There is an old joke about a bird failing to plan one winter. I have seen it in various forms over the years. The essentials are a late departure for the southern migration, a bird iced up and crashing, a less-than-respectful cow dropping manure on it, and a short-lived celebration of revival interrupted by the cat who consumes the bird.
Each rendition I have seen includes various lessons the reader should glean: plan better, know when to remain silent, etc.
The primary lesson, however, is understanding that not everyone who does something untoward (manure) is necessarily your enemy. In the story, it is the unexpected manure that brings relief from the cold, revival, and recovery. This parable came back to me in a recent conversation with a young lawyer who lamented the reaction of an aged and decrepit old person (in their 40s, no less) regarding a legal filing.
This young lawyer was hurt (an understatement). They had been embarrassed and felt ridiculed. The admonition in the ancient's (I reiterate, 40s is hardly "old") reaction, correction, and consternation. The entire focus was on emotion. It was all about the younger lawyer.
It took all I had not to revert to the all-too-familiar "snowflake" characterization. It is an easy trope to simply cast today's youth as unable or unwilling to weather criticism. The world of young professionals in 2025 is far different than any I have ever lived in. I lament their shortcomings and seeming fragility. I also will candidly admit that examples of such youth have existed forever; we just did not discuss them so openly and often.
I told the young lawyer about the bird, the ice, the manure, and the cat. I relate the story a bit differently from the version linked above and usually conclude with two main points:
Those who crap on you are not necessarily your enemy, and those who dig you out are not necessarily your friends.
I encouraged this professional to strive to find positivity in every reaction or interaction. Look for the lesson. Rather than lamenting the criticism of a filing (by opposing counsel, senior partner, judge, or client), strive to push down the emotion, embarrassment, or chagrin. Lament and vent, but then find time to ponder the response. Find a path to view it objectively. Find a way to make it a growth path.
No, this will not necessarily make you feel better. Yes, the object may still be in your rearview periodically (after it quits being there constantly). But if you elect to find a lesson in the rebuke, criticism, or shortfall, you can find a path that does not include repeating that stumble, shortfall, or failure.
The alternatives are to bow up, argue, or simply withdraw. Any of these might be the best path in some instances (pick your battles). But the path of learning, growing, and improving will bear more fruit. Failure can exact a significant price. Your reaction to it can trade that price for a better tomorrow, or can merely transform it into a bitter pill that sits in your stomach and rots.
The good news is that you may choose. Go shout at the partner who eviscerated your memo. File an acidic motion for rehearing. Shout at your opponent and vow revenge! Or, remembering the unsung bovine hero in the bird parable, tend to yourself and recover. Be better situated for the next time. Grow.
It is not about the cow's intent. Is the partner inspiring me? Does the partner hate me? Is the judge demeaning me? Take the criticism as an opportunity to learn how to do better next time.
There are many life lessons. In my experience, and now lamenting my 40s are well past, the easy ones were never worth as much as the crashes into the barnyard. Cow manure might be an insult or perhaps merely fertilizer for next year's crop.
Think on it.
