Friday, December 14, 2007

Chicken or Eagle

Chicken or Eagle


A long time ago in a remote valley, there
  lived a farmer. One day he got tired of the
  daily routine of running the farm and
  decided to climb the cliffs that brooded
  above the valley to see what lay beyond.

  He climbed all day until he reached a ledge
  just below the top of the cliff; there, to
  his amazement was a nest, full of eggs.

  Immediately he knew they were eagle's eggs
  and, even though he knew it was profoundly
  un-ecological and almost certainly illegal,
  he carefully took one and stowed it in his
  pack; then seeing the sun was low in the
  sky, he realized it was too late in the day
  to make the top and slowly began to make his
  way down the cliff to his farm.

  When he got home he put the egg in with the
  few chickens he kept in the yard. The mother
  hen was the proudest chicken you ever saw,
  sitting atop this magnificent egg; and the
  cockerel couldn't have been happier.

  Sure enough, some weeks later, from the egg
  emerged a fine, healthy egret. And as is in
  the gentle nature of chickens, they didn't
  balk at the stranger in their midst and
  raised the majestic bird as one of their
  own.

  So it was that the eagle grew up with its
  brother and sister chicks. It learned to do
  all the things chickens do: it clucked and
  cackled, scratching in the dirt for grits
  and worms, flapping its wings furiously,
  flying just a few feet in the air before
  crashing down to earth in a pile of dust and
  feathers.

  It believed resolutely and absolutely it was
  a chicken.

  One day, late in its life, the
  eagle-who-thought-he-was-a-chicken happened
  to look up at the sky. High overhead,
  soaring majestically and effortlessly on the
  thermals with scarcely a single beat of its
  powerful golden wings, was an eagle!

  "What's that?!", cried the old eagle in awe.
  "It's magnificent! So much power and grace!
  It's beautiful!".

  "That's an eagle", replied a nearby chicken,
  "That's the King of the Birds. It's a bird
  of the air... not for the likes of us. We're
  only chickens, we're birds of the earth".

  With that, they all cast their eyes
  downwards once more and continued digging in
  the dirt.

  And so it was that the eagle lived and died
  a chicken... because that's all it believed
  itself to be.

See, we're not really born chickens or eagles,
predestined to fail or succeed. We are all
about as successful as we DECIDE to be, aren't
we? We become what we think about.


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