The Vulture and the Sun (An Ancient Parable): When Healing Costs You Everything

When I first encountered this ancient story, something in me went still in the way that only something deeply resonating can still you. Part of it was my love of the sun - that ancient, irreplaceable force that makes all life possible, that I have always felt not just as warmth on skin but as something personal, something sacred, something nurturing, loving, and alive. To hear a story in which the sun itself needed saving, and that only one creature in all the kingdom could do it landed in me before I even understood why.

HeartBalm is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

But it was more than that. It was my own healing journey looking back at me. The one that has so often felt pointless. Too hard. Too long. Too much asked of one person in one lifetime. And yet I keep moving forward. Not because I always believe it’s working. Not because the path is clear or the reward is visible or there is a reward at all. But because my sensitivity leaves me no other choice. I feel too much to stop. I care too much to turn away. Something in me simply will not abandon the climb, no matter the cost.

Maybe you know that feeling. If you have ever been told you are too sensitive, too deep, to emotional, too willing to feel what others move past without looking back, then this story is for you.

If you have done the heavy, invisible work of healing - your own wounds, your family’s wounds, wounds that were never yours to begin with and found yourself exhausted, unseen, transformed by the giving - this story is for you.

Let it land in you however it needs to sweet one.

The Vulture and The Sun

One day, the sun began to fall from the sky.

It tumbled down toward the earth, and every creature in the savannah watched in terror. Without the sun, all life would end - swallowed by cold and darkness. Something had to be done. Someone had to act.

The otter came first.

Quick-witted, rational, a creature of science and ingenuity, the otter began to build - a tower of intellect and clever construction, designed to haul the sun back to its place. But the sun crushed the tower. Its power was not of this plane, not of this land. No amount of intelligence could hold it.

Then came the lion.

Fierce, mighty, the king of the jungle. The lion would simply push the sun back with sheer force. But the lion had one eye, as it always does, on its own pride. On its stature, its image, how it appeared in the doing. Too proud to be fully burned. Too concerned with how it looked to give everything. It pushed just enough to be seen trying and then stopped.

Then came the elephant.

Wiser than the lion, stronger than the otter, with skin thick enough to bear the heat. The elephant tried with everything it had. But it soon understood something devastating: it was bound to the earth. It could not leave the ground. Could not leap into the air. Could not exchange one realm for another. Wisdom, as great as it is, can only take you so far.

The elephant, too, gave up.

Now through all of this, the vulture had been watching.

In those ancient days, the vulture was breathtaking. Long, slender, iridescent feathers covering its entire body - its head, its neck, its wings - a plumage of extraordinary beauty. And as it watched the others fail, the vulture understood something none of them had grasped.

This task did not require intelligence alone.

It did not require pride, or brute strength, or even wisdom.

It required the willingness to give yourself completely. To care nothing for what it cost you.

So the vulture did not hesitate. It took the sun onto its head - burning, blinding, ferocious - and launched itself from the earth with a force so immense, so fully committed, that the weight of the sun began to lift.

Its feathers burned as it climbed.

First the head. Then the neck. Then the body. Its beauty - the thing it had always been seen and known for - was being stripped away in real time.

And the vulture did not stop.

It did not flinch. It did not look down to check how it appeared or calculate what it was losing. It pushed and climbed and gave until it transcended all space and time and became one with the sky - with the clouds, with the furthest reaches of the heavens.

And the sun, in that moment, finally understood.

Here was the one it had been waiting for. The one that could unify all realms. The one equally at home in the dirt of the earth and the fire of the sky. The vulture pushed the sun back to the very uttermost tip of the heaven, and then fell. Fell all the way back down to earth. From the divine to the ground.

Its feathers burned to nothing.

No longer the most beautiful. No longer adorned. Lying on the earth, exhausted, utterly transformed.

And the sun looked down on this creature that had given everything without asking for anything and gave the vulture a gift.

The gift of effortlessness.

The ability to stay in flight for hours without effort. Suspended, poised, vast - between heaven and earth. Watching over all life. Guardian of both worlds.

The whole process of this life and what must be faced is about healing. It’s about becoming whole. It’s about finding a way of living which brings something good out of it.

You were never the broken one. You were always the one doing what needed to be done. The sun has not forgotten. And neither have we.

With love, always Heartbalm Healing

I hope this meets you with love and understanding today. Please like, leave a comment, and subscribe for more HeartBalm Healing. As always, from my heart to yours!

Leave a comment

Share HeartBalm

Refer a friend

Read null in the Substack appAvailable for iOS and AndroidGet the appDISCLAIMER: Nothing on this website is a replacement for or supersedes the direction of your medical or mental health provider, nor is anything on this site a diagnosis, treatment plan, advice, or care for any medical or mental health illness, condition, or disease.

HeartBalm is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.