exploit a child- all bets are off.  There should be no cover, no shelter for you- I do not care what brought you to your demise, do not harm children.  Period.

I will never be so enlightened to see a lesson in the suffering of children.

I have never said this on my blog but I strongly feel that some crimes should be handed over to Mother Nature, and there should be sharks and grizzlies involved.  And that goes for Military funeral protesters too. If you agree somewhat- write a damn letter.  Post it to your social networks.  Think freely and act accordingly.  Oh...and please listen to Mumford and Sons.   They are partially responsible for my lack of diplomacy.  Awake My Soul- say that aloud and often enough and true wonder is what you get.)

the other side

Does your chest ache? Are you hopeful? Will you still be farming? What, of you, remains at the farm no matter how far you travel from it?

My my, I am honored by the deepness of those questions, from questioners who know a bit of something of life I reckon.

Every inch of me aches...physically and otherwise. I'm no spring chicken ya know! And I've got this gene affliction, passed on by my pop who is by far thee most stubborn, infuriating soul I know- that causes me to be determined beyond the outer limits of the more timid (sane) souls. In my formidable years (all of 'em), I fell in love with the poetry of Walt Whitman. It was though a light went on and every word he wrote, every great and wonderful verse that flowed filled an emptiness in me.

"...Long enough have you timidly waded, holding a plank by the shore,Now I will you to be a bold swimmer..."
-from "Song of Myself" by Walt Whitman

Impressionable as I've always known myself to be- I obeyed. That will Mr. Whitman spoke of was bonafide and iron clad in me. I am a strong swimmer, always will I be. And hope has been my life preserver, keeping me afloat when the current seemed against me.

"And that is where you found me-

At the water's edge.

I could see across the river then...

and I showed you the other side.

But you, in your boat of reason-

Sailed smoothly across,

leaving me to swim..."

Waves-T.L. Starks copyright 2003

I began farming to take a stand against the tide of disconnections in the ever growing ocean of corporate human hands-off bullshit. I for one need connections, need to know where it came from, how lovingly it was prepared. Food is the flavor of life, we all need it, share it, come together in rituals through the ages to partake in the bounty of it. Food is grace. The care of the earth and it's inhabitants have played a central part in my vocation, there is a sense of an ever present common good amongst the rows and I wanted to be a farmer because of that vision. Yes, I will farm- will grow good food and common good as long as I am able. Four season farming will be my goal, in green houses and in spring and summer- greener surroundings. "Growing in a big way" is my motto, my creed- fitting my soul like a liquid shell.

And finally- I had to step outside this morning, in the dark- to see what might remain of me here on this farm. I gazed upwards to see the crop of stars and realized-I'll gladly leave behind for all to wish upon or curse (if need be), a place to plant the seed of dreams. A blanket of stars, there in that night sky- covers each and everyone I know or will never know- with an assurance that even in the darkest dark- the light of the one who created it all penetrates eternally. Some look up at the sky and feel so small while some gaze upon the diamond studded floor of the heavens and sense an enormity beyond their loneliness, their littleness, their solitary souls. (And you know, somewhere deep inside you, that there is no such thing as a solitary soul or you would not have stumbled in here and stayed so long- though please know, I'm so glad you did.) No being ever could sell or trade what is freely given there above you, no one can take it from you- there is no more a fertile place in the universe that I know of, than a starry night sky for wonder upon wonders.

Be well, take care-

We're not all like that...

There but for the grace of God, go I.

I noticed the man as I was driving into town to pick up my supper. I was lazy, I suppose- I had plenty of fresh vegetables at home to prepare a quick meal, but I was hungry for Mexican- precisely, Nachos Al Carbon. ( I believe that's what they're called.) He was standing under the overpass on business 55, also known as a little jaunt of Route 66. He looked a bit disheveled, loaded down by a backpack, a suitcase on wheels and a duffel bag. He had a dirty old ball cap almost pulled down further than his ears would allow. He had stopped and was looking around as I passed on the other opposite lanes, me heading South, he North. As I passed and looked perhaps a bit to intensely at him, his eyes met mine- he seemed to know I was thinking about him, observing him.

For a moment, my heart went out to this stranger- he was talking to no one in particular to my sight, though I suppose to him his constant invisible companion was a friend or a mentor. Either way- the few steps he would take were followed by a pause, a shifting of baggage and then a conversation with the air. So my concern for him stayed in my head and heart, encased by the safety of my truck cab and I went on with my business of acquiring supper down the road. Of course when I got to the restaurant, giving them a full ten more minutes than they said of the twenty minutes that would be needed to prepare my order-my takeout wasn't ready. I sat and read a local paper, waiting wondering about the man wandering along the road side. I wondered where he was going and how long before the state troopers would scoop him up after finding him walking and talking in his unusual way to the invisible nothing striding along side him.

With my supper secured I headed back home, again wondering if I would see the man- had he made it to the interstate yet? Surely he had, unless his lengthy conversations lasted longer than his actual steps. As I neared my turn off on Wolf Creek Road, I spied the man just then loping across the graveled road way. I deliberately slowed, my heart and head fighting- here was my chance to reach out to my fellow man, give him a lift ( not literally) by perhaps a little kindness in the way of a smile and acknowledgement with a wave. (But my head said "he's crazy- and sister we know crazy, ain't no reasoning with 'em!" So, I kept to the road.) I needed to turn right, he needed to go straight across the road and just then, a jeep came from the east, slowing to stop before entering business 55. The poor wayward man looked for a moment- perplexed. The Jeep posed the problem of his getting across the roadway faster than the he had counted on. He did look up at the driver, with a kind of apologetic gaze, sheepishly he trudged on, purposely giving the duffel bag and suitcase a needed boost, he was hurrying. I was relieved, still some sanity there, enough to act accordingly anyway. I pulled in, the Jeep driver looking mighty P.O'd, as if he had been waiting longer than time allowed. The driver looked at me as if dumbstruck- "Can you believe this guy, this trash?!" And the next thing I know, he burned out of there- spraying the poor man with rocks and gravel and dust. There was absolutely no need in that, none. The homeless man just stood there. I stopped then, just before crossing the tracks. I looked out the window as the dust settled, so wanting to say something, anything to make up for the inhumane treatment my traveling friend had just suffered. Again, his eyes met mine and in the briefest second he conveyed to me a wordless why.
Brother, I just don't know. I mouthed, "I'm so sorry, we're not all like that." I couldn't even smile or wave. I wanted so then to jump out and prove to him that we are in fact, not all like that. That his freedom, his safety, his very being was as precious as any one's, that he mattered. But even the pick ax in my door, hidden by a concave compartment- wasn't enough security to allow me to do something as reckless as picking up a hitchhiker who appeared to be a bit on the schizophrenic side.

All I could do was pray, maybe asking a bit of forgiveness for my powerless feeling. My safety and security were fortified by my remaining in the vehicle of my choice. The homeless man's choice? To be showered by rocks, to wonder why, to wander on...

Sometimes in this world, things happen and I do feel so powerless but I find by doing the best that I can do right here right now, being kind and not only tolerant but accepting of any and all lives, even the ones that are filthy, dirty, beyond my understanding as to the whys of those lives- I find at least some comfort in knowing that we can inhabit this big wide world together. Somehow, we go along to get along- don't we? But right there in my midst, a wrong doing occurred, the strong oppressed the weak, made unsafe an other's journey. Why? The guy in the jeep was at least my age. The man walking, hard to tell- I'd say 40ish. But the point is this, he was doing nothing wrong...he was just on his way. What makes some folks among us so intolerant? We're not all like that...

I hope on that man's journey, someone braver than I can make that very clear to him. Take care-

If I do

Good morning once again...yep, we received another day. So many times...we forget what a gift that is.

Running around, rampant- worried about the world at large, but when it comes right down to it, I think people are hunkering down right now and looking out for number one. And that is important- to take care of ourselves first, make sure the family is secure, hopeful that we can take care of our group's basic needs. Oh sure, the government has got us in a bind, although much of it comes from our society standing by, silent- too silent some times when we should have been raising hell. Yes, we are all so very busy- so who has the time to step up and say, "Whoa! This is not right, not ethical. We will withhold our tax dollars...." Which, of course we cannot do- unless we want to do a stretch or pay massive fines. Seems some times, we just can't win- so we hunker down some more. Go with the flow. Buy what is sold and perhaps pray...Well, if you read this blog somewhat regularly, you know my prayer- a fine simple request. "Father thank you, increase my faith." In sunshine and rain, I say that prayer. It holds me accountable, I am strengthened, I am grateful, I am then fortified and must proceed with renewed faith. "To whom much is given, much is expected."

We, as Americans- to whom much is given, in spite of the long lines, traffic jams, high gas prices, food costs, educational woes, high taxes- some times forget just how truly good we have it. I suppose there is much to complain about, but there is so much more to be thankful for. Thank goodness we were born to be Americans, enriched on American soil, allowed by right of birth to agree or disagree. To voice our opinions in any way we see fit, as an individual or a group. We are entitled by that royal birth- to pursue happiness, or whatever it is we wish to pursue. Too many pursue what the hard work of others might bring them. They, the capable- posing as the incapable, prey upon our gifts, neglecting their own. We have become politically correct, bankrupt of our own common sense, indebted to those who have no intention of getting off our backs or the government roll. To them I say, enough is enough.

Politicians- you're breaking our blue collar backs, when we are emptied- who will supply your extravagant bonuses? Welfare recipients- if you are looking for a handout with two good strong hands held out, use those for something else other than picking my pockets. Newspapers- tell me some good news, or you'll become nothing more than compost fodder, I'm tired of your bad words.

The fear that is being shoveled by heaps and heaps upon our hearts, by the media, the music industry, Hollywood, our elected officials, and yes- even the green mongers- is bankable, but I see no interest bearing in my accounts. So CE Os, Administrators, Governors, State Officials,Presidential Shovelers- think about what your actions are saying. To me they say- Strike fear in the hearts of men and women, they will become indebted to us for the bail out that only big brother can provide.
Folks- isn't it time we saw through all that, truly see that the only thing Big Brother is doing is beating us down, further and further into submission? Fearful people regress into fearful children- but we're not children anymore. We have far too much knowledge, experience, wisdom- to be coerced into thinking that we need a hand holding session, that we need an overseer watching our piggy banks- as if we can't be trusted to account for our own savings. I think the leaders of our time are banking on our fear, our silence, our political correctness. Isn't it time we take hold of ourselves and say, "Look. You've worked hard all your life- the dreams that you dare to dream are often centered in the nightmare created by those who do not dream- they scheme. Money is their god and mass hysteria their religion. I have little faith in their system, but much faith have I in my self, my children- my own common sense and the Being that created it all. It is time I employed it. I will not be blinded by the darkness, but governed by the light."

Hope is real, love is permanent- all else is a smoke screen. If you feel like it's time to speak- that you have something to say that might evoke a good difference, if you're absolutely fed up with the way this country is run...down, write a letter to the editor. Align with men and woman who serve a higher purpose- a common good for all. Who are these people? Here are but a few-

The reporter who inspires by bringing us news that is worthy, that motivates and encourages us by the stories they tell of real people who stood up and had to do the things they did or do to not only survive but thrive. The teachers who teach and reach our children as individuals, empowering in them a sense of higher grasps of educational opportunities so that they may rise above any objections of their past upbringing- squashing their sense of fear and revealing to them their utmost possibilities. The farmers who share a common goal- feeding their nation, their community, their neighbors- nourishing all. The soldiers who volunteer to serve their country, their fellow country men- who at the very expense of their own lives- are willing to sacrifice all so that we don't really have to sacrifice anything. Think about that.

I said volunteers.

These young and old, men and women who are not making millions, nor can they ever hope too when they put on that uniform- they serve a higher purpose. They put themselves on the line at any given time- so that we may continue on in our sometimes too whiny way. These people are but a few examples of folks who are trying to make a difference. But...the way this country is run...down - it is getting harder and harder every day, for these folks- and that may be you and I in that accounting- to make these differences if we are in constant doubt, holding on to correctness and fear.

If we but let go of that fear, that correctness- who knows what might happen. The world will come to an end? Yes, in a sense- I suppose it will, but isn't it time for world changing? I mean, the kind of world where we all live in fear...of....higher gas prices? Food costs? Dying dreams? Is that kind of fear worth holding onto? Look around. This place is looking up. Look beyond the gas station, the grocery store- the bank. Look at the face on page 74 in your local paper- the guy who jumped in the river to save a stranger. Go on the Internet and Google Karma-tube...you won't believe your own eyes when you see what every day people like you and I are doing to make a good difference in the world- although I hope you will believe your heart as it beats a mile a minute with new found joy in dismantling the fear that you knew a moment ago as it makes room for the hope that will surely fill it. Hope is more powerful than the greatest of doubts.

Any one who has been through any dark night will tell you that it was not the money they had in their pocket or even a religious life preserver that saw them through- it was the hope garnered by some kind of inspiration by another, who- by their own experience gave them the light of hope, to find their own way.
Friends- we all are worthy of hope, of dreams becoming reality. We do deserve better than dark days, smoke screens. But we must first believe that hope in a fearful world is possible. I see no possibilities for deep change in a fear based society, but oh my goodness! The possibilities are sky high for a hopeful one! What are your highest hopes? What do you intend to do about it? Will you have the energy after another long day of just getting by- to try and make a difference, if not in your own life- perhaps in the way of kindness to another- to change the course of this world? Will this little by little contemplation then action truly make a difference? I wished I could answer that for you... Only you know your truth.

What essential steps might you take this day, this moment- to truly change your outlook, there by changing your children's attitude too? The truth and only the truth will set us free. And it surely will do some hurt, but the harm will not be everlasting- it will be momentary. The leaders of today...the fear mongers, will lead you alright. How much further are you willing to go?

My truth is apparent to me...thank goodness. I lived far too long in fear, I doubted the whole world because I doubted my self. A what if became a what is- it cracked me open and stripped me bare. My judgement was off, I could not align with my self for the longest time. Doubts of ever surviving invaded my dreams, my past, present and future. I had no hope. None. I cannot say for sure what finally awakened me, what defining moment brought me a hopeful vision. I only know that inspiration did find me. A card, a kindness- a glimmer of hope given to me by others in my time of desperation. This is grace, others remembered their cup was running over...they shared that abundance with me. By their grace, their goodness- a difference was made, a good deep change grew in me. Little ol' me. And here's the point- I'm just like you. Only, for whatever reason- I, like many others- have been subjected to a dark night of the soul- I had the choice to awaken to hope or to continue to fearfully sleep in my nightmarish world. The choice I made is apparent. I am not strong, I am by far one of the weakest people I know...but every day I wake up to hope, I choose to live no other way. By this choosing, every day- I must walk the walk. I must be courageous, I must convey what it is I know to be an essential truth. Not because I'm afraid the world will fall apart if I don't- it is essential that I share what I know because the world will become better if I do.

You and I and everyone we know needs hope, like water, like air- it is essential. Take my stories and dismiss them, or take the hope and share it. It is completely up to you. What you think, what you feel- if you allow yourself that beautiful freedom- is important, is necessary for deep change.

Peace and harmony are essential to the balance of all things...and is possible. But only you, you...as an individual can begin the process...in hope, others will follow. Not out of desperation or fear- but out of love and gratitude. Imagine! What might that world look like? What does the world look like to you right now? Picture the world you want. Hope or fear?

What is your answer?