Pie Snatching and Pigeon Shit

 Pie Snatching and Pigeon Shit: A Field Guide in Two Stories and a Joke

There is a specific kind of frustration that comes from watching someone stand in front of a closed door and complain that it’s locked, while they’re holding the damn keys in their own pocket.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the "Missing Step." It’s that massive logical skip people make when they want the reward, the recognition, the solution or the community, but they have a physical allergy to the risk required to get it. We’ve become a culture of spectators who are deeply offended that we aren’t being handed the MVP trophy for a game we never actually signed up to play.
I’ve started categorising these behaviours into two distinct groups: the Pie Snatchers and the Pigeon Shitters. One group believes that if you’ve baked a pie, you’ve somehow stolen the ingredients from their kitchen. The other group is sitting in the rafters of their own lives, praying for a sign from the universe while refusing to buy a two-dollar entry fee.

It all started with a few conversations that made me realise just how far people will go to stay "safe" on the sidelines—even if the view from there is terrible.

Story 1

While gathering my info for the women’s group, many women were on board with my idea, excited to be part of it, and offered many of their own ideas and assistance. 
Unless, that is, they fell outside the age range of 40 to 60, at which point the opinions, support and enthusiasm waned.  Not all, but those who were vocal about it were very vocal.  Those I had upset felt I hadn’t included them, and therefore they were excluded on purpose, that I had snatched a piece of the pie that was meant for them, never considering that they could also start a group for women in their age range, and bake their own damn pie.

Story 2

This one is about my ex-husband, and it happened after he and I had split. It's also one of those stories that reaffirm that he was meant to be an ex, probably from the beginning. Now, a musician we both know, Logan Staats, won one of those TV music contests. I can't remember which one, The Voice, The Launch, The Place-Ad-Here Show, something along those lines.  When I heard the news, I was pretty stoked.  A musician, from the town I lived in and I knew, had won something, and it was going to help his career.  That’s some cool shit, right there.   Somehow, this triumph became a topic of conversation between my ex-husband and I, where he expressed that he didn’t agree with Logan's win, but it should have been Chris, another musician we were both acquainted with. I must have been in a mood that day, since I regularly avoided conversations with him, but on this particular day, I took part in one. I agreed that Chris was a highly talented musician and, if we’re ranking talent, potentially more talented than Logan, but I had to admit I hadn't watched the show and only knew the outcome.  I didn’t realise Chris had also been on the show.  My ex went on to explain that no, Chris was not on the show, hadn’t even auditioned, but he still should have won over Logan.  Chris remained the best, without contest. He was the undefeated champion of a game he had never played. 

Side bar: Go check out Logan’s work.  He really is quite talented.  https://www.loganstaats.ca/

And Finally - A Joke

Joe had fallen on hard times.  He was in some financial hot water for sure. Each Sunday, he went to church, bowed his head and prayed to God to let him win the lottery. 
“Please let me win the lottery, God.  That would solve all my problems.” 
Each week, Joe prayed and, when he didn't win, returned the next week to pray some more. 
Feeling frustrated, Joe asked God for a sign a few weeks later.
“God, just give me a sign that my time is coming and my problems will be solved!”

Just then, Joe heard the tinkle of a bell, and a pigeon, who had been up in the rafters of the church, shat right on his head.  Joe knew that was his sign and left that church with an extra hop in his step, convinced his big winnings were coming.  

But by the next Sunday, Joe had not won the lottery.  Frustration had given way to anger, and when Joe entered that church on Sunday, he had a few things he planned to say to God. 
“What the hell, God.  I come here every Sunday.  I pray to win the lottery to take my troubles away.  Why would you give me a sign that I was going to win the lottery, and then not make it happen?”

Just then, a bright light appears in front of Joe, and he can hear a voice that seems to be all around him, but also comes from within. 

“Joe, my child, my faithful follower.  Help a guy out and buy a damn ticket!”  

The Common Thread: Fear of the Entrance Fee

On the surface, these stories are about different things: age ranges, musical talent, and a pigeon with good aim. But underneath, they are all symptoms of risk aversion.

Risk Aversion is the psychological tendency to prefer avoiding a loss over achieving a gain. In these cases, the "loss" people are afraid of isn't just money; it's responsibility and ego.

The Age-Range Objectors: Starting a group is risky. What if no one shows up? What if it’s awkward? By complaining about my group, they get to stay in the "safe" zone of being a victim of exclusion rather than the "risky" zone of being a leader. They felt "robbed" because your group isn't for them. They treat community like a pre-baked pie. They don't realise that in the world of initiative, the kitchen is always open and the flour is free.

The Ex-Husband’s Logic: This is my favourite kind of risk avoidance: The Myth of Potential. By Chris never auditioning, he remains "The Best" in my ex's head. If he actually competed and lost, the myth would be shattered. My ex was protecting Chris’s ego (and his own opinion) by keeping him on the sidelines, where he can never actually fail. This is "Safe Merit.": the belief that you can be the winner without ever stepping onto the stage.  

Joe and Pigeon Shit: Joe wanted the universe to guarantee a win before he spent the two dollars. He wanted a miracle without a buy-in.

The "Missing Step" is always Action. Whether it’s the social risk of leading, the professional risk of competing, or the literal two-dollar risk of a lottery ticket, these people are all waiting for the "Sign" or the "Invite"; the behaviour is the same. It’s a refusal to engage with the reality of the work while demanding the reality of the reward. 

The Pie Snatchers want the pie without the flour on their hands. The Pigeon Shitters want the blessing without the buy-in.

They are all choosing the safety of the sidelines, unaware that the sidelines are where potential goes to die. They’ve mistaken "not losing" for "winning," but in the real world, the only thing you win by not playing is a front-row seat to everyone else’s success. To understand why these people act this way, you have to understand Loss Aversion. In evolutionary terms, our brains are programmed with a "safety first" glitch, in which the psychological pain of losing is twice as powerful as the joy of gaining. It’s a survival instinct gone haywire: the "Pie Snatchers" choose the safety of doing nothing over the social risk of leading; my ex-husband protects a "Safe Merit" myth to avoid the ego risk of a real-world loss; and Joe waits for a miracle to avoid the two-dollar risk of a ticket. But the logic of loss aversion is a liar. It tells you that by not playing, you aren’t losing—when in reality, the cost of "zero risk" is a 100% guarantee of "zero reward." You aren’t saving your resources; you are actively spending your potential on a life that never changes. 

The reality is that Risk is the entrance fee for a life worth living. If you aren't willing to buy the ticket, or bake the pie, or audition for the show, you don't get to be mad at the people who did.

So, my advice? Stop looking up at the rafters. Stop waiting for shit to happen. Go buy the damn ticket