Arjuna and the Little Bird

Long ago, in a quiet kingdom, a wise teacher named Drona taught archery to the young princes. Every afternoon they practised under a big old banyan tree, while the cicadas hummed and the warm wind rustled the leaves.

One day Drona carried a little wooden bird, painted bright blue, and tied it high in the branches. “Today,” he said, “I will test how well you can focus. Each of you will aim at the bird’s eye.” The princes lined up with their bows, excited.

The first prince stepped forward and raised his bow. “What do you see?” asked Drona. “I see the tree, the leaves, the sky, and my brothers standing beside me,” he said. Drona shook his head. “Step back. You see too much.”

(Tilt your head from side to side, as if looking at many things at once.)

The next prince looked up. “I see the branches, the bird, and the clouds above.” “Step back,” said Drona kindly. “Not yet.” One by one the princes tried, and each one saw a little too much of the world.

(Breathe in and out slowly with your child.)

Then it was Arjuna’s turn. He did not hurry. He closed his eyes for a moment and took one slow, deep breath, in, and out. The cicadas seemed to grow quiet. The leaves seemed to stop whispering.

(Say Arjuna’s words very slowly and calmly.)

Arjuna opened his eyes and drew his bow. “What do you see?” asked Drona. “I do not see the tree, Gurudev,” said Arjuna, in a calm, soft voice. “I do not see my brothers, or the sky. I see only the eye of the bird.”

A smile spread across Drona’s face. “Now release!” Whoosh! The arrow flew, straight and true, right to the mark. The princes gasped, and then they cheered. “Well done, Arjuna,” said Drona. “When you give your whole mind to one thing, you can do it.”

(Slow right down. Let the last breaths be real ones.)

That evening, when practice was over, the princes walked home under a sky full of stars. Arjuna remembered the quiet he had found inside himself with just one slow breath. You can find it too. Breathe in… and breathe out… Goodnight.