The Illusion of Love: A Lesson from the Eagle
The Illusion of Love: A Lesson from the Eagle
A young eagle, from a great distance, keenly observed a fish swimming in a pond. With patience and precision, it calculated the fish’s movement and waited for the perfect moment. When the fish neared the surface, the eagle swooped down with impeccable timing and snatched its prey. Triumphant, it soared high into the mountains, intending to perch on a tree and relish its well-earned meal.
Just as it neared its resting spot, a sudden noise caught its attention. Turning back, the young eagle saw a group of eagles rapidly closing in. Startled, it tried to flee, but they were faster and more experienced. They clawed at him, pecked viciously, and left him bewildered. In the chaos, the young eagle accidentally let go of the fish.
Instantly, the attackers abandoned him and dived after the falling fish. Bruised and shaken, the young eagle watched in realization—it was never about him. The other eagles weren’t after him; they were after what he had.
This was a powerful lesson—not just for the young eagle, but for all of us. "MOST"
People neither love nor hate you—it’s not who they love, but what they love; not who they want, but what they want. This truth holds in corporate life, politics, families, and all social dynamics.
I have seen many individuals retire from high-ranking positions in government and corporate sectors. Until their last working day, they are surrounded by admiration—constant attention, board meetings, grand luncheons, and a network of people eager to please. But the moment they step away from power, the adulation vanishes. The calls stop, visits dwindle, and they are no longer sought after.
The lesson is unmistakable: people don’t love you—they love what you represent. In this case, it was access, influence, and favorable decisions.
Another story to reflect:
Aryan loved visiting his grandfather every weekend. Every time he arrived, his grandfather greeted him with chocolates, toys, or some exciting new storybooks. Aryan would hug him tightly, sit on his lap, and eagerly listen to his tales.
One weekend, his grandfather had no gifts to give. Aryan ran to him excitedly but, upon realizing there was no toy, his enthusiasm faded. “Did you bring me something?” he asked. When his grandfather shook his head with a smile, Aryan sighed, mumbled a quick “Okay,” and ran off to play with his other friends.
His grandfather chuckled to himself. Aryan’s affection wasn’t for him—it was for what he brought. A valuable lesson, not just for the old man but for life itself.
That brings us to a choice. We can either stay true to ourselves—embrace life as it comes, and find peace in the fluctuating degrees of love we receive. Or, we can keep adapting, molding ourselves to others' expectations, and endlessly seeking validation.
The first path leads inward—to contentment and self-realization. The second is an endless, bottomless pit of desire—a pursuit that never truly satisfies.
The choice is ours.