flying

i need to fly today...




today of all days I feel feather sandals are tied to my ankles

... and warm air breezes into my summerdress, 

behind my knee...

between my fingers... 

over my eyelashes.........

through my hair...

i wear a summerdress in my fantasy & am barefoot and the weather is sweet & warm like the steam that comes out of a just-cut-in-half brioche...




why fly ?

Douglas Adams. He gives me my answer in (of course) the Hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy (or as most of us would agree; "always know where your towel is"), through his stance on the ability to fly. 

In his words:

"The knack of flying lies in learning how to throw yourself to the ground and miss. 
Pick a nice day, and try it!
The first part is easy. All it requires is simply the ability to throw yourself forward with all your weight, and the willingness not to mind that it's going to hurt if you fail to miss the ground. 
Most people fail to miss the ground, and if they are really trying properly, the likelihood is that they will fail to miss it fairly hard."


what I get out of it, is that flying is what happens when you miss the ground!


the ground can be anything... the norm, the regular, the plain, the compromising, the so-below-your-abilities-and-expectations-of-yourself...




so i decide to fly...

I like to think this is not a decision, but a situation! 

something myself has set out for me and "failing to miss the ground" is not an option. shouldn't and needn't so definately must get rid of anything that might weight me down. 

so I'll smell the loveliest flowers i can find today, 

on this cold winter day, 

and feel some warm breeze 

around myself, 

through my heart, 

and under my wings! 

and yes, of course have some tea while at it...

and only learn from the best...

beloved miss poppins..... who to show us best the art of never hitting ground & always keeping a true smile !

and remember the poem i've carried with me since i was 14...

Apollo stood on the high cliff 

'Come to the edge...' he said 

'It's too high...' they said 

'Come to the edge...' he said 

'We'll fall...' they said 

'Come to the edge...' he said 

And they did... 

And he pushed them... 

And they flew."

Christopher Logue - 1961