The Dreamseller_ The Calling - Augusto Cury [27]
“Hey, Superego, if you’re too scared to stick around, we’ll still respect you. But you’re important to the team.”
I took a deep breath. I thought about the man who had stopped my suicide and brought me to sleep under a bridge. He’s not Christ, he has no messianic calling. He doesn’t perform miracles. He doesn’t promise the kingdom of heaven, or an earthly realm, and he doesn’t even provide us safety in society. He had nowhere to live, he’s broke, had no car, no health insurance. But he had an incredibly magnetic personality. He was the definition of solidarity, he dreamed of opening people’s minds, of fighting the system and confronting selfishness.
Wouldn’t it be less dangerous to just let society go on being an insanity factory? Wouldn’t it be better to let people wallow in their own selfishness? Wouldn’t it be easier to let obtuse minds go on thinking only about the superficial mysteries of shopping centers, computers and fashion instead of the mysteries of existence? We’re too small to do anything against the powerful system, anyway. We could be arrested, injured and continue to have our names dragged through the mud.
While this circus was playing in my mind, the dreamseller was still in the center ring performing wondrous feats. Patience was his number one virtue. Seeing my worry, he called the three of us together and told us a simple parable that touched the depths of my fears.
“There was once a flood in an immense forest. The weeping clouds that should have promoted life this time predicted death. The larger animals fled, leaving even their offspring behind. In their stampede, they devastated everything in their path. The smaller animals followed their steps. Suddenly, a small swallow, completely soaked, flew in the opposite direction, looking for someone to save.
“The hyenas, seeing this, were astonished. They said, ‘You’re insane. What can you possibly do with that fragile little body?’ The vultures groused, ‘Just look at how tiny you are.’ Wherever the fragile swallow flew, it was ridiculed. But it continued seeking someone to rescue. Its wings were fluttering wearily when it spied a baby hummingbird thrashing in the water, ready to give up. Despite never having learned to swim, the swallow plunged into the water and, struggling terribly, grabbed the tiny bird by its left wing. It flew off, carrying the infant in its beak.
“When it returned, it encountered other hyenas, who quickly declared, ‘This is crazy! You’re just trying to be a hero!’ But the swallow didn’t stop, despite its fatigue, until it had deposited the little hummingbird in a safe place. Hours later, it found the hyenas in a shady spot. Looking them in the eyes, it told them, ‘I only feel worthy of my wings if I make use of them so others can fly.’”
The dreamseller let this story marinate in our minds, then told us:
“There are many hyenas and vultures in society. Don’t expect much from the large animals. Rather, expect a lack of understanding, rejection, ridicule and a sick need for power. I don’t call you to be great heroes, to have your feats recorded in the annals of history, but to be small swallows who fly anonymously throughout society, loving strangers and doing for them whatever you can. Be worthy of your wings. It is in insignificance that great significance is achieved, and in smallness that great acts are realized.”
The dreamseller’s parable at once moved me and wounded me deeply. I thought, “I have to admit I’ve acted like a hyena or a vulture on many occasions in my life; now I need to learn how to act like a brave