the joys you can't predict for
"You have to try this!"
My friend's face, pitched with glee, giggling, almost maniacally, led me into a room where he pointed at a box filled with two scores of ducklings.
"Put your head in the box!" He ranted.
I looked at him, bemused.
"I'll show you." He said, as if I hadn't understood the brief.
He lay down and rested his head in the box, giggling. The little ducklings swarmed him, nibbling at his face and hair with their soft little beaks, padding over him with tiny feet. Tumbling, reckless and fluffy.
"Their beaks are so soft, and they are just so fluffy!"
He gently brushed them away from his head, stood up, and pointed at the box.
"Your turn." he said, still grinning, still giggling.
So I lay down and lay my head in the box.
He was not wrong. The beaks were soft and tickled as they nibbled at my face, making the sound that only duckings can make, being fluffy and soft only in the way baby ducklings can. I couldn't help but smile. Then giggle with pure joy.
All in all it was one of the singular most joyous surprises of my life, made all the more surprising because it was so unexpected, so unpredictable. It's not anything I ever would have factored in as being something I wanted to experience in life. But there I was, head in a box of ducklings, giggling gleefully, infused with the enthusiastic innocence of forty tiny ducklings trying to eat my face.
My friend just watched on, giggling.
I giggled back.
We giggled together.
We took it in turn to lay with our heads in the box until we reached the point where we felt we needed to give the ducklings a rest. It wasn't easy to give up an experience that is so joyful, so exquisitely unique and rare, and almost impossible to replicate with any real frequency.
Let's face it, unless you've got access to ducklings on a regular basis it's unlikely this is going to be an experience very often, most likely only the once.
When we embrace the unfolding mystery of life, and all of the potential experiences that we could never predict for, then the potential of sticking your head into a box of ducklings and coming away with an exquisitely unique and joyful memory becomes a very real possibility.
The thing about embracing the unfolding mystery of life though is that once we have an experience like this there is a tendency for us to maybe want to repeat it, and to try and predict ways in which it might happen again. The art of living the unfolding mystery of life is to remember that it is a mystery. As soon as we want something similar to what we've had we're looking for a pattern, we are seeking once again something that is potentially predictable - something, at some level, we might end up desiring or expecting. To live in the mystery is to surrender to not knowing.
Does this mean that we should never seek out ducklings in boxes to stick our heads into? Of course not. Were I ever presented with the opportunity to do that again, I can assure you I wouldn't hesitate. But the bigger lesson for me was to realise that there are experiences in life I have yet to have that no matter how hard I try I will not be able to predict for, and that they have the potential to be the most joyous and enriching experiences I might ever have.
So plan for what you can plan for, but always remember what potential lives in the unknown.
