A Lesson from the Spirit

To the eagle soaring in the sky everything he observes ahead of him and beneath him seems fairly simple and vital.
Like a practiced algorithm of actions, followed by consequences.
Everything is simple and clear, predictable; even weather phenomena are anticipated by his behavior.
But people long ago abandoned that custom of seeing things as they are, as they were intended.
Other people's opinions, viewpoints, whispered rules, usurping demands, thoughts, desires, words—all merge into a single motif that distorts reality.
As a result, you stop feeling yourself, your true self, your real self.
But to unsee the habitual image of things you need only brush away that perishable veil that clouds your eyes, abstract yourself from everything imposed, invented, timed to the loss of your individuality.

Every eagle learns the same life path: he gains wings, rises, lives. Not by laws invented by others, but by the truth that flows in his veins.
From generation to generation, from life to life, accumulated knowledge is passed on. So that, left alone, he can survive.

"Genetic memory," you will say, and you will be partly right, but that is not all.
Genetic memory is the little that you inherit from clan to clan, waking as a single consciousness that links you to the past, to those who stand behind you and who begot you, like invisible links binding a single kin.
But if you are led by those bright lights that are spread around you, you will continue walking into nowhere, in complete confusion, despite the fact that those lights burn as if pointing your way, but that way is false, a path of oblivion.
The path of true destiny is laid within you by an unseen route, reuniting you with the kin and with the beginning of beginnings, where you will know the truth in yourself through the unfolding of your meaning as an indivisible unit of the whole. And no foreign plans or viewpoints will frighten you, all that alien which was instilled in you.

You will be cleansed of this burden and will find your unique meaning, drawn by that map of desire where you grasp the true, unified seed. So be it.