Oh Fearless One

I went for a walk in the park in the evening. I saw a pigeon on the ground that could not fly. People had kept water and lots of food around him, but the pigeon was not eating. I saw two ladies around him trying to get some help. I asked the lady, “What are you planning to do with this bird? “

She said, “Let us place the pigeon on a high wall to keep him safe”. 

She was afraid to hold him, so I was. I knew how birds could react to the human touch, and had some experience from before. I went close to the bird, and hesitantly, I touched the bird and was amazed. The bird had no resistance. Maybe the bird wanted help.

I held him and found no injuries on his body. I tried to place him on a high platform, but felt there was no place saver for him.  Without much thinking, I decided to take him home. Holding the bird in my hand, I started walking towards my home. I thought it must have been uncomfortable for him that he could not move at all, but he was so relaxed. I placed him on the balcony and kept water and food for him.

The next morning, when I opened the door, the bird walked into my room comfortably as if it were the owner of the house. He was enjoying himself, but still could not fly. I thought, “Why is this little bird not afraid of anything?”

He was not eating or drinking anything and limping occasionally. It came to me that he might be an aged old pigeon. He was meditating with me, rather, I was meditating with him. I was enjoying his company.  

In the evening, I sent him back to the balcony, and there was no resistance from him again. In the late evening, while I was watching television, he was comfortably sitting in silence and relaxing. I watched him through the window.

I was eager to meet him the next morning. When I opened the door, he started taking quick, small circles to express his happiness.

We again enjoyed each other’s company. In the afternoon, I brought water close to his beak, but he closed his eyes and turned his head to the other side. The next early morning, it was the first day of Navratri, and I found him dead peacefully.  I buried him in the park. 

The bird reminded me of my master Per.H.Wibe. Despite his fragile outer condition- body stiffness, sleepless nights, the struggle to stand, lie down, walk, or even change clothes- his will to live remains unwavering. His positively never collapses. When I speak to him, he is more eager to know about my health and life. He always makes me laugh. His silence grows stronger with each passing day.

Anyone else in such a condition might beg God for release. He feels the opposite. His inner state remains untouched by outer misery. This strength comes from a deeply cultivated inner life. 

I remember my own time in the hospital after my daughter’s birth, when I had come close to death. My body felt like a prison. Watching others eat felt strange and meaningless. I had lost interest in everything. I felt trapped inside the cage of my body and longed to escape it. It was a dark and suffocating time. 

When I look at the contrast now, I understand something deeper. I can feel my master’s physical suffering, yet his inner condition is beyond imagination. The body weakens, but his silence grows stronger each day. Where most of us would beg for escape, he remains steady, without complaint, rather grateful to live. That is his strength. It does not shout but shines out. A falling body, yet no fear in him. No panic. No anger. As if he trusts existence itself. 

Perhaps this is the hidden purpose of life – to discover the place within us that pain cannot reach.  Peace is possible even in helplessness.