Learning to fly again

Learning to fly again

A long time ago a bird stretched its wings and took flight.

Never a more perfect bird has ever been. With everything it ever needed just a thought away. Majestically soaring, on the wind. All manner of wonder and horizon revealing itself as the bird flew on.

One day the bird, a glint catching its eye, decided to investigate and land.

The moment of touch down however, it was as if it fell into a trance.

For before was all manner of bright light, noise and distraction. In most unnatural of states, far removed from the Nature it had left, the bird started to stroll through the attractions. Wings tucked away, not necessary then for millennia.

As if almost forgetting that it could fly.

After a while however that of attraction almost that of assault.

For the lights got brighter and brighter, volume slowly being turned up, pressure growing. The Nature it had left but a distant memory now, majestic no more. For what had previously been a gentle stroll now becoming that of race, almost stampede.

Those that were in that place were mindlessly rushing and pushing to get ahead, at cost of others around, destroying the very home they needed to survive.

In this rush, this maddening assault, our bird seemingly a casualty of the pressure. It lay in the dirt, as if the very Life had been sucked away. Crushed and broken under foot.

With last breath however, every fibre of being drawn and focused to survive. As if woken from a deep sleep. Our bird mustered all and decided to try to attempt path back to what was before. The bright lights and toxic machine now very clear.

Revealed for what it always was.

With wings long since forgotten, feeling unusual at first to try, for it had been such a long time, the bird began again to learn how to fly. As if coming out of trance, shaky at the start it took to the air once more.

That of previous attraction, that seductive trap, now beginning to fade behind.

Our bird took its time, but slowly started to remember the joy and glory of just being where it was purposed to be.

With every meter of height gained, more and more the gaze returning to the majesty of the nature long since forgotten. Yet it had been waiting for the birds’ return all along.

I see our Human spirit now rising again in these troubled times.

Those things we were told and thought were important. So quickly their real worth in plain sight.

All around, as if waking from a deep sleep evidence of our real potential being revealed.

Those in the streets of Italy, singing. Those dressing up to take bin to the curb. The volunteers taking the initiative to create support groups for others in need. Those doing just crazy things to bring joy and laughter into the Hearts and Lives of those in need. Teddy bears in windows for kids to enjoy.

Those who are quietly making all those calls just to stay in touch. Reaching out to neighbours and friends. Proving that they do indeed really care for those around.

In those learning how to ask for help. Those that are doing, quietly in the background, without need of accolade, or limelight.

Doing just because it is the right thing to do.

In these places, in these moments of divinely bright light, our spirit truly soars.

For we need not Law, rule or legislation or others to tell us how to act. We need just to remember the incredible power we all have and all are. We just need to relearn how to look after our home, for it is the only source of what we need to survive. How to look after each other with kindness and compassion once again.

We just, all of us, need to be in control of our lives, taking responsibility for thought and action and our impacts on those around us. The noise of this place turned down. Fully acknowledging that it is us, the each individual of us that makes this place.

May these times of hardship remind us all how to fly again.

Back into our natural home.

Back to a place with foundation in Love, compassion, kindness and joy.

May the spirit within you take flight again, this day a new.

03.04.2020

Add a comment

Related Blogs

THE SHARP EDGES MUST COME OFF
Rivers of Gold
Rivers of Gold
[wen_cta id='19029']