waiting for the wind

Alis volat propriis

I’m so ready. I’ve never done anything this planned out before, though. The planning thing makes me nervous. I like to jump before I think my way into fear’s talons. I actually really loath this whole planning thing. I think there must be a fine line between allowing nature to do it’s thing and allowing myself to intervene with that process. But I suppose some things are not natural enough not to be coerced in certain ways.

But this whole thing is just┬átreacherousness. It’s hard to be on the edge and not just jump…or accidentally fall. All I can do in my position with any sort of intention is throw stones and watch them fall, and wonder if that’s how I’ll fall. Hoping this will preoccupy me for long enough because I can’t back away. We are jumping, just not yet. Waiting for the wind to be right.

HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
-W.B Yeats