A Heavy Bird-en

A short story about enlightenment in modern times.

Within the sprawling chaos of a countryside garbage dump, towering mounds rose like mountains made from discarded treasures and wasted dreams.

Amidst the labyrinth of trash, a strange community thrived—bats, a rat, a raccoon, a parrot, a weary man who oversaw the dump, and a flock of gulls. Drawn to the endless bounty within these fenced walls, the gulls settled comfortably into routine, their instincts for flight gradually replaced by insatiable appetites. Over time, their once-sleek bodies grew heavy. Once proud masters of the winds, the gulls now waddled awkwardly, their wings burdened by years of indulgence, resembling chickens more than the graceful birds they once were. Most of the gulls even forgot they ever flew at all.

One cool morning, as dawn painted the dump in shades of pale gold, a wise owl perched serenely in a lone tree by the edge of the dump. Watching the gulls below, he called softly, “You know, they're planning to bulldoze this place. Condominiums are coming.”

The gulls erupted in panic. “They can’t do that!” they squawked. “What will become of us?”

“Fly away,” the owl responded simply, shrugging his wings indifferently.

Disturbed by the owl’s revelation, the gulls convened anxiously. They knew something was terribly wrong: they could no longer fly, failing at every attempt. Perhaps, they reasoned, they’d forgotten a crucial secret, something vital that could return their flight. Seeking wisdom, they turned to the fabled sages of the sacred heaps.

First, they approached the “Mystical Bats,” admired for their graceful nighttime flight. “What is the secret to flight?” they asked. The bats pointed upward toward glittering heavens, whispering cryptically, “The answer lies in celestial alignments. Wait until the stars and moon speak clearly.” The gulls obeyed, spending long nights gazing hopefully skyward. But when the celestial signs arrived, their frantic attempts at flight failed. Most of the gulls feeling failure abandoned the Mystical Bats, though some stayed, forever gazing upward, waiting.

Next, the flock sought the counsel of the “All-Seeing Rat.” His towering trash mountain, rich with scraps, gleamed like an altar. The Rat, sunning atop his heap, pronounced with mysterious certainty, “I have seen all! You will indeed fly again... someday. Until then, bring me cheese, and I shall reveal the secrets.” Diligently, the gulls scoured the dump, feeding the Rat in exchange for wisdom. Days became weeks, and weeks months, until the gulls realized the Rat, fattened and idle, had never once tasted flight. And so they left. Yet some continued bringing cheese, desperately clinging to empty promises.

Then the flock approached the “Powerful Parrot,” beloved pet of the yardmaster, seated regally on his perch beside the yardmaster’s hut. “Oh powerful parrot, you who commune between bird and mankind, we seek the secret of flight!” implored the gulls.

“I no longer have need of flight,” the parrot replied, “but I shall speak to mankind and bring you the very secret you seek.” After consulting the yardmaster, the parrot squawked proudly, mimicking the man's voice, “Jet fuel! Jet fuel! Jet fuel!” The gulls stared blankly, unsure what jet fuel even was, yet believing it held hidden truth.

Dutifully, they searched tirelessly among garbage heaps, finding only more tempting morsels. Again and again, they returned, only to hear the parrot repeat the meaningless phrase until some departed, disheartened. Yet others remained, convinced the secret lay within the channeled words.

Next, the gulls climbed the heap of the “Pious Raccoon,” revered keeper of sacred truths. Surrounded by piles of ancient books, the raccoon sat sunning himself. The gulls asked him for the secret to flight, and with able hands, he opened a sacred book, pointing toward the highest trash heap. “Flight can be found atop that sacred summit! Provide me snacks daily, and I'll teach you the sacred path.” Eagerly, gulls delivered offerings, devouring his wisdom—and his food. Soon, however, they realized the raccoon himself had neither scaled the peak nor ever known flight. Disillusioned, many gulls left, though a few remained, enthralled by endless lectures.

Lost and uncertain, the gulls argued fiercely—about winds, foods, timing, and heaps—feeding anxieties with consumption and endless debate.

Amid this noise, unnoticed, one quiet gull wandered away to seek solitude. Walking between towering heaps, he stumbled upon a glimmering object half-buried in trash. Curious, he approached and found himself staring into a mirror. Gazing into its reflective surface, he hesitated, uncertain of the stranger looking back. Only his eyes seemed familiar—those same eyes that once sparkled joyfully as he soared over ocean waves as a fledgling, reflected clearly in long-forgotten rain puddles.

Entranced, he remained there, contemplating his reflection. Days passed, unnoticed. Gradually, clarity emerged. He recognized the heavy, bloated shape as himself, burdened by overindulgence, ensnared by illusions of external wisdom. He found this recognition painful yet liberating.

Driven by newfound insight, he distanced himself from the flock, abandoning the rat’s heap, the raccoon’s lessons, and the parrot’s channeled wisdom. He fasted, walked often, and reflected deeply upon his existence. Each day he returned to the mirror, shedding excess, becoming lighter, closer to the bird he remembered.

Finally, the feared "Day of the Bulldozer" arrived. Engines roared, the ground trembled, and the gulls scattered in terror. They begged for salvation from the Rat, the Raccoon, and the Parrot, but found only helpless, panicked creatures trapped by their own indulgences. Their sacred heaps toppled, burying these false sages.

Yet the lone gull, now lean and clear-minded, climbed and found himself standing serenely atop the highest heap—the peak none had ever reached. Beneath him, the mound shook violently as machines advanced. In the distance, perched in his usual tree, the wise owl watched calmly, eyes filled with anticipation. Their gazes locked, and as the bulldozer lurched forward, the owl cried out, “Jump!”

The gull took a deep breath, feeling the weightlessness he'd earned, and with nothing left but faith, leapt boldly into the unknown. Wind filled his feathers, lifting him skyward. He felt a familiar sensation—the long-forgotten sensation of boundless freedom found within.

Soaring joyfully above the ruins below, he met the owl in flight. The wise bird chuckled gently, nodding toward the wide horizon ahead. “Come,” the owl said warmly, eyes twinkling knowingly, “you must be hungry.”

Fin

The Secret to Flight

There was no hidden tool or secret knowledge the gull needed to reclaim flight. The ability was always within him. It was only by freeing himself from his endless appetite—for knowledge, validation, and external solutions—that he found time for true reflection, shedding everything unnecessary. The gull released his desire for external answers and, in doing so, rediscovered himself.

I did not write this story to discount spiritual tools and knowledge. My existence in this present moment can be perceived as such a tool. Spiritual tools and knowledge are stepping stones designed to help you overcome the illusion of who you think you are, gently guiding you back toward the authentic self already within. No individual becomes more enlightened because of the tool or knowledge. They become enlightened through what the tools or knowledge uncovers within. 

The truth is, the real you is far greater than any reading, belief system, planetary alignment, dogma, secret teaching, or channeled wisdom could ever reveal. You are not merely a piece of something larger—you are a part of and inseparable from the All, God. To think you are separate is to feel disconnected, yet you've never truly been disconnected.

Until you reflect and fully embrace this truth, you may remain weighed down, heavy with accumulated knowledge, tools, and external promises that distract you from genuine flight. The spirit within you IS the tool. No external guidance can grant you flight; it can only guide you back to your own reflection or lead you away from it. You are greater than all the tools combined.

You were born with wings. 

Do you remember them?