I drove past the same dead bird twice in the last two days. The first time, I couldn't take my eyes off of it. It had these silky, shiny black feathers all over. Under its belly were these perfectly placed white lines and its beak added the perfect touch of red. The bird was flawless. What a shame it was dead. It was a buzzard type of bird but somehow lying dead in the street it appeared to be an eagle. A beautiful, regal, dead eagle.
"Damn." I shook my head and crossed the intersection, going about my business. So when I met the dead bird at that very intersection again the next day, I literally said aloud to my passenger "I never understood how birds could get hit by cars. YOU HAVE WINGS! No other creature has wings! It's your superpower! FLY!" And then immediately it hit me: that statement was a metaphor for my own life. I haven't been using my own super power, my own wings. I haven’t been living my best life. Why haven't I been flying?
Unfortunately, as human beings our anatomy doesn’t physically support the presence of wings on our backs. Unlike birds, we can’t sweep into the air at a seconds notice if we choose. Our backs weren’t built with perfectly feathered arm-like limbs protruding from its sides. In fact, a human would catch nothing but unsavory attention, flapping their arms in efforts to take flight like a bird. Simply put, humans don’t actually meet the sky without a plane but figuratively speaking we all can fly in our own way. Humans are soaring and reaching new heights daily. Creating new inventions, finding cures, uncovering history, changing lives. Potential is being realized. Some have found what it takes to live their best lives. But what about the rest of us? What about the ones who aren’t using their wings? What about those who aren’t flying?
Are we afraid our wings won't work? Afraid that in the height of flight they'll fail us and we'll fall to our death? That somehow the wings we were born with weren't meant to fly and the fear of even spreading them is far too great to repel. Do we lack faith? Are we blind to our own gifts and abilities? Do we subscribe to the view that our “wings” are just show props meant to look good but truly serve no purpose?
Are we afraid someone else will clip them? Choosing to live with the fear that someone else’s wings will be longer, greater? Will gain more air underneath their span? Will pass us in the race? Will prove to us that our wings aren't much of "wings" at all? Are we too busy watching the next bird to even forge our own path? Have we heard the words of others telling us what we aren't capable of? That all too familiar “if-I-can't-fly-then-you-can't” talk from the birds who’ve also been too afraid to try.
Do we make excuses? “I have too many responsibilities…bills, kids, debt.” "I don't have the time," we'll say. Are the excuses we carry on our backs literally too heavy to allow our wings to soar? Do we use our excuses as a way to stay comfortable in a subpar reality? Are you a bird that's gotten comfortable on a high enough branch? The bird that mustered up the courage to take flight but aborted the mission before flying too high. Now you're contently settled above the birds on the ground yet below the birds who decided to keep flying. You whistle a tune or two from your branch and truly think you're happy. But deep down, the regret of not continuing to fly creeps into your mind as you gaze up and watch the fearless birds soaring high above your branch of choice. Did fear stop you? You were on your way.
Are we afraid that we just might fly as high as we instinctively feel we can? Do we fear our own greatness? Do we cave into this deep down fear that we just might be as great as we feel we are? That we just might achieve our dreams? That we truly are worthy of it all and realizing that you actually can manifest your destiny excites yet scares the hell out of you? Knowing you're that powerful. Knowing that in your unique way you truly are a superhero. Does experiencing the power of dreams manifested make you feel superhuman? Too good to be true? Do we fear the responsibility that comes with realizing full potential? Are we that used to mediocrity that greatness makes us uncomfortable, scared even? So used to walking around that on the rare occasion we muster up the might to take flight it feels so good that we think "this can't possibly be real" and come back down again. Do we ultimately just fear our true selves?
The clock checked out on this particular dead, buzzard-eagle bird. I'm not sure the extent to which it was able to use its wings, but what I do know is that it will never be able to fly again. Whatever it may be for you, we all have the power to fly. We were all born with wings and a destiny. Our dreams, those visions in our head, are our roadmap to our best lives; they haven't been placed in our minds by chance. We all can fly. We simply have to start.
So, why aren't you?
