He started this endeavor when he brought them home by saying, “now Anne, you can’t fall in love with them. You know why we’re raising these.”
And there they were, 25 little fluffy yellow chicks peeping around a tiny little swimming pool in our garage.
I heard what he was saying. As well as this man knows me, I stopped for a moment to wonder, how well does he know himself?
Every morning, first thing after waking one or both of us would head out to the chicken coop to feed chickens. At first, when they were in the garage, it was super easy and they needed to be attended to multiple times a day. Everybody said, “keep food and water in front of them and they’ll do just fine.” They were right, it was pretty simple and we did just that.
While they were growing very very quickly in the garage Clarence constructed the chicken coop in the back half of my garden shed. A few weeks into the endeavor we moved them into their official home.
Feedings 2 times a day every day, continued.
Each night before bed we would go and pull their food, fill their water, make sure it was warm enough with a heat lamp and electric heater, say good night, and go to bed. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
Seven weeks later, the fateful day came. Slowly and calmly taking deep breaths in between I loaded each one into a crate. I said, thank you to each and everyone. I wanted them to feel calm and so I was calm, and peaceful.
It’s been a great experience. I learned that after decades away from a farm, I really genuinely do enjoy the privilege and responsibility of taking care of an animal, or in this case a bird. I also came to understand more clearly that they are a lot of responsibility; Clarence missed out on two overnight trips for expos that I was in because somebody had to stay home and take care of the chickens. If we were out for a day, we had to “get home and feed the chickens.”
As we loaded them we talked about what we enjoyed about the experience and that we will do it again for sure, no question.
By and large I thought I did a pretty good job of keeping my feelings tucked away considering the fact that these are meat birds. Sorry if anyone is offended by that but we eat meat at our house and I’d rather grow it and take responsibility for it when I have the opportunity to do so.
The closer the moment came to Clarence driving them away in the back of the truck ever so slowly the tears came. As I cleaned up their feeders and washed out their water cans, still more. At one point it occurred to me that I was trying to protect myself from nothing more than my feelings, and from there, I really had to ask myself why that was so important to me.
It wasn’t love that I was feeling. It was respect, it was gratitude, it was appreciation for what Clarence and I had given, and what we were receiving. It was powerful, and I felt it, and it came out for me in the form of tears.
It occurs to me how often we try to hide or protect ourselves from our feelings. A very wise teacher of mine once said “tears are just the soul’s way of clearing off the windshield.” It’s so true. Too often we treat ourselves like tears are acid and emotions are something to either be ashamed or embarrassed of, or to be angry at ourselves for having in the first place.
Emotions are emotions. They’re transient. I’m not crying anymore. I felt what I felt, and I let myself have it, and then it moved into something else that I am now feeling. Perhaps curiosity at this point? Wondering why we are sometimes intimidated by our feelings.
Brené Brown, in her book ‘Atlas of the Heart,’ gives definition to 87 different feelings. The average person according to her research can identify seven. Seven. Let that sink in.
Let me stand before you as a poster child of learning to be comfortable with emotions. I have a mentally driven personality. I tend to flow more masculine energy than feminine. My emotions are something that I don’t necessarily love to play with. But as I said before, with tear streaks on my cheeks and based on how I smell, I’m pretty sure some chicken poop on my clothes, I am humble, but I am not humiliated. I own that I am, among many other things, a very deep feeler. I also own that I have spent a lot of time and energy practicing how to be comfortable with the fact that I am predominantly a thinker, and how to give recognition, identity, and when necessary voice, to my feelings.
I encourage you to do the same, learn to be comfortable with the fact that you feel because we all do. Learn to stop and identify specifically what it is that you are feeling. I know that I have preached to choir before on this very same subject, and here we are again. Why? Because it’s truly that important.
If we want to expand our consciousness, if we want to raise our vibration, if we want to create and manifest lives that are joyful and meaningful and fulfilling, we absolutely have to get comfortable with the emotions of our life. No matter what it is, your emotions are not the bad guy.
Learn to be present and mindful of what you are feeling so that you can give it a name that is accurate. In doing so? You are beginning the process of liberation for a part of yourself that without it, no other part can freely and fully exist.
Now, I need to go clean a chicken coop, and probably shed a few more tears.
Ps- we are absolutely doing this again next year. They’re just tears.
Forever the journey, Anne