how to train a peanut

February 2nd, 2012

I’ve trained a bluejay, out of my own delight, to perch like a cat outside my door.

He doesn’t want me to sprout wings and fly. He can fly.

He doesn’t want a song and dance. He has a song.

He has a dance.

He wants a peanut. That, I can do.

For Jena Strong.

6 Comments »

  1. A peanut I can do.

    And because Peanut is also Pearl’s nickname, now our bluejay will remind me that my kids don’t need a song and dance, either. They already have wings, and a song, and a dance. Thank you, Maezen. I love you.

    Comment by Jena — February 2, 2012 @ 1:22 pm

  2. A simple truth.

    Comment by Bobbi — February 3, 2012 @ 1:38 am

  3. In the less-is-more department, you have hit it out of the park. Don’t even know why I love this so much. I just do.

    Comment by Katrina Kenison — February 3, 2012 @ 3:50 am

  4. Someone dear to me lost his job in a very traumatic way. He doesn’t live close enough for visits, so we call and skype. At first I talked a lot about the outrage and the injustice. I interrupted his story to ask questions. And then, finally, I listened. He drew his own conclusions, he reflected, came to his own insights. I didn’t have to do anything but listen? Really? The peanut was a tiny thing, which I found buried under all of my own baggage.

    Comment by Dawn — February 3, 2012 @ 7:50 am

  5. And if the creature outside my door does not know what it wants, whatever shall I give?

    Comment by MJ — February 4, 2012 @ 11:28 am

  6. Attention. Then you’ll know.

    Comment by Karen Maezen Miller — February 4, 2012 @ 11:48 am

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