“Once upon a time, there was a bird. He was adorned with two perfect wings and with glossy, colorful, marvelous feathers.
One day, a woman saw this bird and fell in love with him.
She invited the bird to fly with her, and the two travelled across the sky in perfect harmony. She admired and venerated and celebrated that bird.
But then she thought: He might want to visit far-off mountains!
And she was afraid, afraid that she would never feel the same way about any other bird.
And she thought: “I’m going to set a trap. The next time the bird appears, he will never leave again.”
The bird, who was also in love, returned the following day, fell into the trap and was put in a cage.
She looked at the bird every day. There he was, the object of her passion, and she showed him to her friends, who said: “Now you have everything you could possibly want.”
However, a strange transformation began to take place: now that she had the bird and no longer needed to woo him, she began to lose interest.
The bird, unable to fly and express the true meaning of his life, began to waste away and his feathers to lose their gloss; he grew ugly; and the woman no longer paid him any attention, except by feeding him and cleaning out his cage.
One day, the bird died. The woman felt terribly sad and spent all her time thinking about him. But she did not remember the cage, she thought only of the day when she had seen him for the first time, flying contentedly amongst the clouds.
If she had looked more deeply into herself, she would have realized that what had thrilled her about the bird was his freedom, the energy of his wings in motion, not his physical body.
Without the bird, her life too lost all meaning, and Death came knocking at her door.
“Why have you come?” she asked Death.
“So that you can fly once more with him across the sky,” Death replied.
“If you had allowed him to come and go, you would have loved and admired him ever more; alas, you now need me in order to find him again.”

– Eleven Minutes, Paulo Coelho.

 

 

And such is the way of life. We always want the best things in the world, yet we are rapacious; consumed by our greed to have and to hold these things…forever.

But who are we to decide what is ours for eternity? All things will come to an end – beauty fades, people die and even the flame burns out as the fuel runs low. Nothing is ever ours. Not even love.

Love comes and showers us with all its glory. Giving us the taste of the magic it sparks. But it doesn’t stay, for Love has much to do, much to give. And none to take away. What lingers behind are the memories of the laughter in the nights, those stolen sweet kisses, and the promises of everlasting love. Like pixie dust, they are all we have to keep our feet above the ground. If we don’t take care to replenish the pixie dust, some day the magic will run out and all we will be left with are mere ashes, charred remainder of the gift we once had.

 

So, I had a nice chat with a friend, a traveller. He told me that we can never put our hearts in a traveller, for he is never in one place. Like the beautiful bird in the story. Travellers are in love with their journeys, the adventures. They need to spread their wings, they need to fly – it is the essence of their existence. They enjoy the solace when they are crossing the Outback all alone, laying themselves to sleep in the middle of the desert while the vast universe watches over them. Yet, he said travellers do give their hearts out. I thought whoever receives them must be lucky. A traveller has his stories no other man would ever have; and when the time is right for them to settle down, they will do so with such ease that the only journey they want to make now, is the journey back home. Home to where his heart is now.

Just like the bird, he cannot be caged. It will only end up disastrous. He loses his purpose and what you see then will just be an empty shell, while his soul takes flight on an imaginary quest.

Just like the bird, I don’t think I can settle down quietly in one spot. Not just yet. Part of me knows that I yearn to fly and break free.

 

Is it all worth it then?

 

 

Well you only need the light when it’s burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you’ve been high when you’re feeling low
Only hate the road when you’re missin’ home
Only know you love her when you let her go
And you let her go

Staring at the bottom of your glass
Hoping one day you’ll make a dream last
But dreams come slow and they go so fast

 

You see her when you close your eyes
Maybe one day you’ll understand why
Everything you touch surely dies

 

But you only need the light when it’s burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go
Only know you’ve been high when you’re feeling low
Only hate the road when you’re missin’ home
Only know you love her when you let her go

Staring at the ceiling in the dark
Same old empty feeling in your heart
‘Cause love comes slow and it goes so fast

 

Well you see her when you fall asleep
But never to touch and never to keep
‘Cause you loved her too much
And you dived too deep

 

‘Cause you only need the light when it’s burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go
Only know you’ve been high when you’re feeling low
Only hate the road when you’re missin’ home
Only know you love her when you let her go

And you let her go.

 

 

 

‘Cause we don’t know what we have until it’s gone.

 

Toodles. ♥