Getting No Satisfaction

A few days ago I was doing a little yardwork when I was startled by a sharp metallic tat-tat-tat noise above my head. Backing away, I noticed a red-headed woodpecker pecking away at the aluminum rain gutter beneath the eave of the house. Not the wisest use of his time, I suggested.

Ten minutes later, another set of tat-tat-tats snagged my attention, but this time they were more like thud-thud-thuds. The same woodpecker was diligently working on a wooden fence post this time and obviously still getting no satisfaction. I hollered over to him that we were surrounded by real trees; maybe he would have more success shopping for breakfast if he actually went to the correct grocery store.

When the scorching Florida sun finally got to me and I was gathering my gardening tools to call it a morning, I noticed the clueless woodpecker attempting to ram his poor overworked beak into a concrete light pole. I guess there’s good reason my granny told me to quit being such a birdbrain. I suspect this little fella’s brain was jolted and rattled enough when he used his beak as God intended, much less in ways it was never intended.

Reminds me of the day twenty years ago when I observed a woodpecker outside my window on a huge oak, systematically pecking his way down a dead limb. I had just begun my writing career and had collected my first maddening 10 rejection notices from publishers. I commented to Spouse, “Why would anyone bang his head repeatedly against a solid surface when the outcome produces nothing?” His reply: “I don’t know; why do writers do it?”

Point taken.

I suppose we all spend far too much time pecking away at nonproductive endeavors that we think will produce satisfaction and fulfillment, only to realize, in the throes of a doozy of a jarring headache, that we don’t get no satisfaction (nod to Mick Jagger) and only accumulate frustration instead of fulfillment.

So how do we discern what’s the best use of our time, talents, and abilities? If we’re going to ram our beaks into something, how do we know it’s got potential for productivity and growth? That it might actually turn into something fulfilling and God-honoring (I like to think my 40+ books fall into that category) if we persevere regardless of setbacks and failures when the tree turns out to be concrete?

I have my own theories on this, but I’d love to hear your thoughts, dear BFFs (Blessed Friends Forever). What has helped you discern which life endeavors are worth your time, energy, and endurance, and which aren’t?

Happy hugs for a good week!     ~Deb