Marked By an Owl

“Tell us something interesting about you. Tell us something that no one knows.” Marilyn, the Corporate Team Building Facilitator prodded. She really leaned into the prompt. It seemed to Marta that Marilyn was sending out strong Barbara Walters vibes. If Marilyn was hoping to summon tears, she’d be disappointed.

Uggh. Team building ice breaker activities were the bane of Marta’s existence. Reactively, she gave the sleeve of her sweater a strong downward tug. She was not anti-social. It was just that this type of thing felt a little-- ahem-- a lot forced. Still, she was new on the job, so it may be best to play along. She just hoped that Marilyn did not ask them what type of tree they thought they would be.

Her company was on a ‘Rustic Renewal Retreat’ at the Quadna Lodge in Northern Minnesota. Marta was on the graphic design team at Roberts and Jefferson Inc. The whole team had made the non-stop four hour journey north on a charter bus equipped with the most Lilliputian bathroom imaginable. What type of sadist designed that?

It was clear that this crew did not get out of the city often. On the ride up, once they’d gotten just north of Hinckley, the complaints on the cell phone service issues grew louder and more frequent.

Between the bathroom and cell service issues, ‘Rustic Renewal’ was bringing the team together alright. This experience was serving to unite the clan in general contempt for this coerced bonding.

The job search had been tougher than she’d imagined. She’d moved back to Minnesota after several years of living in Boston. The cost of living there had been astronomical. Ultimately, this fact had made her home state seem like a greener pasture. She had only been on the job a few weeks, but so far, it was proving to be better than she could have imagined. The work was just the right mix of challenging and fun.

Life on the east coast had been an adventure, but truth be told, she was happy to be home. She’d never really belonged there. It was a relief to use her Minnesota accent without the constant reminder that she sounded just like those people in the movie Fargo. She could drag out her long o’s with unchecked and blissfully unnoticed abandon.

More important than that, she’d missed her family. She was ready to be home.

The Quadna Lodge was what could be called “Rustic Chic.” A tasteful mix of logs and luxury, Marta looked out on the sparkling lake and took a deep breath. It was gorgeous here.

What should she share with these people? It was not that Marta lacked for interesting personal details, it was rather that she had the opposite problem.

If she came out with her prized jewel of a story, she feared that they’d have a hard time seeing her as a mere mortal. That had certainly been the case in elementary school. It was in those years, she’d found that long sleeves helped her to keep a lower profile.

Early on, Marta had learned to become guarded. She’d continued this habit well into adulthood. Loneliness was the result. Marta was ready for a change.

Marta figured she should read the room and wait to see what others shared before she committed to her personal kernel of interest. She was good at watching. She tended to listen more than talk. This instinct had served her well on many occasions, but often she felt isolated and solitary as an unintended consequence of her reserved habits.

The group was seated in a large circle. Their assigned group facilitator, Marilyn, repeated her sharing directive. “Where shall we begin? Anyone feeling bold?”

Lloyd Martin was the first to make his offering. Marta noticed subtle waves of eye rolls exchanged among her co-workers. Lloyd Martin did a lot of personal sharing. It did not take long on the job to catch this.

“Well,” Lloyd began dramatically. “The thing that you may not know about me is that not only am I an Eagle Scout, but I also invented a new kind of cheese.”

Here, he scanned the crowd eagerly looking to expound on the follow up questions he seemed to expect would come from the crowd with the ferocity you’d expect at a presidential press conference.

If Lloyd was disappointed in the silence, he was just oblivious or delusional enough not to let it show.

“That’s right, a new kind of cheese. You’re all in luck. I’ve brought enough to share. You can all expect something very special with our dinner tonight,” Lloyd called out magnanimously.

“Oh goody,” Ben Bridges, who sat just to Marta’s left, whispered to her.

Ben and Marta were going to get along just fine.

The unfortunately named Rick Astley said, “Despite what you all may think, I am not a singer. I will give you up. I will let you go. I will say goodbye. In fact, I will run around and desert you.”

This delivery brought on a good five minutes of laughter from the crowd. Marilyn looked smug. Marta could not begrudge her this moment. Here they all were-- bonding. Laughter felt good. It brought the tension and inhibitions down.

Leave it to Rick Astley to turn the tide. Despite his protests, Marta sensed he would never give them up.

“You know the rules, and so do I,” Ben Bridges sang out.

Marta really liked that guy. She’d have to think more about that later.

Sharon Bennett spoke up next. “ I once slept overnight in the Great Pyramid.”

“That’s fantastic!” Marta called out. She was not generally one to blurt, and yet, she found that could not help herself. “I’d love to hear more about that.”

Sharon smiled and said,” Let’s talk over Lloyd’s cheese tonight. I’ll tell you everything.”

‘Well alright,’ Marta thought. Perhaps this company mandated sharing was not all bad..

After several more team members came forward with their own cheese creation-free offerings, Marta sensed it was time for her turn.

She may as well go all in. Marta could sense this team was special. There was something about this crew that just worked.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. She felt so grateful to have found this job and to be back home. She may as well take the risk to let them know her.

“I don’t share this story often, but here goes,” Marta began. “The night that my mother found out she was pregnant with me, she was in the backyard with my dad and the neighbors. They were having a little bonfire to celebrate the big news. Mom was walking out from the house with a pan of brownies that she’d baked earlier in the day. A huge Barn Owl swooped down and dove right into the brownie pan. Mom was terrified. She dropped the brownies, screamed like crazy, and ran into the house. Here’s the kicker, on the day that I was born, the very first thing she noticed about me was this birthmark of my arm.”

Marta pulled up her sleeve to reveal a perfectly formed silhouette of an owl on her right forearm. It’s outstretched wings were a deep brown against her pale skin.

“Holy Ripley’s Believe It or Not! That is one heck of a birthmark,” Rick Astley called out. “Mic drop on personal sharing.”

“Believe me, it has been hard to see this as an honor. Kids back in school were not so complimentary on the unique and unexplained. It’s just a part of me.” Marta said.

“Oh Marta, the time has come to own your truth. Yes, I’ve seen my share of Oprah. I’m all in on owning my truth. But I digress, you’ve been marked by an owl. That’s pretty bad-ass,” said Ben Bridges.

Later that evening, the team was assembled out on the deck overlooking the lake. One by one, they all had sampled Lloyd’s cheese. It was Marta who had ventured to take the first slice. The thing was-- it was incredible. They all loved it.

Lloyd was beaming.

True acceptance flowed among the group. Lloyd’s quirks could be rolled into the team dynamic. Marta was feeling incredibly grateful to be accepted.

Just then, a large Barn Owl swooped down and snatched up a generous hunk of Lloyd’s cheese.

“No, no! Not my cheese!” Lloyd called out.

“Lloyd, my man, there is no greater compliment than that,” Ben Bridges said. He placed a comforting arm around him. He watched the owl in reverent silence. With the exception of Lloyd, they all did.

The owl swung back around and seemed to pause mid-air as it appeared to give a knowing look and nod directed at Marta.

Marta looked right back at the owl. She held up her right arm in a salute of solidarity.

They all watched as the owl flew off, appearing more than satisfied with its prize.

“Whatever this is with you and the owls, I dig it,” said Ben Bridges.

"Here’s to Rustic Renewal! That Shakespeare fella was sure onto something with his idea that ‘there are more than on heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’ I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings,” Marta smiled and thought to herself.

After many years of seeking to fit in, it seemed that she had finally found her flock.