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Dear Friends

 

Here is a beautiful story that I got from the philist listserv sometime

back.

 

Swami

 

 

The Purple Flamingo and the Ostrich

 

by Amber, copyright 1992

-

 

There was once in Aud the most beautiful and most rare of birds, a purple

flamingo. A rare flower of her race was she, blue gold of wing, graceful of

stride, and quiet as the falling dew. In all of Aud none could compare with

the gentleness of her spirit or the calmness of her gaze. Across the width

and breadth of Aud's hot Savannah summers, kindness and understanding flowed

in herwake.

 

But Aud is a land of twists and turns, exotic and strange, where fate like a

silent panther stalks the night, seeking the unwary. And all alike must heed

the play of life and death, lest the cry in the dark be their own. Now in

this land of joy and of sorrow there lived an ostrich. He was a proud bird.

A runner and a scout for the flock, searching the land for jungle beasts

with predacious inclinations, warning his fellows of danger, and planning

the strategies of defence. He was a respected member of the flock, with

ambitions of advancement and hopes for the prettiest of wives and the

loudest of children.

 

One morn' the ostrich arose from a bed of ferns and willows to a sound

different from all others. Toward the rising light, before the sun's red

glow, a swoop of birds parlayed with the dawn. Pink and lovely, calling to

one another over the mists, the flamingos were gliding to their feeding

grounds in the distant marsh lands. The fires of the sun lit their wings as

they danced and soared, heedless of the groundstuck watcher before them. And

for that watcher a single thought occurred: Though he could run like the

wind, he couldnot fly. For an ostrich, the skies were forever closed, and

the sun a distant and unattainable light to which he could never aspire.

 

Tears streamed from his proud face as he watched the flamingos depart. Such

beauty! Such freedom of movement! To soar with one's fellows, high above the

Savannah, sailing high and free through air and light and sky. Oh! To be

forever above the dangers of the ground, high above fears of sudden, ugly

death. " But for me " , he thought, " such joyful crimson soaring is forever

barred " . And for the first time in his life the ostrich felt incomplete and

alone.

 

Now this is not the usual story about a dream and a quest with ultimate

redemption at the end. Not at all. The ostrich did not suddenly leave his

responsibilities to the flock to seek out a way by which he too could soar

with the flamingos of the dawn. Nor did he struggle through pain and tears,

overcoming tremendous obstacles until at long last, after much travail and

difficulty, he found the wondrous purple flamingo who answered his life's

longings. No. This story is not like that at all.

 

The ostrich may have been proud, but he was proud with justification - he

was no fool. He knew that many might die if he abrogated his

responsibilities as scout to the flock. Though his heart ached with the pain

of denied flight, he knew he must remain. As he watched the flamingos vanish

toward the marshes that red red morning, he realized this: If he pursued the

mystery of flight he would probably fail, for his body, while superb for

racing across the grasslands was simply not designed for soaring. He knew

that his place in Aud was guiding the flock away from danger, and helping

his sisters and his brothers defend the little ones.

 

Yet he wondered: " Why am I saddened by seeing such beauty? I cannot fly. Why

do I need more? " So the ostrich resolved that each day he would set aside

one hour to try in any way he could to find the answer to his question.

 

At first he sought the wisdom and advice of his friends. But although they

were kind and listened carefully to his questions, they had no answers for

him.Next he sought out the very old, the elders of the flock. " Perhaps their

vast experience will provide an answer " , he thought. But they only urged him

to forget such foolishness, and attend to his duties to the flock.

 

In desperation, he decided to seek the wisdom of the great killers of the

grasslands - the tigers. For he had seen the care and cunning of their

kind.Surely such cunning also bred wisdom.The feline hunters were quick and

fearsome. Death at their paws was swift and sure. But as a scout, he knew

their ways, and knew that after a kill they were less likely to attack at

his approach. He waited many weeks, until finally an opportunity presented

itself: he came upon a tiger satiated after the fresh kill of a young zebra

foal. As he carefully approached the circle of the kill, the tiger watched

with benign indifference.

 

" Greetings great one " , he called to the tiger

 

" And to you, O groundling bird. " " I have come to seek the wisdom of your

council. Will you hear my question? "

 

" A strange request from one such as you, " grunted the tiger. " But the sun is

warm, and my belly full. Ask away, and I shall give what council I may. "

 

" Thank you, great one. My question is this. I have watched the freedom of

the flamingos as they fill the sky with their passing. And I too have wished

to soar the heavens. Yet I am a runner and though swift, am not capable of

flight. This is the way of the world, and I accept it. Yet what I crave to

understand is this: Why do I yet yearn for flight and the freedom it brings?

Why do I wish more than my lot? "

 

The tiger growled at this, and rose up on his haunches. He lunged at the

ostrich roaring power and death at the terrified bird. The ostrich froze in

the power of that roar, shivering before the glare of those immense eyes of

fire. The ostrich stood unmoving, seeing his death before him. Then the

tiger yawned, licked its lips, and settled back down with a somewhat amused

expression on his golden face. After a few moments, the tiger spoke: " Where

are your questions now, foolish bird? That is my answer to you. Now go.

 

" Away ran the ostrich, running, running; desperate to get away. In his ears

rang the sound of the tiger's laughter. Yet even as he ran in terror and

mortification, he wondered what the tiger had meant.

 

The years passed. The ostrich now had a pretty bride and a flurry of young.

He no longer scouted, but had become a leader of the flock, renowned for his

fairness and his wisdom. He had pursued his inner question: Why did he want

more? Why did he wish to fly? But now there was a difference. Years of

pondering had helped him to see the great gift that the tiger had given. For

he had found that in that instant of surprise and terror, for a brief moment

his mind had quieted. His questions had, in that moment of quiet, ceased. In

the silence of the tiger's roar the need for answers had vanished.

 

The years came and went; the flock grew and the ostrich aged. Yet unlike his

fellows he found his mind clear, unencumbered and free. He had become a

venerated elder. His wife had become a shaman and healer of the flock, and

some of his children had themselves become scouts. In his old age he had

found a freedom for which he had never sought. His mind was clear and sharp,

histhoughts free.

 

One bright morning as he stood looking toward the rising sun, the flamingos

appeared again in their glory, as they had so long ago. But this time he

walked slowly toward them, until he stood below as they sailed red and

golden in the light above him.

 

" I have seen you before " , said a soft voice behind him.

 

" Yes Mistress, and I have seen you many times over the years, flying with

your flock. I have heard of your grace and your goodness; that you spread

joy and wisdom with your passage. "

 

" Yet you have never sought me out? "

 

" No. Thanks to the kindness of my teacher - a venerable tiger - so many

years ago. Through him I learned how to explore within myself. I have found

my heart's desire within my own being. " " And what was it you found, gentle

ostrich? "

 

" Only myself, Mistress. " . He paused a moment in thought. " I knew that I

could not fly, as I yearned to do, nor could I relinquish my

responsibilities to the flock. But I was unhappy. So there was only one

place left for me to turn, and that was within myself. The tiger showed me

how to look. He showed me that whatever emotion or feeling was dominant in

my mind temporarily suppressed all other needs or thoughts. "

 

" So you knew that even the strongest yearning, your need to fly, was

temporary? "

 

" Yes, and therefore it couldn't have been as vital as I had supposed. In my

terror at the tiger's roar, all my deepest yearnings temporarily vanished...

so I understood that they were passing things only. Instead I wanted

something permanent and lasting. "

 

" How did you come to realize that the only thing that lasts is the quiet of

the mind? " " I simply stopped chasing after that which was transitory. Then to

my wonder and joy, I found that all that was left was my sense of being. My

own consciousness. "

 

" But not a consciousness of something...? "

 

" No, the simple fact of consciousness itself. "

 

" Ah. Come with me now gentle ostrich. Together we will follow the light. "

 

Then as the sun rose red and golden on the land of Aud, the purple flamingo

and the ostrich flew together over the Savannah toward the dawn.

 

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