Please Pick Your Proper Place in the Pecking Order

Thought for the day:  Can a writer spend so much time blogging ... he no longer has time to write?

Answer: I dunno about you, but I sure can. It's a vicious cycle: start a blog to promote your writing, and then spend so much time blogging, there's not much writing to support... (Gotta do better at striking a balance.)

DING, DING, DING! Rerun time! Some of you may remember this post from when it first ran in June of 2011, but it should be new to most of you. Sorry for being such a slacker today, but I hope you enjoy it, nonetheless.

Remember the False Start Friday bloghop sponsored by the loverly Suze? It was supposed to be playing its swan song the last Friday of this month, but the date has been changed, so now,  it's gonna be held a week earlier. And, um, it's also gonna be on a Thursday. So, technically, you could call it False Start Thursday if you'd like, but that doesn't sound nearly as good. It's gonna be held on Valentine's Day, and with an underlying theme of loooove. So, if you wanta sign up, pop on over to let Suze know. (That means I'll be posting on Thursday next week instead of Friday. Matter of fact, I think I'll shake things up and post on Tuesday and Thursday, and see how that goes.)

Check it out! I've got another cool bloghop to tell y'all about. What better way to celebrate Einstein's birthday than with a trip through a wormhole? Not the muddy kind with actual worms in it, but those nifty neat-o theoretical ones that allow you to whoosh through time and space. The idea? Write about where and when you'd choose to travel  if  you could go slip-sliding through one of those holes. Would you go back and change something in history? Maybe go forward to see if your team ever wins a Super Bowl? With my lousy sense of direction, I just hope I don't get lost. (Those darned wormhole entrances better be well marked!)  This hop is gonna be hosted by L.G. Smith, Laura Eno, and Stephen Tremp, and it promises to be a lotta fun. You can register to participate at any of their blogs. (Or by clicking on Einstein's face in the sidebar.)

Okeydoke, enough chatter. Here's my oldie but goodie, originally titled Open Up Them Wings, Baby... with a few minor changes. (DANG IT! Even when I'm trying to be a slacker, I can't stop myself from editing...)

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Thought for the day:  Just because you're sitting  in a garage doesn't mean you're an automobile.

The winter winds are blowing, so hot soup is on the menu, but how about a little food for thought to spread on your crackers? It's story time... a story loosely based on  James Agreey's The Parable of the Eagle.

While traipsing through the woods one day, a kind-hearted farmer found an injured eaglet, which he scooped from the ground, and carried back to his barnyard. There, the eagle gradually regained his strength, and was soon able to take his place with the other birds in the barnyard. In no time, he was walking and squawking like a chicken, and pecking chicken feed from the ground.

Months later, a naturalist stopped by the farm, and mortified by the young eagle's condition, demanded to know why the mighty king of birds was confined to a barnyard, scratching around in the dirt like a common chicken. The farmer claimed the bird was now, in fact, a chicken. He'd been raised like a chicken and never taught to fly, so he was  no longer an eagle. But (naturally) the naturalist insisted the bird still had the heart of an eagle, and could surely be taught to fly. And what's more, should be. The farmer finally agreed to let the naturalist try.

The naturalist picked up the eagle, tossed him into the air, said, "You're the king of the sky. Stretch forth your wings and fly!"

But the eagle looked at his chicken friends pecking corn from the ground, and immediately fluttered back down to join them.

The next day, the naturalist tried again. This time, he took the eagle up onto the roof. Again, he said, "You're an eagle, the king of the skies. Stretch forth your wings and fly!"

But once again, the bird returned to the safety of the chicken yard.

The third day, the naturalist carried the bird to a nearby mountain. He held the eagle high above him, and said, "You are an eagle, the king of the skies. Spread forth your wings, and fly!"

The bird hesitated at first. He looked back toward the farm, back to the only life he knew. Then he trembled, stretched his mighty wings, and with a triumphant cry, soared into the sky.

It's possible the eagle may sometimes miss his life among the chickens; he may even visit the barnyard once in a while for old time's sake. But as far as anyone knows, he's still living as an eagle, the king of the skies. As he... and all eagles... should.
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How about you? Are you still hanging around in the barnyard because you're too frightened to stretch your wings? Never ever let someone else's definition of you and your capabilities, of what you should be doing with your life, prevent you from trying or from chasing your dream. Because, you too, are an eagle, you know, and you owe it to yourself to fly.

Schoolchildren aren't the only ones with untapped potential.

                                                       

Value yourself. The only people who appreciate a doormat are people with dirty shoes.

                Bottom line: What would you be doing if you weren't grounded by fear?

                                    Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.