Sometimes there is something to be said for doing a bit more research on a proposed project. When I was researching pigs, there were many images of well behaved pigs obediently following their “people”. Had I dug a little deeper, I would have realized that the pigs I had been looking at were show pigs not the main course. Show pigs are scrubbed clean and paraded around a ring and judged for money; like getting ready for a job interview. Sort of.
We don’t judge our pigs. We see them each for what they offer, namely bacon, sausage and pork chops. I think they must have a sense that we don’t have long term commitment and that is why they put up a fuss when we had to move them to a new pen. It’s either that or maybe they are more like kids than I thought. Sometimes you have to push and prod to get them to where you want them to be and in both cases, that gets mucky.
I am truly aghast that I ordered pigs without any meaningful research. I just looked at the pictures and thought “how hard can this be?”. Ignorance is not bliss, it is stupidity. How stupid to think that just because I had a bucket of food, the pigs would follow.
To successfully move pigs, you need patience. You also can’t yell at them. They don’t like yelling. They like to be gently nudged. They like to quietly move at their own pace when they feel it is safe and convenient. Kind of like my husband.
Of course, we didn’t know this when we started. We started with a more assertive approach. Actually, it was Wayne that started it. His idea was to crouch down like a sumo wrestler and spread his arms out wide. I think he thought by spreading his arms out, the pigs would feel the urge to be herded and as they herded, he could reach down and grab one. That’s not what happened. Pigs are faster than you think. I will also share that pig manure does not wash easily out of clothes.
A new approach was needed. We needed the full family for a five on four full court press. In case you were wondering, we were the five; the pigs were the four. Although we had the advantage of height and numbers, they had us on weight and unwillingness.
The first hour was a bust and no matter what we tried, we mainly just ended up yelling and blaming each other. The end game was to get them to move a mere 300 feet. The reward would be that they would have new grass to graze, trees to chomp and even a pool. OK, it was a pond but whatever. We were offering an upgrade but they were still keen to stay in the studio apartment with the bad plumbing and no view.
It was fear. I get that. Change is courage in action and that even applies for pigs. Sometimes, in order to make change, you need a team to get behind you to push and guide you. Lucky me, I got to get behind the pigs with a large piece of plywood. My role was to gently “push”. I also had to speak quietly and nice to them. I told them about their new home and the new pool. As I talked, I gently moved them forward. This was second nature to me; 23 years of being a mom finally paid off. I am now a “pig whisperer”. I am not sure if this is worthy of celebration or a shot of whiskey.
Everyone had to be still. One sudden move would cause chaos. Megan and Owen held hockey sticks to create an illusion of fence lines or borders. Aiden held out food as the overarching incentive and Wayne held the gate open to the promised land. It was all going great until it wasn’t.
Wilbur was the leader. As soon as we “pushed” too much, he sensed it and led the revolt and bolted! Pigs went wild, running through the electric fence, crashing through the garden and charging out onto the driveway. Four pigs on the run. One step forward, two steps back and how the hell do you capture pigs on the run?
While the rest of the family was back to yelling, I was ok by the chaos. After all, this was just an extension of the dance of motherhood. You talk nicely, you gently push and just when you think you are making progress, there is a revolt and you have to start again. What’s interesting about the pigs is that they didn’t want “freedom”, they wanted security. How’s that for a great life metaphor? I couldn’t believe how easy it was to get them back to their beginning. They gravitated to what they knew and was comfortable. I get you Bacon. I like comfortable too. It’s that stretching to the promised land that freaks me out. What if the brochure is a lie and the “pool” is really a “pond”?
It took three hours but they finally passed through the gates and found their new home. It was exhausting. Also, being charged by four pigs is something I never even thought to imagine. Did I mention it’s hard to wash out pig manure?
The pigs found their happy place. They have dug their own mud puddles and then waddle into the pool (ok, pond) to cool off. I know their destiny is the freezer and I kind of feel bad. I wouldn’t have thought that pigs are cute but they are. They like having their ears rubbed. They like nuzzling their nose into the palm of my hand. They like to run and then flop. Each of them have such distinct characteristics. I see why it is bad to name them. There is going to come a day when we have to slit their throats. I feel that Shakespeare would have a field day with our duplicity. “Here pigs….come swim in the swimming pool; bathe in the mud, indulge in the green, green grass, come sit by me while I hold up a knife…..”. Talk about a dystopian tale of epic proportion.
And so it is. Much like life. Taking chances on moving forward. It’s easier to take chances when people stand behind us. So many life experiences are kept in silos. How many challenges do we face alone for fear of asking for help? Does anyone else have dark thoughts that they are afraid to reveal because they don’t want to “burden” anyone? There is a need for courage to take the next step to get the house with the pool but also to ask for help and see if someone will stand behind us to help push us forward.
Brene Brown says “we can’t be brave in the big world without at least one small safe space to work through our fears and falls“. We need safe spaces. I saw that with the pigs and I see it in myself. My safe space needs to be the people that care about me and SEE me. It is super hard being vulnerable and saying “I fucked up“, “I don’t know the next step“, “I don’t know if I can” and likely the biggest one which is “what if I can’t?” Moving and changing is paralyzing. This is where the demons can get you unless you are willing to reach out for a way up. But we have to speak out when we need the lift up. Yes, another call for courage.
Our pigs hold space in our lives. It is so easy to spend time with them and enjoy them for who they are. Who wants to “fix” a pig and make them “better”? They are perfect the way they are. I can’t believe that I am saying this but it is so easy to spend countless moments just watching them BE pigs. I’ve likely lost my mind but maybe gained perspective.
I wonder what it might be like to let go of the armor and all the everything that holds us back from making change. It’s time to find the place with a pool (not a pond) and stretch through the unknowingness.
With love for all who take the next steps, even if it means getting a bit muddy.
Shelley
And Then I Jumped...... 