The Eagle Must Fly High
August 22, 2011
There is a bit of autumn chill in the air. Our response to this early gift of autumn while still in the summer was to build a fire in the fireplace. We gather around the fireplace, the Elders and myself.
The Elder of Water, sitting to my right, turns to me, smiles and says, “Are you going to tell us the story?”
For a half of a moment, I was about to say, “What story?” I was going to pretend like I did not know what she was asking. However, as the half a moment became a full moment, I reply to the Elder of Water, “Yes, I will tell the story.”
Truth is, over the past several days, this story has been brewing in my spirit. And the Elders always know what’s brewing in my spirit. They know. Their purpose is to hold me to the fire, and charge me to stand in my greatness. I am learning.
I close my eyes to connect to and listen for the story. I open my eyes and focus on the fire. I watch the flames dance their dance, seeing the smoke rise up the chimney to where all smoke gathers. I inhale, then exhale, and begin:
In a valley nestled between the second and third mountain lies a forest. No humans have seen this forest, nor breathed its air; it does not have a name. In the center of this pristine forest is a clearing. All baby birds, just after hatching from their eggs, are brought here by their mothers and fathers. All baby birds of the world are placed in this magical, baby bird nursery.
The mother and father birds must leave the baby birds in the safety and care of this magical baby bird nursery. It is the law of the nursery in the forest of this valley nestled between the second and third mountain.
The baby birds are protected and guarded. They are allowed to play and mingle and make friends with each other. All the birds are baby birds and enjoy being with each other.
In this nursery, they are all baby birds. These baby birds come from all over the world and are all kinds of birds. And there are many birds that are of the same species, except one. There is only one baby eagle among the many birds. The baby eagle plays and mingles and makes friends just like all the other baby birds.
In this nursery, the baby birds grow to be not-so-baby birds. As they grow, something happens. The not-so-baby birds notice that they are different. They notice the different sizes, shapes, and colors. They notice the different beaks, eyes, feathers, and feet. Some have large wings, while others have small wings. Some can fly and some cannot. Some have trouble walking on land and others do not. Once the not-so-baby birds begin to see the difference, they form groups with other birds like themselves.
Everyone is finding friends that look just like them except one, the not so baby eagle. The not-so-baby eagle wanders around hoping to see another eagle; but there is no other.
There is change in the air. The winds blow into the nursery in the forest of the valley between the second and third mountain. The wings bring the call. It is the call for all the almost-grown birds to leave the nursery, leave the valley and leave for their new homes. The almost-grown birds head to the woodlands, the prairies, the oceans, the savannas, the deserts, the hills, the islands and the skies above these places.
They all are leaving except one, the almost-grown eagle. The almost-grown eagle feels the winds, but there is not call for it. The almost-grown eagle lowers its head; it feels heavy, as does its heart.
Another wind enters the nursery into the nursery in the forest of the valley between the second and third mountain. This wind comes and swirls around the almost-grown eagle. The almost-grown eagle hears the call of the wind. The call is asking the almost-grown eagle to fly with the wind.
The eagle spreads its wings and takes off into the sky following the wind. The wind guides the eagle high into the sky, high above the nursery, high above the forest and high above the valley. The eagle looks back at the nursery. It was home. It was home to all of its friends before the winds came. It was the only place it knew. The eagle lowers its head; it is heavy as is its heart. And yet the eagle continues flying with the wind.
The wind guides the eagle above the second and third mountains, and goes in the direction of the first mountain. The first mountain is the tallest in the land. The eagle continues following the wind, flying higher and higher.
Just as the eagle flies over the first mountain, the wind leaves. The eagle realizes that it is alone. In that moment that the wind leaves, something deep within the eagle guides the eagle to keep flying. The eagle keeps flying.
The eagle sees something in the distance. The eagle sees other birds flying around. The eagle flies to the other birds and realizes they are Eagles, too.
The Eagle lifts its head. It is now light, as is its heart.
As the Eagle reaches the others, one of the Eagles flies to the Eagle and says, “welcome.” At that moment, the Eagle knows that it was not alone. The Eagle knows that there are other Eagles.
Another Eagle says, “You have that smile just like we each had when we first arrived.”
Eagle reflects back to the time of being in the nursery in the forest of the valley between the second and third mountain. It was a good time before the winds came. But Eagle now understands that it had to leave in order to connect with the other Eagles. It is now time to be Eagle, fly as Eagle and fly among other Eagles.
Eagle now sees that “the other birds are being who they are with their “others”: the Penguins master flying through the waters with other penguins; the Ostriches master flying on land with the other ostriches; the Parrots master flying among the rainforest canopy with other parrots; but, Eagles must master flying high above the mountains with other eagles.”
A small voice within tells Eagle, “You are to be what and who you are. And as an eagle, you are to fly high above the first mountain and be with the other eagles. It is the law of the land…and air.”
As I finish the story, I sigh deeply. I look at each Elder, trying to gauge a response. They all are quiet. I take their quiet as a good thing, and I smile.
The Elder of Air, the one who brings joy and laughter to the group, breaks the quiet, “You tell a good story; almost as good as me. But good none the less.” We all laugh.
The Elder of Fires says, “It’s always about him.” We continue laughing.
Copyright © 2011 Anthony L. Farmer All Rights Reserved
Conversations with the Elders is a weekly “e-newsletter" that shares my experiences and conversations with the Elders, as I call them. We meet on the front porch of a log cabin high in the mountains. They share their wisdoms, life experiences, perspectives, stories, and love. I listen, learn and share.
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"...listening to our elders is one of the most important things we can do. I've learned a lot and have had good teachers. You always learn a lot from your elders - its important to sit and listen to them."
Herman “TJ” Laffoon
Reverend Anthony Farmer
www.revanthonyfarmer.com
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