“He wasn’t alone after all. Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked turkey. Harry stared at it and the bird looked balefully back, making its gagging noise again. Harry thought it looked very ill. Its eyes were dull and, even as Harry watched, a couple more feathers fell out of its tail.
Harry was just thinking that all he needed was for Dumbledore’s pet bird to die while he was alone in the office with it, when the bird burst into flames.
Harry yelled in shock and backed away into the desk. He looked feverishly around in case there was a glass of water somewhere but couldn’t see one; the bird, meanwhile, had become a fireball; it gave one loud shriek and next second there was nothing but a smoldering pile of ash on the floor.
The office door opened. Dumbledore came in, looking very somber.
‘Professor,’ Harry gasped. ‘Your bird—I couldn’t do anything—he just caught fire—‘
To Harry’s astonishment, Dumbledore smiled.
‘About time, too,’ he said. ‘He’s been looking dreadful for days; I’ve been telling him to get a move on.’
He chuckled at the stunned look on Harry’s face.
‘Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him . . .’
Harry looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled, newborn bird poke its head out of the ashes. It was quite as ugly as the old one.
‘It’s a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day,’ said Dumbledore, seating himself behind his desk. ‘He’s really very handsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly faithful pets.’”
Ah, Fawkes.
You may recall that we get to see him at the end of the book when he makes an appearance in the Chamber of Secrets where he saves the day with his healing tears and ability to carry Harry, Ron, Ginny AND a forgetful Lockhart to safety.
But, in this scene, we meet our hero on a Burning Day. Today? His beautiful red and golden plumage is nowhere to be found. Instead, we get to see the ugly side of him.
And, alas, so it is with us. It would be awesome if we had our bright and shiny heroic plumage in full display every day, but that’s not quite how it works, eh? Those Burning Days are, well, a little ugly. (Hah.)
Let’s connect this wisdom to a couple other great teachers.
First, we have Joseph Campbell. Of course, he told us that a good life is basically one hero’s journey after another.
Imagine the beginning of a hero’s journey. That’s when you answer the call and step into the forest of the unknown. That’s a bit scary. In a sense, you need to die to an old version of yourself. In fact, he says “To have a resurrection one must first have a crucifixion.” Ouch.
Sounds a lot like our friend Fawkes, eh? We must burst in flames and then be born again from our ashes. The phase *right* before and after? Not so pretty.
And, if the good life is one hero’s journey after another (it is!) and the end of one journey and the beginning of the next is kinda like a crucifixion/burning (it is!) then we better get comfy looking kinda ugly on a regular basis.
Tragic but true. :)
Then we have Josh Waitzkin and his wisdom on the willingness to get burned in pursuit of greatness. Here’s how he puts it in The Art of Learning: “How can we incorporate these ideas into the real world? … My response is that it is essential to have a liberating incremental approach that allows for times when you are not in a peak performance state. We must take responsibility for ourselves, and not expect the rest of the world to understand what it takes to become the best that we can become. Great ones are willing to get burned time and again as they sharpen their swords in the fire. Consider Michael Jordan. It is common knowledge that Jordan made more last-minute shots to win the game for his team than any other player in the history of the NBA. What is not so well known, is that Jordan also missed more last-minute shots to lose the game for his team than any other player in the history of the game. What made him the greatest was not perfection, but a willingness to put himself on the line as a way of life. Did he suffer all those nights when he sent twenty thousand Bulls fans home heartbroken? Of course. But he was willing to look bad on the road to basketball immortality.”
And, finally, perhaps our most perfectly appropriate wisdom gem comes from Viktor Frankl who tells us: “What is to give light must endure the burning.”
Here’s to your Burning! :)