Letting in the Magpies

One for sorrow, two for joy

 Why is it that the way I feel about that superstition always changes, depending on the amount of magpies that happen to be in front of me at the time? When there is one magpie, I’m convinced it’s a load of rubbish, and also kind of resentful that a magpie is no longer allowed to just be a nice magpie, no strings attached. I mean, what did the magpies ever do to us? On the other hand, when there are two magpies in front of me, somehow I’m much more willing to believe that it’s a good sign, that something nice is coming up.

 And it always annoys me that somehow, you’re much more likely to see one magpie than two.

 The more magpies the better, though, right? I mean, you can never have too many of our lovely black and white friends. Okay, so they do have that annoying habit of stealing all our shiny things, and you probably wouldn’t want them pooing everywhere either, but that’s not really the point.

 Lately, the whole magpie thing has kind of become a philosophy of mine for life. Because whether you want it or not, life is full of magpies. And whether you want it or not, sometimes they come in pairs, and sometimes they come alone. And sometimes, there is a magpie flying around alone, and then it meets another magpie flying about on its own. And suddenly there’s two.

 And without one magpie – and whatever it brings with it – you can’t get two.

 At the same time, then, there always has to be that worry, that for every two magpies, one of them is going to fly off, and you’ll be stuck with that one for sorrow.

So then, imagine if you get so scared, that you decide to get rid of all the magpies. You don’t have any pairs of magpies left, but there aren’t any single ones left, either. It’s safer that way.

 And you hide, and you live a simple, magpie-less life. No joy, but no sorrow, either. Just days, one after the other, for as many days as you’re meant to have.

I wonder just how many people there are in the world, who fear the magpies so much that they block out all of them entirely. It’s easier than you’d think. The less you have, the less you have to lose. And it’s all too easy, when things get too much, to block out your feelings; the pain, the happiness, everything that’s out of your control.

 I wonder how many people fear the magpies so much, that they forget to live.

 (Maybe I’m one of them.)

  There’s already been way too many magpies to even count in today’s post, but bear with me.

 A life without magpies sucks. It’s a life with no meaning, a flat, lonely life. But it’s difficult, when you’re in that safe cocoon of okay-ness, of every day ticking along neatly, to start taking risks again.

 Because that’s the thing about those magpies. For every two for joy, there’s that one for sorrow. For every high, there’s going to be a low. Because the more you let into your life, the more fun you have, the more people get close to you… well, the more you have the potential to lose. The more plans can go badly wrong, the more people rely on you, the more people’s problems become yours, too.

 And that’s difficult to take, sometimes.

 But it’s worth it, too. And sometimes, you just have to accept the magpies of life, in whatever shape they might come.

 The thing is, it works the other way, too. For every one for sorrow, there is another magpie around the corner, ready to turn one into two for joy. And in the same way, when life does take a bad turn, if you’ve let them in, there’ll be people around, friends and family and people who care about you, ready to support you.

 Letting in the magpies takes a lot of strength, but you CAN do it. And what’s more, you HAVE to – because life should be full of magpies, full of sorrow and joy, and you deserve yours to be. You can do it.

 I hope this made sense to some of you – it was really hard to articulate somehow, probably because of all the magpie metaphors! – but hopefully the message came through, anyway J