It was a dark and stormy June night. In a little North Carolina town, rain poured out of the menacing clouds, as spectacular fireworks of lightning flashed across the horizon. The thunder crashed and roared the roar of a thousand tigers. A symphony of Mother Nature’s wrath played on throughout the night. The nurse looked outside from the windows of a small hospital, peering into the darkness, fearful of a sudden power outage, a tornado, or the millions of things that could go wrong. Then, as legend has it, the storm suddenly stopped, revealing a bright summer day. The pitch black clouds morphed into ones of milky white complexion. The bolts of lightning transformed into rays of sunlight. And with that, I was born.
. . . . .

For the first 5 years of my life, I lived in a big house in a small town somewhere in North Carolina. My house was located in a remote community. I had few neighbors, but occasionally some friends would come to visit. But “play dates” were rare, so most of my time was spent alone. And so, given the large size of my house, and the vast, unexplored grounds of the plains and woods in my backyard, naturally, I was an inquisitive child. I questioned and explored everything. Many hours of my life were spent on thinking about how candy was made, and other thoughts a 5 year old had. They were highly impractical, but intriguing enough to keep me busy for a while. Life to me felt like a forest of the unknown, filled to the brim with secrets and mysteries that lie within. At that age, I was set on discovering these mysteries. Nothing else seemed to matter to me.

One cool, brisk spring day, while I was coming back from a morning walk with my mother, I saw a peacock by the road. It was tall, about my height; maybe taller, maybe shorter. But what caught my attention were its colors. Its body radiated a deep blue, while its head gave off a sharper teal color. The green and red feathers rested on the peacock with tension, as if it were guarding something within. My mother and I stared at the peacock for a while, while it stared back at us, motionless, like a statue. But as my mother turned to leave, the peacock spread its wings. The inner feathers of its wings were thousands of times more impressive than the exterior feathers, including all the colors of the spectrum. From bright red to dark blue, from black to white, the inner feathers did not discriminate. It simply included all, and excluded none. While I was admiring the infinite colors on the peacock, I noticed the spots on the feathers. Peering into these perfectly oval spots, I saw the world. I saw its problems and its solutions, from the barren lands of Antarctica, to the peaceful monasteries in Tibet, to the busy lands of the United States. I saw marriages fail and innocent men get killed. But I also saw the look of genuine happiness on a man, who, struggling to pay his bills and keep his family afloat, finally received the dream job he deserved. I saw a small glimpse to the answer of life; the answer I had been chasing forever.

“Come on, it’s time to go home. We can find another peacock tomorrow”, my mother said.

At that moment, the peacock closed its feathers, sheathing the truth. As I turned my head to look at it one last time, it was gone.

That night, I consulted with my pet, a stuffed Tigger toy, whether I would see the peacock again, and whether I would be able to catch it and keep it. Any time I was confused about what to do, I always asked the stuffed Tigger. I held him as my equal, as he always communicated the truth, whether I liked the truth or I despised it. Without a single word being spoken, he told me that I would come in contact with the peacock again, and that I would always be trying to catch it. And so, without any exchange of dialogue, our conversation ended, and I went to sleep satisfied.

As it turns out, a week later, I saw the peacock again. I was watching TV and doodling, when something caught my eye. There it was, the big bird, standing in the distance on the green grass in my backyard. And so, there I was, in between crossroads. The scene morphed into a forked road, with me standing in the middle. The right road meant I would continue watching TV and doodling; that I would keep doing what I did well. The left meant that I would leave the security of my TV and my pencil to pursue the unknown.

And so, I went left, opened the back door, and ran into the backyard. There it was, the majestic bird, standing on the border of my backyard and the woods behind it. Then, turning its head, it walked into the woods, and stopped again. As I ran up to the border of the woods, I stopped as well, staring at the tall trees that towered over me. Looking behind me, I saw the safe sanctuary of my house. Once again, the forked road came up, as I wondered if I should leave the security of my home. Once again, I chose to walk into the unknown.

“Alright, bird, spread your wings!” I demanded. I then flapped my arms in an attempt to get the peacock to open its wings.

The peacock simply stared at me. Then, it suddenly turned around, and ran off into the woods. Without a moment to spare, I set off right after it.

I ran and ran for what seemed like hours. No matter how fast I ran, the peacock seemed just out of reach. Occasionally, I would stare at the sky to try to tell the time. But even the sky gave no answers. The closer I got to the peacock, the brighter the sky got. I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I knew I had to go forward, and I knew I had to get that bird.

Sometimes, there would be a forked path. Whenever I came across one of these, the bird would disappear. But I never lost the bird. No matter what path I took, I would always catch up to the bird, but never physically be able to get the bird. Sometimes, it took longer for me to catch up, but it would always be there. It was a never ending cycle. I do not remember what I thought during the chase, only that I knew I must get the bird. I ran, and ran, and ran. Just as I was about to give up, I reached a clearing. The sky was dark now. A patch of moonlight shined through an opening in the trees, where the peacock stood and rested. I slowly walked up to it, exhausted from the run.

“So, you caught me. I always grant those who catch me a truth, because they are capable of handling the truth. Then, I will fly away, one truth lighter”, explained the peacock slowly. “In the future, you may try to catch me again. But you will be heavier, and I will be lighter.” It then opened its wings, color and light flowing out of the spots on its feathers.

And so, in the end, after all the effort, I only got one truth. I pondered for minutes, hours, maybe even days, as the peacock stood stationary, awaiting my answer. As I thought, the peacock emitted rivers of color, changing the setting around me to emulate my thoughts. I had to think of a single question that would encompass all that I would want to know. But then I realized that such a question would be impossible. The world existed to be questioned an infinite amount of times, not just once. And so my thought process changed from questioning the world, to questioning myself. While I was busy trying to question the world, I had not bothered to explore who I am, and what I am. Why was I here, why did I exist, how did I exist? And so, I thought of a question that would embody the entirety of my existence. And so I asked.

“How did I come into existence?”
. . . . .

Now that I’m older, I’ve lost touch with my youth. My days do not comprise of watching TV, doodling, going for morning walks, or chasing after rainbow colored birds anymore. I feel like I’ve been spiritually disconnected with my younger self, but physically, I’m still the same person. My stuffed Tigger is now my little brother’s. I now consult Google and Wikipedia for my answers.

But there’s one thing that has remained the same. I’m still searching for the truth; for an answer. I still want to know. I haven’t taken a trip through the woods since that single trip, but every day, in my mind, I embark on that journey. I just haven’t caught the bird yet. I’ve grown heavy with answers I’ve learned in school about science, math, history, and more. Each choice I make, each road on a forked path I take, I become slightly closer to the answer. Someday I’ll catch that thing.
After I moved to Maryland, my backyard changed from the woods to a simple grass field. Maybe one day I’ll go back.