The Chicken & The Shark

In Their Eyes Were Watching God, Zora Neale Hurston writes, “There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” I am grateful to be in a year that answers.

One or two years ago, I dreamed that a shark fin was circling me and a chicken. And I kept feeling so scared but also grateful that the shark didn't eat the chicken. But then the shark ate the chicken right before my eyes. I kept begging the shark not to eat the chicken, but it did and it was horrific—the chicken squawked the whole time. I woke up so upset, because the strange (or stranger) part was that I was both the shark and the chicken in the dream.

No, I did not just watch Moana.

There are two different, often feuding parts of myself. There is the "Shark" many of my relatives and childhood friends know: since being a pre-teen, I adored work, often having two jobs, service leadership projects, and school. I loved to work and lead service projects. I wasn't fond of school and could have performed better there, but I was often frustrated, oversimulated, and just didn't like it. I was "too busy" for "pointless" tasks; I had protests, work hours, and Rehab for Humanity to attend on Saturdays - who had time to double-check a silly homework assignment? This was, of course, frustrating to my parents, but by the time I was 16, they had enough of driving me from place to place and fighting with me about my priorities, so we got my license (it took three tries) and a small car, and they allowed me to live my life, haha!

They supported and comforted me when I bit more than I could chew and became incredibly burnt out and a puddle of mess in my room. That was the pattern: I would work and compete hard for a job or opportunity, work even harder to hit and surpass every goal, become overstretched, lose sleep, overwork, become irritable, and overconsumed with ambition, and try my hardest to be everything to everyone. Then, I would burn out (never quitting) and need complete isolation and my parents' love and care. I still admire the way that they were able to parent and love me. Now, I have my sweet husband, who has been caring for the burnt-out Shark for the last twenty-something years.

This summer, I went to Cincinnati, my childhood home, and in very good spirits, someone joked about how she couldn't believe I was "frolicking in nature all day.” It seemed so far from who she thought I would be. It was funny, so I giggled, not wanting to dive into my educational philosophies and goals. It would be "too Shark," and I was too excited to introduce her to the other side of myself.

Because these two sides of myself rarely exist at the same time, she hadn't met the side of myself that I often present on this page. The Chicken is who I am in the classroom, during my brief time as a SAHM, and slow traveling in the trailer. She takes life slowly, cares deeply about the ones in her circle ⭕️, bakes/paints/reads for fun, and knows how to be still and present. I honestly feel like Chicken is my best self. And if I could, I would live in this way of being. But for some reason, I never can, and the Shark always eats the Chicken.

But you know what? For the first time in years, perhaps the first time in my life, thanks to the help of my loving village and my one-on-one work with Coach Dina (a life coach, nutritionist, and personal trainer), I am going to use one side of myself to fuel the other and vice versa, creating harmony in my pursuit of Shalom.

Hear me out:

I am learning authentic humility and surrender and how to make it my ambition (Shark) to lead a quiet (Chicken) life and work with my hands. I am exhausted from the feuding and the control, so now, I am resting in my Creator's vision, not my own. Learning how to be direct and honest about myself while also discovering how the Shark protects the Chicken and how the Chicken sustains the Shark.

In other words, I am working hard to live quietly, slowly, and gently to create, build, and do the work before me. This quiet is fueled by humility. As Coach Dina says, I had to brain train and through self talk, I realized how much ego and pride fuel my pace and movement. When I find myself overthinking, becoming overwhelmed, or getting negative about a decision or an interaction, I surrender it to God, knowing that I am not the Creator, nor do I have the power to redo it. Daily, moment-by-moment, I surrender relationships, moments, outcomes, and thoughts. I am learning how a quiet life can fuel and sustain my creativity and ambition and how my work ethic isn't something that has to prohibit me from living a slow and gentle life; it can be used to create it.

In August, through my inner work and the work of Gather Forest School and GrassRoots Middle, I am experiencing a sense of Shalom that I thought was impossible unless I lived in our little pandemic bubble or traveled in the camper. I will continue to update you on my journey toward Shalom + Polepole, but y'all, it's taking a lot of discipline to find harmony between the Shark and the Chicken...

Shalom, Friends!

Shelby