There was this shiny black crow strutting about on the sand. He tilted his head to one side as he concentrated on a piece of bread. He picked it delicately in his beak, lifted his head and swallowed the morsel in a gulp. He then strutted to a stone and seriously sharpened his beak in practiced strokes. He had everything he wanted and life was peaceful.
All of a sudden he became still, his legs stretched, his claws pressed firmly into the soil. He leapt into the air and was off in a flutter of wings.
There was a sharp line between the safety of firm terrain and the thrill of flight. There was that moment of decision that would change his perception of things. He had to give up one for the other.
That firm push is required to propel us from what is to what can be.
I recall a sound advice that we received from a senior. ‘We are very good at planning to do things. We forget that we need to pick ourselves up and start doing those things!’
We often find ourselves at a threshold. The call of new adventure and the excitement of the unknown offer the thrill of flight. What we need is the courage to press into the soil, to jump and then to fly.