Genghis Khan and His Falcon

 

“Wounds from a sincere friend are better than many kisses from an enemy.” ~ Proverbs 27:6 NLT

This week I reflect on friendship, anger and rash actions. Out of the handful of people that form my inner circle, I am forever grateful that I am probably the most rash of them all. I am a learner of patience and that learning has come with great character development, but painful as that process has been, I do not regret where it has brought me.

People are fallible and for that reason, we will always rub each other the wrong way from time to time. However, if the friendship is valued, there is a desperate need to pull back, reflect and re-engage before you make rash judgement and lose a precious relationship. We don’t always know everything, or understand every reason why another person acts in a particular way. Patience is a great virtue where friendships are concerned.

Paulo Coelho tells it beautifully in the following story of Genghis Khan and His Falcon:

One morning, the Mongol warrior, Genghis Khan, and his court went out hunting.  His companions carried bows and arrows, but Genghis Khan carried on his arm his favourite falcon, which was better and surer than any arrow, because it could fly into the skies and see everything that a human being could not.

However, despite the group’s enthusiastic efforts, they found nothing. Disappointed, Genghis Khan returned to the encampment and in order not to take out his frustration on his companions, he left the rest of the party and rode on alone. They had stayed in the forest for longer than expected, and Khan was desperately tired and thirsty. In the summer heat, all the streams had dried up, and he could find nothing to drink. Then, to his amazement, he saw a thread of water flowing from a rock just in front of him.

He removed the falcon from his arm, and took out the silver cup which he always carried with him. It was very slow to fill and, just as he was about to raise it to his lips, the falcon flew up, plucked the cup from his hands, and dashed it to the ground.

Genghis Khan was furious, but then the falcon was his favorite, and perhaps it, too, was thirsty. He picked up the cup, cleaned off the dirt, and filled it again. When the cup was only half-empty this time, the falcon again attacked it, spilling the water.

Genghis Khan adored his bird, but he knew that he could not, under any circumstances, allow such disrespect; someone might be watching this scene from afar and, later on, would tell his warriors that the great conqueror was incapable of taming a mere bird.

This time, he drew his sword, picked up the cup and refilled it, keeping one eye on the stream and the other on the falcon. As soon as he had enough water in the cup and was ready to drink, the falcon again took flight and flew towards him. Khan, with one thrust, pierced the bird’s breast.

The thread of water, however, had dried up; but Khan determined how to find something to drink, climbed the rock in search of the spring. To his surprise, there really was a pool of water and, in the middle of it, dead, lay one of the most poisonous snakes in the region. If he had drunk the water, he, too, would have died.

Khan returned to camp with the dead falcon in his arms. He ordered a gold figurine of the bird to be made and on one of the wings, he had engraved:

“Even when a friend does something you do not like, he continues to be your friend.”

And on the other wing, he had these words engraved:

“Any action committed in anger is an action doomed to failure.

“Most misunderstandings in the world could be avoided if people would simply take the time to ask, "What else could this mean?” ~ Shannon L. Alder