Pecking

I was swinging my youngest daughter in a tire swing when she was in first grade. Suddenly she told me, “Stop! I have to warn you about something!”

We stopped, she got out of the swing and I got in. No small feat.

She shook her finger at me and said, “Don’t ever help baby birds out of their shells!” I nodded. “Promise, Daddy!” “Okay, I promise”

“Do you know why to not do it?”

“Not really,” I told her.

“Because babies have to peck, peck, peck their way out of the egg so their lungs will be strong enough when they come out…and birds know exactly how much pecking it takes. You don’t.”

Then, we changed places on the swing and enjoyed the rest of the evening.

I thought about people I have rescued too soon. The hot air I have spent trying to affect change. Tears I have dried too quickly. Times I’ve thought: Get Over It. Individuals I have pushed into what I thought should be the next phase of their life. My daughters.

As Sarabeth said to me, “You don’t know how much pecking it takes.”

I am reminded of the story of the butterfly in Zorba the Greek:

“I remembered one morning when I discovered a cocoon in the bark of a tree, just as the butterfly was making a hole in its case and preparing to come out. I waited a while but it was too long appearing and I was impatient. I bent over it and breathed on it to warm it. I warmed it as quickly as I could and the miracle began to happen before my eyes, faster then life. The case opened, the butterfly started slowly crawling out and I shall never forget my horror when I saw how its wings were folded back and crumpled; the wretched butterfly tried with its whole trembling body to unfold them. Bending over it, I tried to help it with my breath. In vain. It needed to be hatched out patiently and the unfolding of its wings should be a gradual process in the sun. Now it was too late. My breath had forced the butterfly to appear, all crumpled, before its time. It struggled desperately and, a few seconds later, died in the palm of my hand.

“That little body is, I do believe, the greatest weight I have on my conscience. For I realize today that it is a mortal sin to violate the great laws of nature. We should not hurry, we should not be impatient, but we should confidently obey the eternal rhythm” (Nikos Kazantzakis: pages 120-21).