Wings and a Chain

WINGS AND A CHAIN

Mark F. Graham

I can't remember the first time I saw him, with his wings and chain. At first he always seemed far away and easy to ignore. But as time passed he seemed to move in closer upon me, and I became more aware of him, and more fearful. Wherever I went he seemed to have either just been there, was there at the time of my arrival, or arrived soon afterwards. I could often see him off in the distance, waiting and watching, his chain in one hand and the wings in the other. It was the chain that scared me. Whenever I saw it, I quickened my pace and tried to distance myself from him. Sometimes he came so close I could hear the tinkle of the chain, and would cringe in fear, hiding in frantic activity. He never imposed, but I always knew he would be there when I slowed down and looked around. He seemed to have incredible patience, and, despite my avoidance, pursued me relentlessly.

Along the way it began to dawn on me that it was not good for a man to run and hide. It was tough to face however, because I knew, deep down, that I would have to confront him - and the chain. And the closer I came to the knowledge of that confrontation, the larger and heavier the chain appeared. I began to spend most of my time planning how to avoid the chain. The wings, however, continued to attract me to him.

It finally happened. I had run long and hard that day only to find that he was already there at the end of the run. I tried to hide in my regular pursuits, but they were meaningless, and the meaninglessness frustrated me, and I lashed out at him in anger and frustration. I gave him no time to speak, but immediately lambasted him with my conditions of our relationship. I confessed to him that he was certainly fascinating, and that there seemed to be some truth in what he represented, but I made it clear that we would progress on my terms. I began explaining to him why I should not and could not be subjected to the chain. But before I could complete my lengthy rationalization, I realized that he was offering the wings to me. He was holding the chain partially out of sight, behind his back, as if he knew it was offensive to me, and he was holding the wings out, toward me. I don't know how long he had been holding them out in that way, perhaps from the beginning of my monologue.

Then, a most amazing thing happened. I can't explain it. It changed my life. It happened when, while reaching out to take the wings, for the first time, I looked into his eyes. He did not seem to be offended, as I had expected. He was not angry. His eyes were not scolding me. He was not trying to convince me that I should take the chain, and he was not shaming me for not taking it. There was understanding in his eyes. It was as if he knew about the battles inside of me. It was as if he knew about the war. His eyes captivated and penetrated me and drew me into a world that I never knew existed - a fascinating, dazzling world, the brightness of which I could only bear for a moment. I withdrew quickly, in fear and embarrassment, from his gaze. My eyes fell to the ground at his feet. I felt both warm and cold inside at the same time. I dared not look into his eyes again, but rather hang-doggedly took the wings and turned away.

After a while, with the help of my new wings, I was able to shake the feeling that he had left inside me: the feeling of inferiority, of cowardice, and loose-endedness.

I flew far and high. And it was exciting - really exciting - for a while. But after a while it seemed that each time I took flight the air was hot and stale in my face, and unrefreshing, like diving into a hot swimming pool. And, even though I flew into many strange lands where I had never journeyed, there always seemed to be something wrong - something missing. The water would be polluted, or the air, or the climate was bad, or the people wouldn't look at your face when they spoke, or they appeared weakly and sick. Many places where I stopped had beautiful gardens and orchards with flowers and fruits, and, just as it seemed that I had found the right place, I would learn that the flowers were plastic and the fruit poisonous or cancerous. I would then feel restless and compelled to take flight again, into the hot, stale air, searching - searching - for what?

I began to remember, more and more frequently, the encounter with him, and the look in his eyes, and the chain. Occasionally I thought I could see him, way out on some horizon, still waiting and watching, with his chain. Sometimes I would think about flying to him, confronting him again, and trying to understand him. Perhaps I could get a new pair of wings. Mine were worn, frayed and soiled beyond repair, and had the stains of the pollution of the lands into which I had flown. But these thoughts came and went. I wasn't even sure my wings could make it to him, he always seemed so far away now.

I eventually settled in a land. I knew it wasn't the right place, but I had come to believe that there was no right place. So I determined to make it right. I chose a place that was as close as I could find to my ideal, and began to work to change what I perceived to be the problems. It was a long, hard, fruitless battle, and it left me worn out, tired, hopeless, and feeling sorry for myself. A group of townspeople, angered by my attempts to change the system, had carried me to the outskirts of town and dumped me at the edge of a slimy, oil-slicked pool. There was nowhere that I cared to go, even if my oil-soaked wings would have carried me.

As I tried to gather my thoughts and set a new goal, some objective, even a short-term objective, a place to go, some direction, anything, as I was wiping the slime from my face and groping away from the pool - I saw him! He was more radiant than I remembered. Peace enveloped him and flowed around him like a living, glowing gaseous liquid. He held the chain in his hand. Suddenly I knew that it was what was lacking, what I had needed, and that now I was ready for it, and that he knew all of that too, and that was why he was here. I realized that he had never been far away, that he had always been there, very close, waiting and watching. I realized that what had drawn me to him was his love, and what had driven me away was his truth, and that now it was time for the chain.

I stepped forward, and with shaky courage looked again into his eyes. The intensity was the same as before - even more. I felt the necessary conflict of love and truth, and their oneness, in the highest form. I felt something high and holy that I had left far behind, or never known existed - something that is the object of all growth, the only legitimate reason for striving, and the only solution to strife. In his eyes I saw the beginning of the path that I knew would lead to the place that I had always searched for. Yet I saw also that this path led through lands in which there were battles to fight, far tougher than any I had yet fought. But they were meaningful battles! And the beginning of the path was the chain. The chain was before me, meaninglessness in all other directions.

As I took my end of the chain from his outstretched hand, I noticed that there was no key-slot on the handcuff. The other end was already locked onto his wrist. As I locked my end onto my wrist, I felt for the first time since I could remember that I had done something right, in the real sense of the word. I felt strengthened inwardly. And I was delighted to see that I had a brand new pair of wings!

I've been flying with him now for some time. The chain was quite cumbersome at first, and I kept flying off in the wrong direction, only to be snatched back by it, like a young dog his first time on a leash. But he has led me into some beautiful places that I could have never found on my own. And as we travel together, his way becomes my way, and I often forget about the chain, except occasionally when I see a place that looks so good as we travel by, and I think that I would like to stop in for a "break", or some "excitement"; it is the knowledge of the chain that keeps me from making those mistakes. I am thankful that there is no way to remove the chain, for there have been times when I would have, when he leads me into battles or over cold mountain ranges, and it seems that we are never going to arrive. But always we have arrived - in always more beautiful places. And something I had never experienced – joy – began blossoming in my soul.

The chain has evolved into an invisible living cord connecting his heart with mine. He flies into some places that I am not yet capable of going, and I am still unable to look into his eyes for more than a few moments. But I have learned enough about him to know that he is the way, the truth, and the life, just like he said. The chain, which I feared, has become my only freedom, giving meaning to the flight of my wings. I don't know exactly where he is taking me, but I travel on joyfully with him, learning more and more about him, taking more and more of him into me. I look forward to the time when my love and courage will be strong enough to face up to all the truth, so that I will be able to look into his eyes, fully and completely at one with him in his freedom.

Mark F. Graham