The Egg

Hello All! It's a whole new world on this side of the weather.

Today, being the first day of Spring, is symbolic in many ways. New Life, New Year, New Babies (I already see the birds and squirrels chasing each other.)

I woke up earlier than usual (I'm dog sitting as we speak) to take the pup (his name is Copper) for a walk. Even though I was tired, the soft twittering of birds and the half light of pre-dawn perked me right up. Copper happily trotted and sniffed everything as I was marveling that it was officially Spring.

Spring always holds promise in the air. It's a time for celebrating.

But here's the truth. I was noticing things that made me feel sad. I didn't know I was sad until I saw an egg. A cute, perfect little white egg, unscathed, but alone, isolated on the ground. I couldn't find a nest. I couldn't locate a bird momma. Helplessly I stared at this egg, smudged but in tact, and despaired about the little chick inside. About how cold it must be getting, about how I couldn't take it back with me because this isn't even my house and I'm already looking after one animal, and I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BE A BIRD MOM.

Some people may call this spiraling. My inner sadness had found something to latch onto and the longer I stared at that egg, the more the symbolism grew. It was the first day of spring, eggs represent potential, and this potential egg was dying. Something in my life is expiring. Could be an aspect of myself, or will it be a physical loss? <---You see why this would cause stress.

On the other hand, I can choose to spin it another way. I saw an egg on the first day of spring. It was out of place and alone, but whole and in tact. What a beautiful promise of good things to come. It was such a cute egg that I wanted to scoop it up and protect it, but we must respect the wilds of nature, even when it hurts us.

See? Same situation, different mindset, and no spiraling. So I walked on and hoped the little egg would be found and taken care of; then I tackled my Saturday.

But on our evening walk, I felt stressed to see the egg was still there. Still at the base of this short tree that has zero nests nearby. Where the heck did this egg come from?? I googled what to do when you find a wild egg, and apparently there is something called the Migratory Bird Treaty Act which kindly requests that we DO NOT TAKE THESE EGGS.

So instead I shone a light through it and could see the faint core within. I was looking for veins - the sign of a living egg. And I'm looking around, sad and frazzled, like... what was my plan? All my energy was devoted to worrying about this little egg, and how can worry help it?

This is not the way to help. This was overly empathetic. But as I looked at that little egg, I wondered... was I worried about the egg, or was I stressed about what I was making the egg symbolize?

Lost potential? Untapped opportunities? Failure? Perhaps these are the real reasons I was sad, and fixating on the egg was merely a distraction. I don't know what to do with my sadness, of which I have lots. But that's a vulnerable part of myself, a part that I learned not to share with people.

I have the power to see the joy in situations, to behold the beauty and wonder of moments and people, and I love that. But it's not the whole of me. To balance out the happiness and the laughter, there is a cavern of sad that dwells within me too. Sadness that I tried to heal from others by commiserating with them, sadness for myself, and perhaps sadness that I can't even identify.

It's Spring, and I'm glad. So much has changed, and what we make them mean effects us deeply. I do hope that little egg gets the TLC it deserves, but if not, I must remember that nature is mysterious and often brutal. And that the power to care for a little egg is a sign of my own nature, but I don't have to get lost to it.