Learning to fly

Standing at the edge of the cliff, I stared at the beautiful view of the sunset. It was as if the sun was getting ready to take a dip in the ocean. It reminded me of the time when I came home after a hard day’s work, took off my clothes, and slowly immersed my body in the water for a relaxing bath. The sun was slowly immersing itself below of the view of the waters after a long day, working hard to brighten our lives. I came here every day, stood on the same spot, and enjoyed the view. Then, I hesitated jumping off the edge, and walked back home, disappointed. “I’m going to do it someday… someday!” I told myself. It was the same story every single day.

I had recurring dreams and daytime visions of me flying high in the skies, looking down at the valley, farms and the little brook that flows outside my little home. Hesitation led to lack of confidence, and eventually doubting my own existence. I didn’t have the heart to share this with anyone. The fear of looking weak coupled with the desire to prove myself to my critics, cocooned my thoughts deep inside my already burdened mind. I tried to fly a few times, leaping off small heights, only to hurt myself. I hadn’t even grown the wings, and I thought I was a natural at it. My pride had gotten the better of me.

Day after day, I lived my life ordinarily, just like every other person I knew. I had come to believe that mundane days were the way of life. However, another side of me kept contradicting me, pushing me to break free of the shackles, egging me to leap once more. This contradictory feeling began tearing me apart, and I went to the cliff’s edge every day, just to soothe this conflict. I knew I was special, and there was some meaningful purpose to my existence. But how do I find it? And if I do find it, what do I do to fulfill it?

As I began getting sick of myself, I spent more time at the cliff’s edge, sometimes thinking of leaping off, not to fly, but to fall… the pain was getting overwhelming. But the voices inside me pulled me away. I trudged back home, disappointed as usual. I had another problem. Unlike most people, I found it very difficult to release pain from my body. My people live by a fine thread of emotional balance. They let feelings control them, just so they feel compassion and love, but balance it with a strong heart to believe and live by practicality and reason. This perfect balance gave them a radiant aura that they carried everywhere they walked. We are our world’s protectors of the intangible power of balance. Without this balance, the world will perish. The better our own balance of emotions and light, the stronger the people get. This strength enveloped the world in safety. My struggle to make peace with my inner self was causing grief to my people. I just couldn’t balance myself, causing my aura to dim every day. If I told anyone that I was meant to fly, they would probably think I am losing my mind. No one would have believed me. After all, not everyone is meant to fly, and those who are, can do it without hesitation. They at least had wings. I had neither the confidence, nor the wings; I only had my heart.

With emotions bottled up, and no way to relive them, I ran to the cliff’s edge, raging and fuming, blaming everyone and everything I ever knew. I held them all responsible for my failures. I began suffocating, breathing heavily… I took off my clothes and let the evening breeze tickle my body. As all emotions surged, and thoughts whirled across my mind, my breathing got heavier… finally, I lost the strong grip I had over myself, and let out a very loud scream… a deafening scream that resonated in the void between me and the waters below. I screamed hard and long, till finally a tear slipped out of my eyes. This was the first time I had cried in a very, very long time; it was as if I had forgotten how to. The warm tear broke me down, and I wept for as long as I could. I didn’t stop… I couldn’t stop. I just kept on bawling like a child in pain. I thought I had cried a river.

As I gradually calmed down with a mix of happiness and sorrow, well, happiness from releasing the pain from within, I began feeling lighter. My breathing became normal. I felt rejuvenated, as if I was reborn in some new form. Facing the evening sun, still fully visible, I sat down and closed my eyes to meditate. Sensible realizations filled up my mind. I realized there was no one to blame for my pain. I was responsible in one way or the other, to let grief get the better of me. I now understood the need for balance between emotions and reason. A few moments later, I began opening my eyes slowly, only to feel a strong light shine around me. As I looked down at my body, I saw myself engulfed in a bright, white light… I had found my aura… I was now one of my people. This transformation of body and soul triggered a thought in my mind, “Can I fly?” I knew there was one way to find out.

I was back on the edge of the same cliff, but as a different person… a newborn without any fear or doubt. I looked at the sky, then the waters below, and jumped off the cliff. I fell straight down, head first. I was still falling down, along the length of the really high cliff, when I felt a tight pull in my muscles. I felt a sharp tear in my back. In the blink of an eye, two large, white feathered wings broke out. They spread out to full length and catching all the air around them. My body suddenly turned sharp, and now I was floating parallel to the waters below. Shrieking with happiness, I flew over the water, the cliff, and over my village. I felt like I was one of the birds, floating gracefully over huts and houses, and all land and water below me. I flew the whole evening, tirelessly, till the sun set and went to sleep. I finally landed in the middle of a crowd of amazed, but exuberant folk. We all hugged, held hands, and laughed heartily. All our auras transformed into a bright ball of light, lighting up the starry night. That night, we all felt stronger, and the world just became a better place to live for all…

I had found the purpose of my existence…