Jump Day!

Dear Reader,

When was the last time you took a leap of faith in your life, without being sure of how things would work out? Maybe you have taken that leap several times, or maybe you never have. Maybe you are contemplating such a leap right now.

And how did you know it was time to leap? Was there a knowing somewhere deep inside? Maybe your rational mind wasn’t sure, but you had a feeling in your gut, or your chest, or your head. Maybe it was as if there was an inner voice calling to you, telling you it was time.

Why am I focusing on what it means to take a leap of faith today?

Because today is “Jump Day!”

If you are a wood duck fan, you are familiar with Jump Day, but if not, let me explain. Wood ducks, found only in North America, are one of the few species of duck that nests in trees, usually near water. Every year in late May, within twenty-four hours of hatching, the mother duck goes to the ground below the nest and calls to her babies. When they hear the call, they jump from the nest, which may be up to sixty-five feet above the ground.

The problem is – they can’t fly yet!

They plummet to the ground, bounce, get their bearings, and follow their mother into the water. The mother waits for all of the babies to join her, and off they swim to a new life.

We watched this miracle happen today. It was one of the most amazing encounters with nature I have ever experienced.

Louise and I live in the woods of Maine, on the shore of a small lake. We see a lot of wildlife around our house, including bald eagles, a great blue heron, and many different kinds of ducks. This morning, at around 10:00 A.M., Louise shouted that something might be happening with the wood ducks.

The mother duck was on the shore, calling to her babies. We rushed to the porch window, and as we watched, a baby duck landed splat on it’s back on the porch! It lay there, stunned, for a few moments, then struggled, righted itself, and jumped the remaining six feet to the ground. But even as that baby scrambled to the edge of the porch, another fell, and another. Thump. Thump.

It was literally raining baby ducks!

We rushed to another window, and watched them scramble, roll and waddle through the leaves toward their mother, literally learning how to walk as they went. After the first three joined her, she moved to the water a few feet away. The three we had seen hit the porch (which thankfully is made of springy wood, rather than cement) rushed to catch up.

It wasn’t over.

As the mother duck and six babies swam out from the shore, Louise looked back at the porch. I heard one more thump. Louise cried, “Oh, that had to hurt!” The last chick to jump had hit its head on the railing before landing on the porch. As we cheered it on, somehow, the final baby found its way over the edge and to the ground, where it sat, stunned.

We held our breath.

Was it ok? Would it get left behind?

The mother and the rest of the babies swam anxiously back and forth as it remained motionless in the leaves. Suddenly, with a start, it scrambled off toward the water, faster than any of the others had moved! Without hesitation, the plucky little thing plunged into the water. Once joined by the last straggler, the family swam off gracefully, together again.

I felt so fortunate to see this ritual. It was pure, and bold, and deeply moving in its beauty.

But aren’t we humans just as bold? Don’t we also courageously leap into the unknown, despite our fragility? The only problem is that we often over complicate matters for ourselves, in a way that wood ducks probably don’t.

We over think. We second-guess. We doubt. We entertain all of our fears, and talk ourselves out of taking action. Hopefully, we leap anyway.

Maybe we all need to be a little more like wood ducks and, when we hear the call, when we get a feeling that the time is now – even if we don’t have it all figured out yet – just have faith, and leap.

Dear reader, think back to one of those times when you took a leap of faith. What did it feel like? Take the time to remember those feelings, and even recreate them now for yourself. Moving forward, those feelings may well become your greatest teacher.

Today, on Jump Day, I honor your great courage, your beautiful fears, and all the dreams that call you to leap anyway.

I honor your loving heart,

John