Are You a Zebra or a Peacock?

Zebras, close relatives of the donkey, are a lot like people in some ways. The famous stripes of the zebra don’t do much for him when he’s out in the open. However, when a zebra is sensing a threat, he will move in closer to its herd. Once he’s surrounded by other zebras, his markings break up his shape and silhouette, making it harder for a predator to identify a single animal. The zebra hides by blending in and looking like all the other zebras around him. He seeks safety by being inconspicuous. I think a lot of us act much the same way.

A peacock, on the other hand, does the exact opposite. Instead of blending in and trying to stay hidden in the face of danger, the peacock will courageously emerge as conspicuously as possible, with colorful feathers in full display. He does this to distract the threat from the other birds and give his family, the hen and the chicks, a chance to escape and flee to safety. He understands his mission and heroically executes it. There is no room for blending in and remaining inconspicuous.

As a zebra tries to blend in to the herd during an attack, he is essentially diluting his personal risk evenly among the herd. While this may mitigate his own danger, in doing so he compromises the safety and security of those around him. The peacock, in contrast, as he boldly steps out into the open to command the attention of the would-be assailant, greatly increases his own risk to ensure the safety of those around him. This world is full of striped jackasses; be a peacock.

Comments

Toxic Humility

We have all seen false humility: the guy who tries to hide his arrogance with feigned modesty. It’s usually pretty obvious and always obnoxious. But there is also another variation of false humility out there: toxic humility. This is often displayed in self-deprecating talk and a lack of self-confidence, belittling or undermining one’s own talents and abilities. The danger in this kind of behavior is twofold: it is too often accepted as true humility and like a virus, it spreads doubt and disbelief. To clarify, it is not that the bearer of this toxic humility isn’t honest about his view of himself. That is the very issue: he absolutely believes he has little value or utility. He thinks downplaying his own worth is humility but I disagree. CS Lewis said it best when he wrote, “Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it's thinking about yourself less.” His point being, true humility is not an ever-present raincloud of self-doubt that follows you around. It’s a focus on...

The Art of Intentionality

“Intentional living is the art of making our own choices before others’ choices make you.” – Richie Norton I am not even sure who Richie Norton is, but I love that quote! I imagine a ship drifting out to sea, pushed around by the wind and the waves. No course of direction, yet the captain is frustrated when the ship ends up dashed against the rocks, trapped on a sandbar or marooned on an inhospitable island. It is easy to complain when life takes us where we do not want to go. But who is really to blame if we have never set our sails to align us along an appropriate course? Do we blame the waves, wind and the weather? Or should we blame the captain of the ship? It is our life and our ship. We must set our sails with intentionality and determined choices. Otherwise, we are doomed to aimlessly drift along according to the choices and decisions of others.

Last Chance

This morning I was running on the treadmill with an empty treadmill right beside me. This is nothing out of the ordinary since I intentionally plan my workouts at times when the gym is not busy. However, this time that empty treadmill meant much more than just a slow time at the gym. About three weeks ago I was on the same treadmill as I was this morning, and my friend J was on the treadmill beside me. I was cooling down from my workout and just able to catch my breath enough to chat with J for a while. We shared a couple of laughs, talked about some struggles, and then went our separate ways. How was I to know that would be the last time I would ever see him? Three nights ago, I received a text that J had passed away earlier that evening. J is a big, strong guy in his mid-40s, and his passing came as a complete shock. I sat on the couch in stunned silence as I digested the tragic news. This morning, the sight of that empty treadmill hit me hard. J will never walk beside me...

Mindset Matters

Search This Blog