When sometime you decide to blog, I wish you luck! I’m not highly educated, so I don’t know what a blog is supposed to consist of. I’ve asked around but, alas, no conclusive direction has been offered. Every now and then I’m very inspired by something someone else has penned. So, being a Penner, I hope and trust that every now and again I’ll write something that will inspire someone else as well. But I don’t write for your inspiration. I don’t train people in the Input Business Course for their benefit. Rather, I do these things for my own personal growth. I teach, and we (the class) share our hearts. Lower lips tremble. The Kleenex box gets shared as our group digs deep. When we part ways three intense days later, we each leave with some heart information. Yes, folks. We need heart. Physically we must have a functioning heart. The same holds true emotionally. We must have a functioning heart. We need to be transparent. Unafraid of using the Kleenex box when emotion runs high. This is the core of gratitude. Vulnerability. Dare to be different. Step out of your comfort zone!
Where does this inspiration originate? I’ll tell you. A group of Robins. I think three. Maybe six. But then perhaps only one pair.
Beside business training and writing blogs, I deal with my need to be occupied with building things. So, in the past weeks I’ve been building an outdoor sauna. A quaint old horse shelter that came with the place is being transformed into a wood-fired sauna. It will be so neat! Cold plunge…the whole works.
So back to Robin; or Robins. One morning about a month ago I’m working out at the sauna. We use the term “singing their heads off!” Well, the robins were having a jamboree! Singing their heads off. Their song was so noisy that it was beginning to annoy me. “Cut back already. Turn the volume down!” But I don’t speak Robin and they don’t understand English, so their volley of triumphant songs continued full blast.
In the meantime, one set of robins had made their new home in the pole shed. They must have had a new robin family happening. They didn’t like our presence in the shed. Well, alas. The kingbird robbed the nest. The evidence was remnants of robin egg outside the pole shed door. But the singing continued.
A fortnight or so later I walked into the sauna, which was still a work in progress. In panic and haste Mrs. Robin and I had a near-collision in the doorway. I’m coming in. She’s exiting. I’m startled, as is she. I wonder, “Shall I hunt for the nest?” “No,” I’m thinking, “let her raise her young.” Well, a few days later the kingbird has evidently discovered the Robin’s new address. Proof? More broken Robin eggs at the doorway of the sauna.
What’s sitting on the fence pole 40 feet away? The Robin. Singing her heart out!
This was a tremendous lesson for me! In all probability Mrs. Robin lost two sets of young this season. Still sitting on a fence post singing her head off.
Is that gratitude? Or What?
Good Day!
