A parliament of owls. A shrewdness of apes. A paddling of ducks. I pass this last group of animals on my walks, but these ducks have no feathers. They are plastic and play at a quiet intersection near my house.
Okay, these ducks don’t play; someone plays with them. One day, the four yellow duckies stand in a row on one side of the road, and the bigger white duck sits across the street looking at them. Another day, the entire paddling plays in the tulips. Then there was the time when a single little ducky was under a lilac bush, while the rest of the paddling paraded along the curb. It was a plastic tableau of loneliness.
I can’t wait to see what the ducks will be doing each day when I walk by with my dogs, and because they have now been in all four yards at the intersection, I can’t figure out who is doing this. More importantly, I can’t figure out why.
Why is a small word that packs a heckuva wallop. As toddlers, we ask it over and over to figure out how the world works. You have to brush your teeth. Why? A fish swims in the ocean. Why? Beets taste like dirt. Why?
The word follows us throughout our lives. It is often our cry in the hardest trials and deepest miseries. Why are you ending it with me? Why did I get sick? Why do bad things happen to good people?
Sometimes, there is no answer, and asking the question over and over again can drive you mad.
Sometimes, finding the answer is crucial. Why are you here? For what purpose? Viktor Frankl, an Austrian psychiatrist who survived four concentration camps in WWII, found that one of the differences between those who survived the camps and those who didn’t was a sense of purpose, a sense of meaning. They had a why to live for.
And why you do what you do—your motivation—matters. The very same act can make your insides feel luminous or like sludge, all because of your why. Do you do something because you are afraid or as an outpouring of love? Is it self-serving or noble, cruel or kind, petty or whimsical?
Take the paddling of ducks. If you had a persnickety neighbor who annoyed you, you could move those ducks around that neighbor’s yard to make his a$$ chew gum. If your neighbor was sick and stuck in a chair by the window, moving those ducks here and there could bring that person joy and delight. Same act. Different motivations.
Finding a why will keep you from feeling dry. If it takes a while to find one, be patient. When you figure it out, be committed. Be passionate. Ask for help. Do things that scare you now and then, and don’t forget to play.
Oh, and don’t let the sleuth of bears get you.