I am a little bird which is just learning to fly. Few flaps a day, and I'm off to to go. Then all of a sudden it came to my attention: when I fly lower, nothing notices me; and I am just alright. When I start to soar higher, other birds notice me and say how well I am doing. The funny thing is, I'm always carried away by little appreciation that I easily lose balance and go down thrice as much faster as I soar. Too much concentration on my abilities perhaps; or my concentration is focused much on what the other birds have to say about me? The latter is nearer to the truth; and a truth that a tiny bird like me must conquer. There is no greater conquest than conquering oneself, as the sages say.
I'm flying because that is what my life is all about. My ancestors have flown to greatest heights, sans the others who did not. But the process of learning to fly is much, much difficult as I imagine it to be. Sometimes I soar. Other times I fall. Balance is a little key; but focus is the main ingredient. Focus is being in the flow, being in the moment, being in IT. Actually, I'm not learning to fly because I don't know how to do it; I'm just re-membering how is it to fly; for flying is already in my deep consciousness. It is the flesh and bone of everything that my ancestors have left me.