On a distant world not quite unlike our own– albeit quite a bit colder– a population of mildly intelligent elk roamed a vast boreal forest that stretched from pole to pole. Or so the legend goes at least. These elk reportedly had a relatively functional nomadic society, although the extent to which we would consider them civilized is unclear. Whatever the case may be, they certainly had something at least resembling civilization. They roamed the woods during the warmer months, and during winter they built temporary homes to shelter themselves from falling snow. They had political, legal, and religious institutions that shaped their society. And, in true testament to their mild intelligence, they looked down on anything that was not an elk.
But this is not a story about elk; this is a story about the lone eagle born into this society who was destined to be alone.
You may rightfully wonder how a society of elk gave birth to an eagle, and I too find this to be an extremely inconsistent part of the story. Nonetheless, as the story goes, a lone eagle was born into a family of successful elk. You will have to just take this for granted.
The eagle was bullied relentlessly from the time he was a hatchling. He looks so odd! And what are those gross appendages adhered to his torso? And he is so slow! The general sentiment of the elk community was that this eagle was indeed, at the very least, a terrible example of an elk. The more liberal elk thought that the eagle perhaps had a rare genetic disorder that made it look so monstrous and deformed. And the more conservative elk thought that the eagle should be set on fire and thrown off a cliff. Even the eagle’s own home provided little respite. The eagle’s family attempted to smile, and to their credit they did raise the eagle as their own– but the public shame associated with raising such a disfigured creature was a shame upon the family, and behind closed doors they disparaged the poor thing.
(A brief note about perspective. There were no native eagles on this world, and therefore the elk community had no concept of an eagle. As such, the elk only looked at the eagle through the conceptual lens of being an elk. Thus their perspective that the eagle was really just a terribly malformed and wretched elk.)
Public elk school was difficult for the eagle. Although he excelled in his studies, he struggled to relate to any of the elk. Some of the more sensitive elk took pity on him and were nice, but the overall majority were cruel and impatient towards his differences. Thus the eagle laid awake each night imagining a world where he could find home– a world where he would not be mocked and bullied relentlessly for his failures to be an elk in the way his peers could be.
As the eagle progressed from adolescence and into early adulthood, a fire began to burn in his heart. He began to grow resentful towards the elk community at large, and he often became antagonistic towards both his local community and the elk society at large. He began to hold heretical opinions about elkhood that postulated that they were the ones lacking. He would say that he was the ‘correct’ thing, and that it was wrong to be an elk– a reversal of the sentiment held by the elk. But this spite was pointless and only led to further mockery. Of course all the elk thought he was just a pathetic little misfit, so nobody took his criticism seriously. The only thing the eagle’s growing rage led to was further belittlement and mockery.
The eagle could take no more. He realized that the elk would never accept him for who he was, and that so long as he stayed his life would only become worse. And so as the story goes, he ran away towards the ocean, the only place he had ever felt at home– the boundless ocean was a solitude that spoke truth into his heart. And the eagle sat on a cliff overlooking the sea for thirty days and nights. He watched the waves crash violently against the cliff, swirled into frenzy by gales from the poles. He watched fish jump out of the sea and get smashed against the rocks by the wind. And he watched the sea churn violently as if a tormented God himself was thrashing in his sleep. Then one day the eagle jumped.
…
It was on that fateful day the eagle discovered how to soar. The panic from his plummet caused him to unintentionally flap his wings, which ultimately saved his life.
And he thought– I can fly! Wait until those stupid elk see this. So he went back to the elk community that he was raised in with fury in his heart; the eagle was determined to show the elk that he was something just as valuable as them.
You can imagine how the elk reacted though. They could not understand what they could not understand, and so just as the people of Salem cried ‘Witch!’ so too did the elk cry out against the heathenry of flight. All the eagle had wanted all along was acceptance, and all he ended up finding was bitter rejection. Thus with a sad heart the eagle turned around and flew away towards an unknown horizon.
And he flew, and he flew, and onwards he flew until he was so tired he could not fly any longer. There he built a shelter for the night, and he laid awake by the fireside, wondering why. Why is it that I am so alone? Why is it that I am so different from the elk, when they are all the same? And most of all he looked at the stars and wondered if eaglehood was a blessing or a curse.
Then he flew, and he flew, and he flew some more. And one night by the fireside he asked the same why to the brightest star in the sky, and by the grace of God he swore that star winked back at him.