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Waiting for the Wind

By:Charles Anthony McFaulds
Date: Fri,28 May 2010
Submitter:Sacred Space
Views:7308

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The young boy stood at the edge of the cliff and looked down in fear at the sharp drop below; as his long blond locks of hair cascaded softly against his tear drenched cheeks. His village elders had told him matter-of-factly that he was an angel in-waiting, but could only earn his wings by jumping off the cliff and flying down to greet them where they were waiting safely for him on the ragged rocks below.

Try as he might however, he simply could not conjure up the strength needed to take the leap of faith that was now required of him. He felt himself unworthy, having allowed his own seeds of doubt and the ill-intentioned words of others who knew him not, to take root in his mind where they were now growing unabashedly around his true destiny and genuine sense of self-worth.

Afraid as he was though, something deep within was telling him that he had nothing to be afraid of if only he could listen to the song of his own soul, which would lovingly guide him on his path of flight to the all fulfilling destiny that lay patiently in wait for him to discover. All the same, he still found it difficult to silence the voice of doubt and the heckling of fear from whispering scornfully into his ear: "You'll fail you silly boy; be ridiculed, laughed at and then left for dead like yesterday's news on the rocks of regret that lie in wait below." Before telling him to turn back and live his life in shame, disappointment and mediocrity - with nothing to look forward to but the mist of misery and the dance of despair.

Many they said; had stood where he was now and simply turned back. There was no harm in failure they reminded him time and time again - and no future in ambition. What use were wings to the likes of him anyhow? But still a tiny spark of hope remained alight within his heart. Unwilling; or unable to extinguish itself; hoping against all odds that he would allow it to light his way. For the pure of heart never truly lose their sense of direction, or so it is written in the halls of wisdom. Sure, they may lose their way for a time, but there are many roads that lead them back to their true path.

Unsure of what to do next, he suddenly became acutely aware of a calming presence standing alongside him. Turning slowly to see who it was, he was pleasantly surprised to find the weather-beaten face of an old monk smiling serenely back at him. "All you have to do is jump" he said with love in his voice. "It's your turn to fly child" he continued, lovingly stretching out his hand in support as he did so. "Why complicate things?"

"But I might fall" replied the young boy politely. "True!" said the monk knowingly "But there is really only one sure way of finding out. If you're search had led you here, then what other choice is open to you? Look within and listen to the sound of your own soul." Eager to learn more the young boy asked just how best to do that. "Jump" said the monk with a smile of enlightenment on his face. "Faith is not faith if you require proof. It really is that simple." With that he turned and walked away; whispering as he did that it's only we ourselves that make life complicated.

The old monk's words sounded out again in the young boys head after he had already left. "It's your turn to fly child." As he said the words aloud the young boy lifted his hands in the air, took a deep breath and happily jumped off the edge of the cliff with not a tinge of fear to be found. As he did so he felt a sense of complete and utter freedom fill his heart. Onwards and upwards he flew towards wonderful new people, places and things that he would never have discovered had it not been for his wings of trust, faith and hope. He couldn't be entirely sure, but as he did so, he thought he caught a glimpse of the old monk's face hidden in the clouds.

Remember, we are ALL angels in-waiting!

"It's your turn to fly!"


(C) Charles Anthony McFaulds 2010
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