Fable

The blue blue parrot

Gerard S. HoffLeave a comment

IMG_4207

Once upon a time there lived a parrot somewhere in Africa. It was a blue parrot what made him pretty rare as such. Not only did he have a rare colour, he also was a parrot that was always cold.

Although the sun was shining ferociously, the blue parrot shivered from beak to tail and constantly complained to his friends about the fact that he felt so cold. In particular his girl friend, a gorgeous red’n’yellow parrot. “South” he always said, “south. I heard that birds from the north fly south to avoid the cold winter.”

One day his girl friend was so fed up with the complaining and told him to go south! And so the blue parrot did. He packed a few things and took off. “South” he said, “it is there I will find warmth.”

So the parrot flew and flew. Through storms and rain, but persistent to find warmth, until one day he was to tired to fly and landed. As soon as he touched the ground, he realized it wasn’t something he had felt before. Hard, white and cold! Very cold. He looked around and saw a strange looking, big black bird.

“Hello” the Emperor Penguin said, “could you spare a minute watching my egg? I have to go for a little pee, you see?” “Of course” said the blue parrot and set on the egg, while he watched the penguin wiggle away.

When the penguin came back, the parrot asked, “Why aren’t you flying?”
“Well” the penguin said, “I can’t. Although I am technically a bird, I don’t have wings to fly, that’s why I walk.”
“Oh” the blue parrot said, “but when you can’t fly, why are you black as coal, with a white belly and a golden scarf? A predator can see you from miles away!”
“Interesting observation”, the penguin replied, “but you see, we’re with thousands and we want to be seen as one black mass, so a predator is scared and hasn’t got nerve to attack.”

After the blue parrot the penguin shared some stories and food, the parrot found out he was on Antarctica. He stayed a while and became good friends with the Emperor Penguin, but at one point he decided to move on, further south, to find warmth, at least that was what he thought.

His next encounter, after a long flight, was an even stranger one; a huge black and white bear that called himself Panda. After observing the panda for a day, he asked “Why are sitting all day, just eating?”
“Well”, the panda said, my diet consists almost entirely of leaves, stems and shoots of various bamboo species. And I need around 25 kilos of the stuff a day. There’s hardly any nutrition in there, so not much else to do then eat. I know, it’s a bad habit.”

After the blue parrot the panda shared some stories and food, the parrot found out he was in China. He stayed a while and became good friends, but at one point decided to move on, further south, to find warmth, at least that was what he thought.

He flew on and on until he saw White Shiny Mountains in the distance. When he landed, a completely white bear, which friendly asked what a bleu bird like himself was doing on the North Pole, accompanied him. “North Pole?” the bleu parrot said in a slight panic? But I have flown South all the time, how is this possible?” The Polar Bear didn’t know either.

“So, why are you so white?” the parrot asked, “nobody will see you, isn’t that dangerous?” “On the contrary” the white bear said, “it helps me to move closer to something I can eat, without being noticed. But don’t worry, I won’t eat you. You don’t look appetizing in blue and besides, I’m about to go into hibernation.”

“Hibernation? What’s that?” The bird replied. “Oh, it is e deep sleep for a few months.”, the bear said.
“A few months of sleeping? How boring is that!”, the bleu parrot reacted shocked, “No hanging out, no fooling around, just sleep for a couple of months! I couldn’t survive that”

The bear smiled and said “It actually is the way to survive. The coming months will be very cold and not a lot to eat, so the best way to survive is a good deep nap. A nap where the best dreams accompany me. It isn’t a bad way to pass time, let me assure you.” But the bird already had taken of the second he heard the words ‘very cold’. South. Once again! Looking for warmth.

After another long flight, the parrot touched ground to have something to eat. Suddenly the parrot saw a blurry grey spot moving his way. “Hello old chap” a small beak in the grey/white fur said, “what brings you to London?”
“London?” the bird said, “and what might you be?”
“I am an Old English Sheep dog, although not that old. Must say, very odd to see a bleu bird like you in the park walking around. Normally I see them birdy’s in a cage.”
“In a cage?” the bird replied, “that’s be awful! Nowhere to go, no way to fly, that’s not a life for a bird, that is inhuman!” The dog agreed, or at least the fury cloud with 2 eyes went up ad down.

After the blue parrot and the Old English Sheep dog shared some stories and food, the parrot a good friends with the dog, but at one point decided to move on, further south, to find warmth.

Again he took off, taking the sky, and this time, after a few weeks, the bleu parrot sensed the air was getting warmer. Also, the odour of the air changed. It evoked old memories. Memories of his girlfriend, the gorgeous red’n’yellow parrot.

Suddenly the blue parrot was caught in mid-air. Literally, as in all his musings, he flew into a tree. With much drama the blue parrot fell down and when he opened his eyes, he saw only colours.
“Have you found warmth?” a familiar voice said and when his eyes focused he recognized his red’n’yellow girlfriend!

“Funny you ask”, he said. “I met a lot of interesting creatures, heard a lot of intriguing stories and been to a lot of interesting places while going South. Strangely I am her now, right where I started and to answer your question: I never thought about feeling cold, so finding warmth somehow is not on my mind anymore. To be honest, I am glad to see you again.”

The red’n’yellow parrot looked at the bleu parrot and put her wings around him and said: “Perhaps you should focus on being warm instead of feeling cold.”

Then she smiled and said: “Oh, by the way, I have a little surprise for you”
“Daddy!” four multicolored parrots said.

The blue blue parrot is part of the World of Beast

The Indian Chicken and the practically Blind Mole

Gerard S. HoffLeave a comment

There are two kinds of chicken: Normal chicken and abnormal chicken. In between there’s nothing or at least not much to talk about. This story however is about a chicken that is beyond abnormal or better ‘absurdormal’ and there’s a lot to say.

FullSizeRender

The beginning

This particular chicken lived in India and she was unhappy. She felt out of place and misunderstood. The way she talked, dressed and shared her ideas about the world did not resonate with her sister-chicken. In fact, it gave her a kind of separate status, in other words: Nobody dared to talk to her anymore.

One day she was strolling through the field alone, when the wind blew a piece of paper in her face. When she shook the paper off she saw it was a fashion magazine from America. She was amazed with what she saw and immediately knew what she had to do: Go West, going to America.

She didn’t wait long and left (chickens just travel light, because there’s not much to bring along and besides, how can chicken carry things?). She started walking and left the ground she was born and raised on and stepped into the unknown. But the unknown didn’t stop her, how could it, it was just a metaphorical barrier, and she went on with clear goal: The horizon.

After a while she realized that the horizon was a pretty abstract concept and wasn’t sure this ‘landmark’ would bring her to America…. When she sat down the most amazing thing happened: The earth moved. For the chicken it was clear. It was a sign from above: she was moving in the right direction, while actually it was a sign from below. To be more precise, it was a mole getting rid of his dirt.

The Mole

“Anyone there?” asked a small mole with a pink nose, “I thought I heard a kind of squeak, I hope I haven’t scared anyone? The thing is, I am as good as completely blind and as a result I bump into things.”

The chicken was too flabbergasted to speak sense. The only thing she’d seen come out of the ground were worms, so the most sensible thing for her to say was: “Hi, it’s me, the Indian chicken that wants to go to the west, to America”.

“America?” the mole replied, “Why on earth would you go to America? Getting halfway would take a lifetime and it’s not better then things are here. Besides, you’re going in the wrong direction!”

“I don’t care”, said the chicken, “nobody understands me here, I need to go away! To America. I need to go to a place where people understand me! I saw it in the magazine. Look at me, I am gorgeous, but nobody wants to see it!”

“Well, I am kind of blind as I told you” said the mole, “so I can’t see it either, but the way I sense your presence, you’re a beautiful creature. At the same time, listening to the words you say, I’d say it isn’t about them not understanding you, it’s about you not understanding them”.

“Say again?!” the chicken said. She was almost walking around like a headless chicken, and in this particular case, with the head still attached. The mole sensed her amazement and continued, “Yes, it is not about them, it’s about you. Think of it: It’s much easier to change yourself then to change the world, even when the world is the small field you have been livng on. The thing is, every one of them has created his own reality and they feel comfortable in it! Who are you to change it?”

“No!” the chicken replied, “I have to go West, and do not want to stay here in the East. I know for sure everybody will understand me in the West, it is there I belong. The only thing I need to figure out is where The West is and how long it takes me to get there.

Funny you mention it like that, because actually The West is nearer then you think.

“Is it?” said the chicken, “but just seconds ago you told me it takes a lifetime to get there! So please make up your mind before I go out of my mind!”

The mole looked at the chicken, but didn’t see her of course because he was practically blind and responded: “Well, the thing is The West is always next to The East. It is just a matter of how you look at it. And in your case, I think that might do the trick for you to be happy again”.

“Happy again?”
“Next to me?”
“What do you mean?”
“I really don’t understand it anymore” the chicken replied and almost fainted (of course a chicken brain isn’t that big and this overload of information that was countered by the double amount of questions, more or less made that steam came out of her ears, which in the case of a chicken are hard to find).

The mole intuitively knew the chicken almost went berserk and quickly said “Let me explain by telling you a story about a friend I have”, and he began:

The story within the story

“He was one of those fanatic runners (he was a rabbit), running every day and when you asked him what he loved about running, he said “I love running in nature, because nature takes out all the negative things I have inside, and afterwards I feel refreshed and reborn!”

But then he broke is paw and wasn’t able to run, even after it had healed he wasn’t able to run anymore so stayed inside his rabbit hole and became depressed. He couldn’t run anymore, so the negativity build-up inside him and wasn’t released while running in nature, even his fur turned grey.

At one point I ‘accidentally’ dug a tunnel into his hole and I saw him sitting there. Depressed, down, out of shape and looking 12 years older, so I reminded him that he could also stroll through nature, without running.

He looked at me for a second and realised he’d been a fool for a long time! “Yes” he said, “of course! How could I be so stupid! It is not about the running, it is about the nature and it doesn’t matter how I experience nature I just need to experience it!”.

And after that he went out (and really needed to get used to the light, because he was so much used to the darkness of his hole), so after a few stiff blinkers with his eyes, he started walking slowly and realized how great the trees were and how green the grass and how good nature was in absorbing negativity. Almost instantly he felt happy and never lost that feeling again. I asked him afterwards: “What did you learn that day?” He said: “Every time I feel depressed, I turn around, take a step back and think about the situation from the other way. By doing that I create a new perspective, which gives me so much energy! I realize everything that happens, is just the way I see it, experience it and interpret it. In fact, other rabbits gave me a new name ‘Grabbit’. Grab life the way you want”.

“Good” I said “and just hearing to those words makes me happy”

FullSizeRenderLess steam came out of her hard to find ears when she said “OK, but how does that apply to me?”

“Well” the mole answered, “It’s like I said, it isn’t about them not understanding you, it’s about you not understanding them. Maybe instead of trying to change them, it is better to understand that your judgement is based on what is happening inside you. It’s this what creates the negative perspective. Therefor, in my humble opinion, is easier to accept that you are ‘weird’ and enjoy it”.

The clue

The chicken looked like a sheep, but didn’t seem to be running away anywhere soon, so the mole continued: “It’s like doing the opposite of your first impulse. That small moment is exactly when you can change perspective from East to West (or the other way around of course, or north to south, whatever feels good at that time). And instead of reacting defensive, react open heartedly, instead of panic see the challenge, instead of angry, react with a smile, just try it and you’ll see, live gets easier and much more delightful.

A lot of things were going on in the little chicken brain, but none of them were about traveling soon or changing wardrobe, most of it was preoccupied with not tipping over and processing the word of the mole. Suddenly she heard a series of clicks went on in the tiny chicken head, so loud, even the mole could hear it and he was practically blind, then she said: “I see your point, I never looked at it like that”.

The mole smiled and said “good to hear and by the way… the direction you travelled when I bumped in to you wasn’t west. It was east. The way back to your field is…west.”

 

The moral of this story should be pretty clear, I hope and is about changing perspective. The funny thing is that we’re so caught up in habits and impulse that we forget that maybe the source of change lies within ourselves. Even the realization of this fact will have dramatic effects on any outcome. Take the time to realize.

It reminds me of a nice quote I once read:

“To cause an avalanche you can shake the mountain or find the right place to drop a snowflake”

You’re that snowflake; find the right place.

The Indian Chicken and the practically Blind Mole is part of The World Of Beat collection.

 

Pelican can?

Gerard S. HoffLeave a comment

Pelicano2

It was a crowded pool.

It was so crowded, the movement of the birds almost looked like a newly invented elegant dance called the PeliCanCan! Almost elegant, because pelicans aren’t the best dancers in the world, especially not when they are hungry. This particular group of pelicans was hungry.
Very hungry.

As with any group of pelicans (or other kind of hungry flock) there’s always one who’s more hungry, behaving more foolish and more idiotic.

Normal pelicans scoop the water, catching a lot of water and occasionally a fish or 2 (or anything amphibian that unfortunately was swimming in the vicinity of the pelican) caught by expanding their throat pouch. After that they go back to the land and enjoy their meal. The hungry pelican, however, kept scooping. His beak was already stretched with fish. Other pelicans advised him to return and enjoy, but the hungry pelican murmured as good and bad as it goes with a mouthful: “No! Leave me, I can handle it. No problem here, I can manage, I just want to have enough fish, just in case.”

The hungry pelican kept scooping fish and water, ignoring his pelilfriends. His throat pouch was already stretched to the max, but still he wanted to catch one more fish. And then, the pouch broke!

All the fish in the beak, which had already said their prayers and reconciled with the fact that their glorious lives would end as mere fish stick snacks on the menu of a pelican, were free and also free to reconsider the rest of their fishy lives.

The pelican on the other hand, had a serious problem. His pouch looked like a ragged shopping bag and wasn’t able to catch another fish, let alone eat it and that caused a serious problem. No fish, no food, no food, a certain death….

Fortunately there was a pelican who could mend broken pouches, so after some serious stitching, revalidation a lot of liquid food, the formerly hungry pelican survived. He could collect food in his pouch again, but didn’t dare scooping the water, nor eating fish. He ate grass instead. The hungry pelican seriously considered to become the first vegetarian pelican ever, but after a while though, he realized fish was better than grass. Besides grass gave him the gas, so he turned herbivore again, but never ever stocked more fish than his pouch could handle…

 

The moral of this story can be a bit surprising, but is about the fact that it is better to let go of any issues and talk about it then to keep them inside. It might seem more comfortable, but the essence is: “It is not”.

Although it can be a serious threshold to talk about ‘issues’, in the end, letting them out and talk about it, will release you from a burden that will prohibit you otherwise. Talking about it will make you more light-hearted and will create a lot of new insights as well. Not only that ‘letting issues out in the open’ is better then keeping them inside, it also provides you new knowledge to avoid, recognize and handle new kind of issues as they cross your path. And believe me, they will cross your path, but from now on, they are like pins when climbing a mountain. Each pin will get you higher.

Pelican can? is part of the World of Beast

The Squirrel and the Parrot

Gerard S. HoffLeave a comment

Parrotti

Once upon a time, high up in a tree, a flaming red parrot was sitting on a branch. He was shivering and crying.

Along came a squirrel, which was actually not planning to stop, because he was on his way to the biggest acorn and nut feast one can ever imagine, which makes it for a small squirrel close to unimaginable to stop, but he stopped. He was touched by the extensive grieve of the parrot, that he sat down next to him on the branch; his tiny head slightly bend to the left, looking at the red parrot.

The parrot didn’t stop crying though, nor shivering, it even got worse. After a while, the squirrel asked: Well, what’s going on that is making you so sad?

I am completely lost, answered the parrot, and have no idea how to get home! I’ve been looking in all directions, but the only thing I see is trees. I’m completely desperate and have no clue to what to do next. The squirrel looked at the parrot compassionately. Why don’t you fly above the trees? He asked the parrot. The parrot looked at him with terror! Above the trees, he said, are you mad? Just the thought of it gives me a weak stomach.

Amazing! said the squirrel, but how did you get here? Did you climb your way up? No, no, said the parrot, I flew of course. I am not a good climber, besides, that would take forever!
So you flew? asked the squirrel, but what’s the problem then? The parrot turned even redder then he already was and said in an agitated way: The problem? The problem? The problem, dear friend, is that higher then the trees is as scary as the front end of a boa constrictor. And that’s why I am stuck here!

But you flew up to the top of this tree already, said the squirrel, there’s no difference between flying to the branch your sitting now or the sky above the tree. The only difference for that matter, is that by flying above the trees, you’re able to see the forest. And when you can see the forest, you’re able to see more then just trees and find a way back home.

The parrot was silent for a while. And silent parrots as such, are a rarity in this world. Normally they can’t stop jabbering about this and that and so on, so the squirrel hit a spot. The silence went on.

It’s interesting the dilemma you’re in, said the squirrel, and it’s up to you what you want to do about it. Actually it’s pretty simple, he continued, either you stay put on the branch and stay lost or you have to overcome your fears, fly up in the sky and find your way home.

But what if I fall down? said the parrot. You won’t, said the squirrel, you’re a bird, you were meant to fly, it’s what you’re designed for, unlike me. The parrot hesitated for a moment, but soon realized the squirrel might be right and said: OK, maybe I have to take my chances; sitting here on this branch won’t do forever either, will it? No, replied the squirrel, besides it will get very dark soon as well. The eyes of the parrot almost became bigger then its head and almost without a thought, spread his wings and then….

Took off. Just like that, up in the sky.

I can see the tops of the trees, it shouted to the squirrel, and I am not falling! A moment later it shouted: I can see the forrest! And the river! It’s beautiful up here! And hey! I see my home, now I know my way back! Thanks you for pushing me!

You’re welcome, said the squirrel and he went off to the magnificent acorn and nut feast.

 

The morale of this story is that in order to see the forest, you have to climb a mountain. Or in this case: Don’t be afraid to fly. When you don’t take the ‘risk’, the only thing you see is trees. Climbing a mountain creates the right perspectives and turns trees into a forest.

And there’s no need to be afraid. Everybody’s born with creativity and you will find solutions. The most important thing, is to make the effort to see things in a new perspective. Climbing that mountain may seem straining and tiring, but once you’re on the top, you instantly forget about the tiredness and get tons of energy from the fact that you made the achievement, but mostly from your new point of view.

Happy climbing.

The squirrel and the parrot is part of the World of Beast.

The Silent Parrot

Gerard S. HoffLeave a comment

The Silent Parrot

The Peacock was making a lot of noise when he told the parrot that he didn’t understand why the Peahen from around the corner didn’t give him a moment’s notice. His plumage was wide open and the pattern of blue eyes was shining in the sun. He was dancing and hopping up and down furiously and kept complaining, asking the Parrot how on earth it was possible that he crashed and burned like this.

Quizzically the Peacock looked at the parrot.
The Parrot bowed his head to the left.

The Peacock said: You’re right, maybe I am overdoing and maybe she just doesn’t like the jumping, Yes! I shouldn’t jump, so she can see my feathers and me better.

Again the Peacock looked quizzically at the parrot, while his mind kept spinning.
The Parrot bowed his head to the right.

Plumage! That’s it, I am intimidating her with my feathers. She doesn’t have a tail like mine, she’s probably sad and that’s why she doesn’t look at me. I have to go see her without my plumage up.

This time the Parrot blinked his eyes twice, but didn’t move his head.

The Peacock wasn’t bothered by the earsplitting silence of the parrot and realized another thing. I shouldn’t be so loud! Because of my cackling she actually can’t hear me!

Oh? the Peacock said.

The Parrot said absolutely nothing.

You think I should go talk to her? Without the jumping, the plumage and the cackling? And don’t talk? Just sit next to her, looking at the clouds and the beautiful flowers gleaming in the sun?
…………
Thanks pall, I’ll go right to her!

Sometimes the best way to entertain people is to say nothing.

 

Flamenco Joe So

Gerard S. HoffLeave a comment

Flamenco Joe So

Joe was a pink flamenco, with dark pink flames. Not very ‘masculine’ but then again, he’s a flamenco. Joe isn’t your ordinary flamenco, he’s one of those guys who sets the rules. You know them.

When he was young he wasn’t the unfriendly kind, but when necessary he would take your lunch money and somehow you’d accept it, because it was Joe. It was almost a privilege when Joe stole your money. And when somebody said something about it, Joe simply said “so?” and that was it.

With “so?” he defined a new set of rules, Joe’s rules. And in a way, “So?” was a one-syllable word that told a 1000 word story. Thinking about that, it wasn’t Joe’s 1000 word story, it was my own. In that sense, “So?” was a trigger to start thinking about the situation, putting things in perspective and at the same time it didn’t.
He still stole my lunch money.

Anyway, that was the reason Joe was called Joe So. He grew up doing what he did and always got away with it. One day, he was standing in the pond, together with all the other flamencos enjoying the sun, eating and chatting when it started to rain. Not just a bit of rain, but a serious downpour.

The pond filled slowly with water and the banks started to flood. The watercrept up the feet of the flamencos and one after the other got out of the pond. One of them said to Joe: “Hey Joe, shouldn’t you get out of the water as well? It is rising and almost up to your belly!”

“So?” said Joe and he remained where he was. Standing in the pond.

The rain kept downpouring from the sky. It was like somebody was trying to turn-over an ocean from the sky. More flamencos fled from the pool until the point all flamencos had left, but Joe remained where he was. And again a flamenco said: Joe! Shouldn’t you get out of the pond? The water is up to your shoulders!”

“So?” said Joe and he remained where he was. Standing in the pond.

All flamencos went away, hiding under the trees and the rain kept filling the pond until the water was up to Joe’s neck. That was the point when Joe thought “So!” and realized the situation became a bit tricky. Even for him. So he decided to get out of the pond as well and started to move to the banks.

But when he wanted to move his feet, they were stuck in the mud. He couldn’t move, while the water kept rising and rising. First the lower edge of his beak, so he had to move is beak up to get some air. Still his feet were stuck and then his head was under water, not being able to breathe.

Joe realized he wasn’t going to make it and his life flashed before his eyes and the last thought he had was “So that was it” and died peacefully.

The next day, the flamencos found his body on the bottom of the pond. His feet still stuck in the mud, but with a smile on his face.

Maybe you find this a shocking story but don’t worry. It is a fable and no live animals were hurt. That is the good thing about fables.

The moral of this story is that it is good to be stubborn and go your own way, but it is also good to listen to others (now and then). You don’t have to agree, but it is useful to think about what they say and react, and sometimes just take the advice that is offered to you. Because if you don’t, things always remain the same, with the unfortunate side effect something might go wrong.

Best advice? Don’t be inert, be open for new ideas, keep moving.
A little step at the time will do to not get stuck in the mud,
but be able to stand on top of it.

Flamenco Joe So is part of the World Of Beast.

The Vegetarian Fox and the Chicken

Gerard S. HoffLeave a comment

The HENry

It was a great day!

The sun was shining again after a short heavy rain. A rain that gave the air that special smell, you only have in the summer. A smell everybody remembers, but nobody can actually describe.

It also was the day a chick broke through the shell of her egg and had a first look on the outer-egg world. Although it smelled great it wasn’t really what she expected.

Around her, she saw frightened chicken (and one frightened rooster) faces, so instead of saying mama, or “cluck”, she asked what was going on. The answer didn’t affect the great smelling air, but profoundly set the stage for the rest of the life of the chick.

The previous night happened to be a night where a chicken was eaten by the devious fox.

It wasn’t the first time it had happened. The fox knew his way around the yard and (fortunately for the fox) always found a way to snatch a chicken in the end. It definitely was not good for the atmosphere of the coop.

Anyway, the chick grew into a chicken enjoying live as much as she could and learned to live with the occasional loss of a friend or family member. And above all,.. she started laying eggs.

One night, the chicken was about to sleep when she heard a noise. She turned her head and, before she knew it, was looking into the yellow/brownish eyes of The Fox….

The fox was very straightforward and explained the chicken he was going to eat her and that she should not take it personal and all, but before he could bite her neck, she talked back.

This wasn’t something the fox had expected. Actually it was the first time a chicken talked back and wasn’t choking from fear and anxiety, which was odd.

The chicken on the other hand had been thinking about this day, since her birth because she understood this particular day had to come.
Sooner or later.
The day of the confrontation with the fox, that is.

So she was prepared and instead of paralyzing, shaking, trembling, screaming and whatsoever, she made him a proposal.

She said to the fox: I understand that you’re hungry and as a result of that, you feel a strong urge to eat me…

The fox was perplexed and forgot to attack the chicken.
Instead, he turned his head slightly to the left and wanted to listen to what the chicken had to say. He never in his entire foxy live had ever encountered a smart chick like this. So he said: Please continue.

…but imagine how you feel after you’ve eaten me, she continued. You probably will have a full stomach. At least for a few days I think, but then slowly but certainly a new hungry feeling will start to tease your brain.

The fox slightly turned his head to the right. Amazed and curious, he wanted to hear more. The chicken was right. She described exactly what always happened, so he nodded…

And then you have to go hunting for another chicken, hoping to catch one and all that time you’re hungry. And what if the chickens run out. What then? The chicken asked.

The fox couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

So, she said, seeing the fox nodding his head, I have been thinking about your situation; instead of eating chicken and be very insecure when you can eat your next one, I offer you a solution: I offer you a daily supply of eggs; mine to be precise, to be collected right outside the coop, every morning at 8.

I know it sounds crazy, but think about it: you’ll never be hungry again. But there’s a catch. You have to promise never to eat a chicken again as long as I give you eggs.

The fox was intrigued by this proposal, but even more intrigued by the chicken. Not only did he start to like this crazy chicken a lot, also the more she talked, the less he felt like eating her.

On top of that, the unimaginable happened: he found the offer tempting.
Not only tempting, but also very acceptable.

Well? Asked the chicken, what do you think?

The Fox thought:
When everything goes wrong, the only thing left, must be right*, and said: Yes chicken, I accept your proposal.

And so the fox went to the coop every day around 8 and the chicken put outside the eggs she’d laid the day before. The fox never felt hungry and never ate a chicken.

Life was good.
The chickens weren’t afraid anymore, were cockling and jumping around and not one chicken died unnecessarily (except for an inescapable Christmas dinner the farmer of the coop threw once a year). And the fox and the chicken became friends, sort of. Anyway as far as a chicken and a fox can be friends.

Sharing thoughts and stories.

Until one day, after 4 years of egg supply, the chicken made a startling discovery. Her egg production stopped. She wasn’t able to lay any eggs anymore. She pushed and puffed, but there was no change in the egg situation. It stayed as it was, like the shape of an egg:
Zero.

The next day she had to confront the fox with this new situation.
Actually, she was preparing herself to be eaten and she couldn’t blame the fox. She made a promise and now she was breaking it.

Although she wasn’t really excited about the situation, she realized she had to go in order to save the coop. So after a few tears and a few goodbyes and farewells to friends and family, she went to her rendezvous with the fox.

The fox was already there, waiting for his eggs, when she arrived and the chicken, never hesitant, told the fox what was going on and even stretched her neck a bit so the fox could bite more easily.

She closed her eyes and waited for her moment to come, completely in peace, awaiting her fate, when she heard the fox’s voice:

Open your eyes, he said, so she did.
You don’t have to worry; I already knew it would come to this.
You did? Said the chicken.
Yes, I’ve noticed the number of eggs dropping gradually the last few months, and I was anticipating the fact that one day, there wouldn’t be any eggs.

So this is it? Said the chicken.
Yes, this is it, said the fox.
OK, eat me, said the chicken.
I won’t, said the fox.
No? Said the chicken.
No, said the fox.

Since the day we met, I’ve grown rather fond of you. I consider you a friend.  I can’t eat you. In fact, I couldn’t eat any chicken, even if I wanted to. When I noticed the number of eggs decreasing, I realized what was going on and that my egg-diet was going to end one of these days, so I started an alternative menu. I tried eating nuts and mushrooms and vegetables and I actually started liking them.

I guess I am officially a vegetarian fox now.

The chicken looked at him with the biggest eyes you’ve ever seen in a chicken’s head and she had to admit she was rather fond of the fox as well.

Give me a hug, she said.
And he did and they stayed friends forever.

 

The moral of this story is that even though in the beginning it seems as an impossible thing to do, eventually you’ll get it. Everything is a matter of starting. It is like Lao Tzu said: A journey of a thousand miles, starts with a single step. 

*Quote of Robin Williams, may he rest in peace.

How dragon fish became the Dragon Fish

Gerard S. HoffLeave a comment

Sounds Fishy

Every day, many, many fish are born.

One day a very special fish was born, at least that was what the special fish thought. He felt different.

He was born like all the ordinary fish, but once in his early life, he swam along a shiny coral. The coral was so shiny it worked like a mirror. He could see himself for the first time in his life and saw what we would call a birthmark.

The fish however saw something else (also, he did not know what a birthmark was). He clearly recognized a dragon and instantly realized why he was different; he was a dragon.

From that day on he felt like a dragon and behaved like one and it felt good. His family and friends though, laughed at him and made fun. Although he felt sad about this, he did not change his belief: he was a dragon.

One day his family and friends were swimming together and having fun, when suddenly a big ugly fish, looking for a snack, spotted them. For a big ugly fish, a group of fish is a nice meal, so he went for them, thinking: The more I can get in one bite, the better.

But just before the big fish was about to have his entree, our dragon fish swims fast and furiously towards the big ugly fish and starts blipping and moving like a dragon.

The ugly fish is distracted and moves towards him and eats him with one bite….

…and swims away, leaving the other fish flabbergasted and shocked.

The dragon fish inside the big ugly fish is completely confused and scared in the darkness of the stomach, but alive and with no intention to give up. He starts moving and blipping inside the stomach even more furiously!

The big fish never felt anything like that before and looses his orientation! Not just a bit, but completely. He starts swimming faster and faster, completely disoriented, just to get rid of this disturbing feeling inside and as a result hits a rock. Hard.

So hard, the dragon fish flies out of the stomach and out of the big ugly fish. The big ugly fish itself hits the rock so hard, his skull cracked. And that was the end of the fish.

When our little brave dragon fish is able to see clearly again, he sees his friends and family who gathered around him, cheering and slapping his shoulders with their fins, very happy because he saved their lives!

No more mocking, no more jokes or laughs for the fish that believed he was a dragon. He saved their lives and that was all that mattered. From that day on, they called him Dragon Fish the Hero of the deep sea.

The moral of this fable is that power comes when you believe in it yourself. Without that it’s hard to achieve anything. Because when you don’t believe it yourself, how can you expect somebody else to believe it…

It is very important to start believing you’re a dragon (or anything that matters to you), releasing the enormous power within.

Don’t give up, keep on going and one day, you can become that dragon.

Dragon fish is part of the World of Beast.

Lucky the lazy duck

Gerard S. HoffLeave a comment

WOB2 Duck

Once upon a time there was a very lazy duck.

The duck was so very lazy, she wouldn’t move. She didn’t bother to, because everything happened by itself anyway.

She didn’t need to swim, because she floated in the water. The wind would blow her in any direction and for her that was fine. There was always something interesting to see and if not, well then she waited until the wind blew her somewhere else.

Food wasn’t a problem either because there was duckweed everywhere. The only thing she needed to do was put her beak in the water and the duckweed would float in.

Occasionally she had a treat, when a beetle or another small insect was lost and wandered its way into her beak. Those were absolute feasts!

Life was good, except for the hunters that came by now and then. And when the other ducks fled or got shot, which happened now and then, the whole duck-community was mourning for days about it.

The lazy duck just stayed put, not moving a centimeter. She had a philosophy about hunters: When you don’t see them, they won’t see you, so she just closed her eyes.

Somehow it worked, because she hadn’t been shot yet. The other ducks started to call her Lucky. Lucky the Duck.

Life went on and the summer became autumn and the duck stayed lazy. The autumn became winter and the duck stayed lazy, never moving a flipper.

Then the pond froze and while the other ducks kept moving around to keep the water from freezing, Lucky the Duck didn’t move. Slowly the ice froze around her and she was stuck in the ice and that was the first time she got scared.

She quacked and quacked until the other ducks came and picked the ice away around her body, so she was free again!

She decided to change her life and stay with the other ducks, who kept swimming to keep the ice open. But because the other ducks did the moving anyway, Lucky quickly fell back into her old pattern of being lazy and not moving.

Winter became spring, and spring became summer and life went on as always until one day the hunters came. Lucky sat where she sat and closed her eyes. She was sure she would not be seen by the hunters….

This time Lucky wasn’t so lucky, she got hit!

Small bullets penetrated her feathers and into her body and that really hurt! Fortunately it wasn’t too severe, just very painful. In shock she opened her eyes and saw the hunter right in front of her.

Now because she hadn’t swam for all these years, she not only had become a fat duck, she also forgot how to paddle her feet. Motionless she was floating in the water. She could see the hunter right in the eyes and it was terrifying. The hunter reloaded his shotgun,and aimed at the duck.

In a flash, just before he could pull the trigger, Lucky remembered she was a duck and the only thing connected to the fact that she remembered she was a duck, was how to duck. So without any hesitation, she took a deep breath and ducked. Dove into the water.

Under water she heard the bang of the shotgun from a distance and saw the small bullets entering the water, just missing her by centimeters.

When she came back up to the surface, the hunter was reloading the gun again and Lucky felt a strange electric sensation in her head, right where she believed her brain was.

Suddenly she remembered how to swim and that is what she did. Some ducks say the only thing visible of Lucky was a trail of splashing water, right before she remembered how to fly. Others didn’t see her at all.

The fact is, she got away with just a few broken feathers and some scratches. The only thing that was hurt was her ego. Right then and there, she decided never to be lazy again.

The moral of this story of course is that it is important to keep moving: physically but also mentally. Stay in shape and be open to learn new things. Without moving we forget our potential and possibilities.

We won’t be prepared for any ‘danger’ crossing our path, but neither will we be ready for an opportunity, sometimes simply because we don’t recognize it.

And Lucky? Well, she changed her name to happy and became one of the best swimmers in the pond.

 

 

Lucky the lazy duck is a fable and part of the World of Beast.

 

ROOSTAR

Gerard S. HoffLeave a comment

ROOSTAR

Once upon a time there was a rooster who found himself to be the best looking rooster in the world. In fact he liked to think of himself as a roostar.

Not only did he admire his cockscomb, the colours and shine of his feathers, but he also loved his voice. His ‘cock-a-doodle-doo’ was the best sounding cock-a-doodle-doo ever.

He knew how to pronounce in it in English, but also mastered the French ‘cocorico’, the Dutch ‘kukeleku’ and the German sound of a rooster ‘kikeriki’.

The rooster lived in a coop with exactly eighteen hens. Eight of the hens were in love with the handsome rooster.and ten were not. As a result only the eggs of the first eight were fertilized and the others weren’t.

The rooster wasn’t happy with this. He was happy with his offspring, but wanted more. He did not understand why the other ten hens were not attracted to him.

One day after doing one of the best sounding cock-a-doodle-doo’s ever, he went to the pond and watched his reflection in the water. Still bothered with the ten hens that weren’t in love with him, he decided he needed to become even more beautiful. And better sounding.

That’s where he started. First he learned the Spanish Quiquiriquíííííííí, Czech kikirikí and kykyryký, the Italian chicchirichì, the Portuguese cocorococó and even the Japanese: コケコッコー(Kokekokkoo).

Then he started working on his appearance using pieces of cloth and paint and even tape. He brushed his comb by rubbing it in the damp grass, making it shinier than ever before.

After that he went back to the pond and was very satisfied. He decided to stride back to the chicken coop, making all his sounds, convinced all hens would fall for him immediately.

And they fell.

Well, three of them did. They were literally shocked to death. The other 15 were so nauseated by his appearance and sounds they ran away, never to return.

As it happened to be, 2 farms down the road, a very ugly rooster lived with no hens. His eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw the procession of 15 hens and he almost fainted when they asked if they could stay.

And the roostar? Well, he took a ‘sabbatical’, now works in a circus and is actually very happy.

The moral of course is that it is better to stay who you are and be happy with what you have.
The problem often is that because you are who you are, and know what you know, and do what you do, you can become either bored or under-(or not)-appreciated by yourself.

We’re somehow ‘programmed’ to constantly aspire change and forget to reflect on what we have and appreciate it or rediscover things we already had, but forgot. That way we can start to re-appreciate. Anyway, dressing up to look even better is bound for an over-the-top-statement.

So re-appreciate, or go work in a circus. That is all I have to say about it.

 

Rooster is part of the World of Beast-series and a fable.