WINGS

My father and I are sitting inside my car. He breaks the calm silence between us with a heartfelt confession.

“I feel euphoric. I feel like an eagle,” he begins.

“When a young eagle flies, it is unable to soar as high as it wishes to. The feathers it was born with have grown old and heavy, so it has become difficult to fly easily. Its beak and talons are long outgrown, so there is a struggle to grasp and eat its prey.

The young eagle can either surrender to the obstacles and live a life that is short-lived or choose to undergo a painful journey that will propel itself into a journey of rebirth.

In this story, the young eagle chooses the journey of rebirth.

It mercilessly plucks its old feathers away with its talons until a single feather isn’t left remaining. It bangs its beak and vigorously rips its talons until both completely break off. The young eagle is left in a vulnerable state. It is unable to fly or defend itself from the external forces of the outside world that could bring danger or cause harm.

But in the period that it is left in this vulnerable state, the young eagle grows.

Its talons grow back, and the eagle can grasp prey more precisely. Its beak grows back, and the eagle can eat the food that will satisfy its appetite. Its feathers grow back, and the eagle can fly stronger and higher than ever before.”

My father and I are sitting inside my car. He tells me that I have long outgrown the person that I used to be. He helps me find courage in choosing temporary pain to embrace the change I will endure when I move forward.

My father waits for the day that I will rise and fly right beside him in the sky. He tells me to not only fly, but to fly higher, because I am courageous: even when the world tries to convince me otherwise.