by Dr. Jeff Alexander, Founder of Warrior Spirit ( www.WarriorSpirit.com )
There once was an old farmer who had a small farm bordering a thick forest high in the mountains. He lived alone. His family consisted of two milk cows, one horse, some overweight pigs and a small clutch of chickens with one proud rooster. His love for nature fed his soul. He was a very gentle man who loved all creatures. He would talk to all his creatures and had a special relationship with the forest trees. He often talked to them and asked them for guidance whenever he needed some help. He would tell others, “They are God’s gift to us and have all the secrets to life if we can listen.”
One morning while walking through his forest, he noticed something at the base of one of his favorite cedars. He discovered a rather large egg that had fallen from the giant tree. The egg had cracked almost completely in half except for one small attached piece. He took off his flannel shirt and gently wrapped his delicate find ever so gently. Cradling the egg like a newborn infant, he walked back toward his little farm. As he approached the chicken coop, he could feel a stirring and anxious movement within the shell. “I feel life in there. Oh my, who might this be?” He said to himself.
As he approached the coop, the usual squawking and clucking grew from the chicken tribe, who were expecting a handout. Today the farmer was bringing something different to the coop. As he opened the door, he reached in his pocket with one hand to grab some seed, throwing it to loud clucks below. He found a place in the warm sunlight to rest the egg. As soon as the egg rested on the straw, he noticed a light orange beak and one rather large claw chipping away at the egg from the inside. The other chickens quickly scurried over to the new object to see if it was something tasty to eat. In amazement, the whole clutch, including our singular rooster seemed fixed on the egg and its content.
Within moments, out he came! To the surprise of the farmer and the rest of the clutch, out popped a brand new baby eagle. Three times the size of the other chicks, this clumsy little guy with huge head and talons sat in the warm sun taking in its new world. The immediate welcoming from the gossiping tribe of clucking was a relief to the farmer. “Oh, my!”thought the farmer, “This is an eagle. I must care for him and give him some special attention. He is so small and defenseless; I will make sure he is warm, well fed and safe. My chickens, please teach him your ways so he may live.”
So he decided to add the little eagle chick to the coop of chickens. After all, the clutch of chickens already had decided that even if this chick was ugly and different, it didn’t matter. It was now part of the chicken family. You see, chickens just know that birds of all feathers automatically flock together, even one with a big head and feet.
As the days passed, the farmer would tend to all his animals and creatures. He would make a special meal for his new little friend and feed him along with the rest of the tribe in the coop. The eagle began to grow and lose his soft down and new little feathers began to sprout. The farmer would sit and watch his little friend learn to scratch around like the other chickens and sit on the roost next to all of the others finally falling asleep.
Whenever the farmer approached the coop for the daily feeding, the whole tribe would cluck in anticipation. The young eagle awkwardly hobbled around doing the best he could to cluck. However his “screech – screech” set him apart from the rest of the chicken family. And every day, as the farmer witnessed his little friend grow, he also noticed that in many ways this eagle was turning into a chicken. With mixed emotions, he continued to observe this strange phenomenon.
One afternoon after a feeding, the farmer quietly sat and watched the long line of chickens sleeping lazily on the shallow roofline of the coop. He scanned down the line of sleeping birds, he couldn’t help but notice sticking out in a rather obvious manner the eagle, at least three times larger than the rest. He was fast asleep with the rest of the tribe. Yes, his little eagle was dreaming chicken dreams. The farmer then realized he got his wish. His eagle was safe, well fed and seemed content.
Now this bothered the farmer very much. He thought. . . “This is wrong. He is an eagle yet he thinks he is a chicken. While I see that he is safe and content, he does not know what it is like to soar like an eagle.” He walked away very sad. He did what he always did when he wanted to know, he went into his forests to ask for guidance.
The next morning he got up early and went straight for the chicken coop. After all the clucking and scratching calmed down, the farmer leaned over and picked up the young eagle. Now almost full grown, the eagle weighed many times more than the others and it took two arms to hold him up.
Right in the middle of some serious scratching at the dirt, the eagle looked a little surprised that the farmer would single him out like this. And then, with intense eyes and a gentle voice, the old farmer held the eagle level to his own face and stared right into his eye. “You are an eagle! You were meant to fly. You were meant to explore the heavens.” And with this, the farmer threw the large bird into the air.
A sickening thud was heard a few feet from the launch site. Fortunately, there was a layer of straw close by where the large bird landed flat on his back. If eagles could talk, the expression on his face was anything but grateful as he turned one eye to the farmer. The farmer uttered quietly “Oh my . . . sorry about that!” The eagle rose to its feet and hobbled over to the rest of the chickens and resumed scratching in the same spot as before. Once again the farmer shook his head and repeated, “Oh my.” He walked back again into the forest for more guidance.
The next morning, the farmer stepped quickly toward the coop. He would put off the feeding until later. He leaned over and immediately lifted the young eagle out of the coop. He turned and headed straight for the barn. Holding the young bird under one hand, he grabbed the ladder to the hayloft above with the other. He ascended. Standing on the upper level of the loft, he approached the open doors leading outward above the yard.
Poised at the edge of the open loft, he lifted the eagle to his face with both hands. He exclaimed with a loud voice. , “You are an eagle. And eagles are meant to fly. You were meant to explore the heavens!” He turned to the yard and thrust the bird high into the sky. He felt a terrible contraction in the pit of his stomach as he saw the large bird resemble a sack of potatoes tumbling through space, landing dead center on some hay below. “Oh my,” he whispered with disappointment. The young eagle strained to get to his feet and then headed directly to the coop where the rest of the birds waited. As soon as the eagle reached the coop, the farmer turned toward the forest shaking his head.
Immediately after dawn on the next morning, the farmer quietly approached the coop not wanting to wake up the whole tribe. He now carried his young friend ever so gently in his embrace. This time, he turned away from the farm and into the forest. After an hour of searching, he finally found the perfect tree that would be easy to climb and was tall enough. The tree rested high over a thicket of ferns. Up he climbed. The contraction and nervous tension in his chest grew with each step upward. “More height. We need to go higher!” Holding the young eagle under one arm and climbing with the other was not easy.
Finally the farmer reached the branch he was looking for…at least fifty feet above the ground he estimated. He whispered to his feathered friend “This should be good enough.”He balanced himself against the trunk, and ever so gently he slowly pulled the bird around to his front. With both hands he held up the eagle and proclaimed, “You are an eagle. And eagles were meant to fly. You were meant to explore the heavens.”
On the last word, he flung the eagle away from him as far as he could. Again the contraction seized his chest and stomach. He heard the cracking of small limbs as the body of the bird sumersalted downward, and once again, the sickening thud of the eagle’s body crashing down on the ferns and earth below. “Oh my. Have I killed my friend?” wondered the farmer.
Almost falling himself, he scurried down the tree to care for his friend. Sitting stunned and motionless, the eagle sat upright resting partially on the soft earth and a large fern. “I am sorry my friend.” Uttered the farmer, “I just want you to know who you are.” And as the farmer gently picked up the bewildered bird, he turned toward home. Holding the magnificent bird to his chest, he walked with bowed head through the giant cedars. A tear found its way down his cheek.
Terribly disappointed from the experience, the farmer had many thoughts on his way back to the farm. “Maybe I should have never brought you home that day. Maybe I should let you be a chicken. After all, it is better than dying from falling from a tree. At least you are alive and safe. I could try to pretend that you are not an eagle. Yes you have a soul of an eagle but maybe it is right to let you live as a chicken and scratch on the earth for the rest of your days. Who am I to force you to be something else? Maybe your wings are not meant to feel the wind beneath them and soar through God’s world. Maybe I will just let you live the normal life of a chicken and no longer push you to experience the challenge of a natural existence.” Another tear traveled down as he looked up to the tops of the trees.
There was a full moon that night. The farmer could not sleep. He went into his forest to ask once again for guidance. He spent the whole night among the giants silhouetted against the moon. As he ventured into his forest he contemplated “This is not a night for sleep; it is a night for listening.”
He returned just before dawn. His step was deliberate and quick. He approached the coop. Ever so quietly he entered the coop and gently lifted the large eagle from the rest of the sleeping chickens. He held his friend close to his heart and turned to the forest. His pace quickened as he disappeared into the trees.
Shafts of red orange sunlight began to break the dark horizon by the time he reached his destination. Three hours had passed. High at the edge of a mighty mountain he stood. He caressed the eagle to his chest. With closed eyes he focused on the sensation of the cool morning air moving in and out of his lungs. The moment had arrived.
His breath deepened and each exhale steamed outward in anticipation of what he must do. Standing a few feet from the edge of a mountain cliff he gazed outward into empty space now filled with a bright orange light of a new day. Below him he could barely make out the tracing of the thin dark blue line of a river snaking through giant cedars below. Even the giant trees that followed the river appeared as tiny toothpicks from this height. “Over a thousand feet at least,” he thought to himself. “God give me the strength to do what I must do! This will be the last attempt. This must be the one.”
“But, what if?” His mind began to play the ego war of consequences. “Enough! It is done and I know what I must do!” He could feel the beating heart of the young bird against his own. He gazed into the bright eyes for one quiet minute with the gaze of unconditional love and trust.
“You have always been an eagle. You have learned to eat, sleep and live among chickens. You have learned to be safe, content and normal. You have been asleep. But your soul has always been that of an eagle. It is your soul that I see and this is the day your soul shall gain it’s freedom. My attachment to you is over. You have been asleep and in a long dream. And now the dreamer awakens from the dream. You are an eagle. And eagles were meant to fly. Go forth and explore the heavens!”
And with this, he yelled a mighty deep cry of Spirit. He ran to the edge of the cliff and thrust the young eagle off into space. And like before, the limp body of the eagle tumbled and fell victim to gravity. One hundred feet he plunged, two hundred feet, and he continued to fall and tumble through space. The farmer looked on, his heart racing, his mind at war, his emotions heightened – his Spirit certain.
Three hundred, four hundred, five hundred feet the eagle somersaulted through space. As the falling body accelerated toward earth, it grew smaller as the farmer watched. One thousand feet, he continued to plunge toward certain death.
The farmer arched backward and thrust his eyes upward to the heavens and took in a deep breath. A roaring yell erupted from the depths of his soul, “Free his soul. Let it awaken his heart!”
Faster he fell, drawing closer to the end with each passing second. Another explosion of cry of Spirit from the old man’s chest thundered down to his descending friend.
With a only a few seconds left, the small figure tumbling through space took in the cry from the farmer’s heart. The falling body jolted as if it had been awakened. The bird instantly gained control and turned itself pointing headfirst in a diving position. The eagle now resembled an arrow shot straight down accelerating it’s speed. And with less than one second to certain death the bird made his move. Awakening from a long sleep, his magnificent wings stretched themselves outward. The wings cut the wind and instantly mastered it. He shifted the direction gliding gracefully only a few feet above the raging river below. And at the same instant, the bird took the wind of life into his lungs and called out . The piercing eagle cry of Spirit echoed through the valley answering his friend who watched from above.
His loud cry answered his old friend high on the cliff above. The great eagle glided over the river just a few feet above the surface. At one with the wind and master of his world, he altered his direction and began to soar upward. Heavenward he soared, with authority and majestic wings efficiently moving through space, upward to the heavens.
As the eagle continued to climb, he approached the place where the farmer stood. Closer and closer he ascended toward his launch site. And at the edge of the cliff he paused for a moment to catch the eye of the one who freed him. In an instant frozen in time, both eagle and man connected with recognition.
The great eagle continued to work his great wings and climb upward high above the farmer, above the forest, high above the tallest of trees to gain an eagle’s view of the whole land. He turned and navigated his way to the farm. Once there, he circled the coop where he could see his family scratching at the earth below with heads bowed down. They did not notice who now was now flying above their head. The eagle felt the connection to them and now it was time to say good-bye. One loud eagle call and he was off.
How little it looked from up there! How much of his life was lived in that small place! And now new worlds and new experiences awaited him. How grateful to the Spirit of the farmer he was for the trust and spiritual endurance in guiding him to freedom. As he turned one last time to leave the valley forever he glided above the old farmers head. One last good-bye and a gift of gratitude to the one who freed his soul.
He increased his speed and descended towards the farmer. And then he stretched his wings out as far as they could go. He soared within a few feet above the farmer’s head. Tears of joy that were streaming from the farmers cheek were met with the gust of wind that blew from those mighty wings.
The eagle silhouetted against the rising sun as he continued to climb into the heavens. The farmer shaded his eyes following the great bird until he disppeared into the heavens. He whispered “Farewell my great eagle.”
The farmer turned and began his journey home. As he entered his great forest he directed his eyes to the tops of the giant trees exhaulting,”Thank you old ancient ones for your wisdom and silence. You have spoken clearly to my heart. And you were right. He is an eagle. And eagles are meant to fly. And now it is time for him to explore the heavens.”
The farmer then headed back to his home.
. . . .
So my eagles, you were meant to fly. I know that the ego can convince us all to live as chickens and scratch meagerly at the world of material things so that we can earn a living. I know that it is tempting to live a normal life of coping, seeking contentment and safety. But for sure, this is the death of the soul. The eagle in you wants to fly. You have it in you to soar.
The anxiety of holding back is called suffering. To let go and discover your ability to fly like the eagle will take a leap of faith. To have faith is to know. More than belief, more than fact and more than theory, is knowing. Knowing is the reflection of faith in the physical world. Without faith, you will never jump. Without trusting your farmer within, called Spirit, you will not act. To act in faith is the most certain thing you can do.
You must find what challenges you, and go there. The warriors challenge is always within you. It will never be in conquering outside illusions. It will always be within you. Go there, ask for guidance and then trust whatever answer that comes from your heart. Sounds simple? It is. But from an ego’s perspective, you will have to die.
You will have to move through the fire of fear, powerlessness, confusion and soul fatigue. This is called Die Before You Die. To the ego, it means the greatest fear of all: that you will lose everything. In order to gain everything, first you must lose it all. You must burn your stories in the fire of passion. It is your identity to the stories you have lived that keeps you in prison. Even reading these words could stimulate fear and reluctance of the mind. But your soul knows exactly what I am saying.
Spirit is flinging you from the cliff of normal consciousness. It is yelling the cry of spirit as you tumble to the death of the ego self. This is the false self coming to an end, and not you. With the death of the false self, your true self will emerge. It is what you were born to do. You must trust that you will know when to spread your wings out before you hit bottom. There is a reason you are reading these words and that reason will make itself known in the days to come. We are all in this together and together we will fly home.
You must learn to bless the chickens and move on. You are eagles. You were meant to fly. Spread your wings, take your leaps of faith and explore the heavens. I will see you there.
Jeff
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