There Are Some Days

chickens, backyard chickensThere are some days when I don’t feel very compassionate. Or centered. Or forgiving. Or tolerant.

Today was one of those days. It started out as any other day. I started out loving, compassionate, tolerant. The sun shone brightly despite the cold temperatures of the autumn air. I was happy to go to work. To see the folks I enjoy spending my work days with. To hear how their weekend went. To share my weekend experiences with them. To simply go through life. I worked hard. I saved lives. No one hated me. No one spoke mean to me. In fact, I heard many “thank you’s” today. It was a good day.

Until I came home. Funny how something as silly as a chicken can twist your world up on end.

You see, I have had these two flighty, totally anti-social hens living in a chicken tractor in my urban backyard for the past summer. I’ve written about them before. In spite of our past love-hate relationship, these darned clucks had grown on me. They were finally settling down and becoming friendly. Finally becoming pets and a joy to have around.

chickenToday I came home to find only one hen alone in the coop, freaking out. The other was gone without a trace. No possible escape. No possible predator. No feathers. No blood. The coop door was closed as usual. I searched the yard. I searched the neighbor’s yards. I asked neighbors if they heard or saw anything. Nothing. I came back to the coop. There was only one explanation. The only way she could have left was through the door. And there is only one thing that could have opened and closed that door – a human.

I was blinded by anger. A litany of questions flooded my consciousness. Why? What for? What gave them the right? Who the hell did they think they were? Why were their needs or wants more important than mine? Why did they view what was mine as theirs? The peacefulness of compassion and joy that usually fills my presence was long gone. I wanted blood, a thief’s blood. I wanted to spill someone’s blood. An eye for an eye. Tooth for a tooth. I wanted that person to hurt like I was hurting now. The hurt of loss. The hurt of feeling violated. Of feeling exposed. Anger.

So I yelled. I swore. I raged at the world. I cried. I tried to reason the unreasonable act of another. But it’s just impossible. I wanted to hate, but I just can’t. Not really. It takes too much energy. And I just don’t have the inclination to mistrust every being out there, questioning whether or not they are the one who stole her from me. I’m sure there could also be a number of gallant reasons why one would steal a chicken, but I’m too exhausted to even consider them now. Too worn out from anger.

I know I’m supposed to be compassionate. Centered. Forgiving. Tolerant. I’ve worked hard to be there. But at this time, I just can’t. I don’t want to. I’d rather wallow in this cesspool of hurt. Anger. Malevolence. Intolerance. Give me this bit of time. I’m only human. And tomorrow is a new day.