“It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for a bird to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.”
C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
C.S. Lewis had it right, as usual.
These are quail eggs from Big Dawg Farms. We currently have nearly 30 quail. In previous years, our flock was much smaller: perhaps four or five birds. Because we had fewer, older females, they tended to stop laying eggs in August or September.
This year, however, we not only have more quail than usual: they are younger. Most were born this past spring. Quail start laying eggs after six weeks and are most prolific until they’re nine months old. After that, they’ll slow down, though one female may still lay up to 200 eggs per year. So, they’ve been providing us with much-appreciated abundance.
We’ve been enjoying this healthy bounty. Each quail egg has only 14 calories. They are loaded with good cholesterol and high in protein. They taste even better than our free range chicken eggs.
They’ve also got me thinking about that C.S. Lewis quote. I’ve spent several years quietly, unhappily, observing the roiling world grow apart. I have watched people I care about distance themselves from others, saying they cannot trust them. Because they don’t agree about the current or former president. Because they are Republicans or Democrats. I’ve not seen divisions because of faith, or race, or sexual identity, oddly enough. But the mindless prejudice against “otherness” that we sought to remove by rejecting those ignorant bases for judgment is alive and distressingly well.
On a larger scale: disagreements are exacerbated because we are so out of balance when it comes to the volume of opinions versus available facts. We have such an awe-inspiring array of information at our fingertips in this amazing age. Yet, unbiased news reporting is astonishingly difficult to find. Instead, an overabundance of opinions and analysis flourishes, cluttering our television and online sites with people shouting each other down to make a (usually predictable) point. So, repulsed, we’re encouraged to retract into groups that reinforce the viewpoints we already have. It’s easier than searching out the information we’d need to engage in disciplined, critical examination of our assumptions in the face of facts that challenge them.
In this era of discord, I’ve been mostly quiet – a good little egg – because that is how I was raised. Do not encourage controversy. Work within the system to change that with which I disagree.
I am beginning to wonder, though, as the public dialogue continues to go further off the rails, if it is time for us quiet folk to speak up, with firmness to make up for our lack of volume. I look at Twitter, and, at times, I see an angry, hate-filled world, filled with despair, that I do not recognize.
It is easy to believe the country and the world are hopelessly divided when we don’t intentionally remind ourselves of our unity. It is easy to believe we live in the worst of times when we do not celebrate our progress.
It is easy to believe we live in scarcity when we take our unprecedented abundance for granted. It is easy to become hopeless when we no longer encourage each other. It is easy to be led into war when we do not treasure and safeguard peace – or remember how many lives were sacrificed to ensure that peace.
It is easy to destroy heroes, past and present, when we insist on perfection in ordinary people who do extraordinary things. We pick apart their achievements and contributions in some misguided quest to comfort ourselves that they too, are flawed. We devalue and negate their fineness rather than become inspired to try to find our own. It’s the wrong approach, don’t you think?
So, those of us who have lived our safe and quiet lives in our little eggs, sheltered from the rancor, removed from the hate that is casting its malignant shadow over the world again: I think we have to hatch, then learn to fly. Otherwise, we are increasingly complicit, quietly going bad in our shells, in misguided reticence.
For my part: I am going to write more this year. With more discipline. More substance. More intent. More focus on sharing the healthy optimism and love I’ve been lucky enough to find. More celebration of the inspiring fineness of people doing extraordinary things to help their fellow man. There is so much joy to be nurtured, so much connectedness not sufficiently reflected and appreciated.
In contrast, I think we need to devalue derision. Public figures need to hear that ridicule is not persuasive. Disrespect neither improves journalism nor demonstrates statesmanship. We remind those who are intoxicated with the seemingly omnipresent rage that anger is born of weakness. Politicians worth voting for, and reporters worth listening to, need to cease hostilities. They need to know that we are aware that loudness does not make up for empty rhetoric. Less opinion masquerading as analysis. More facts.
Pride manifesting as petulance does not lead to progress. History is littered with the disasters caused by intentional, petty divisions. Our leaders are better than this. We are better than this.
So, 2019 is the year I try to consistently add my own small and imperfect voice. No more will I be the contentedly ordinary, decent egg C.S. Lewis points out will eventually go bad. No more neglecting the overdue goal to bring reasonable people together. No more bickering. Yes to more celebrating and encouraging, more highlighting others who inspire. There are more than enough of us who seek consensus out here to make a positive difference.