The Invisible Hand
I am a kite. Lonesome and without aim, I sit perched upon the shelf. Eagerly waiting for a passer-by to look at me, pick me up and admire my beauty. I sit in the hope that someone will see me for what I really am; beyond the thin colorful sheets of paper and delve into the intricately woven streams of color that complement the hues of red and gold in the sky when the sun begins to retire for the day. Spanning the vast skies, I see other kites like me; each with its own individual identity.
My attention is drawn up towards those that fly oh so high! Especially the bright red one, which tops them all! It is bright, ambitious and bears the desire to touch the uppermost limits of the skies. And so it soars most elegantly, with the wind as its trustworthy companion. The wind takes it higher and higher, near its goal until it is just a red dot, insignificant to those of us down below, but worthy of praise for the tremendous heights it has reached. A true accomplishment indeed.
Just then, I think to myself, “Is is not flying too high? What if in its pursuit to reach higher and higher, the kite compromises its bond with the string which controls it and keeps it connected? Its only source of life is the string.” I watch as my worst fears materialize. The expert manning the string happily watches the red kite as it rises in its glory, but soon enough the red kite escapes, freeing itself from the grips of the string. It soars free.
But for how long? I continue to watch as the red kite slows its motion and drifts. It is lost and steadily spiraling downward, torn to the ground by the very same wind which carried it a while back. The red kite lies lifeless in the dirt now. Without the support of its string and its master, it is defenseless against numerous hands that tug at it, tearing it to pieces in the desire that they should be the ones to possess the kite which had seen such great heights. In the end, each pair of hands walks away with but a shred of red colored paper from the kite.
I look on and ponder. The winds that took it so high once upon a time were now useless at protecting it from harm. Without the security of the string, the kite lost its very existence. I look at the loving hands that hold my string and promise that I will abide by the gentle tugs, reminding me of the presence of my true companion always. I will heed my Master’s subtle calls to soar high, yet remain in constant touch. I will play into the hands of the wind, allowing it only to help me on my journey insofar as it takes me to where I want to go. But if the winds play at me so that I begin to drift far from my Master, I shall part company with the wind and fly on the wings of the string, back to my faithful and loving source. For it is only in the hands of my Master that I find my existence. With no Master to man may string, I lie meaninglessly on this shelf without life.
This string is our lifeline — our soul — and like an invisible hand, the Master lends us support, sometimes gently and sometimes with firmness. At times, we ride on the winds freely to reach the heights we so yearn to reach. This wind is life. We trust the power of the wind, believing it to be loyal and faithful. And so, whatever activities we engage in during the course of our lives, we must always ensure that the string is well maintained and intact. We need to yield when the Master pulls the string. The persistent, yet gentle tugging and pulling is a reminder to us that wherever we may be today, we can find our connection back to our Master because are destined to go home.
And when opportunities knock at our door, he loosens the string to give us the room and the space to fly high and apply our efforts in this game of life. He is watchful over us at every step, never entrusting us fully to the winds of life. And so the string tugs us back, we are reminded of the fate of the once-bright red kite, which sought to soar the skies without the companionship of its master. It never got to go home. It lay broken and torn, amidst the company of strangers.
What better way than to leave ourselves permanently attached to the Master with the special connection our souls share with him? It is only in his company that we can experience the greatest happiness. So let us yield to his hold, entrusting our strings in his capable hands.