All of us hide in ourselves. We hide in makeup or no makeup or in too many or too little clothes. We hide behind smiles, behind boasts, behind silence; we are all hiding.
Watery warm autumn sunlight kisses my cheek and jaw line. The Wind Woman plays lightly with my hair. She is whispering in my ear, her cool bare breath against my face, tickling me into a smile.
People are flying and I want to fly too. I came out here to watch, to be inspired, to talk to the Wind Woman, the Lady of Wild Hair and Random Tangents. Lately I am afraid of things I want and I wonder why. Is it a mortality fear? Fear of aging, am I overly sensitive to the fragility of my human body? I had pondered this two days ago too. I thought about the fear when I launched and flew but then completely forgot about it as I excitedly landed EXACTLY where I wanted.
‘AH HA!! TADDDAAAA!!!’ I shouted to myself, this included an imaginary high five to self too. Out loud I only quietly giggled to myself, mildly drunk on my happiness. I launched again, caught up in the surging glory of success. I continued to forget about fear as I flew back and forth awhile –until I unexpectedly bumped into it again on landing.
When I notice something about myself I notice it in others. Or imagine it in others. Either and/ or. Most of the time I think no one notices I am watching them; trying to understand how we are all so alike and yet so separated. Occasionally, I think my ‘observing’s’ are noticed by some and that some become suspicious and think me suspect of something. When I notice them noticing, I wish I could ask, “I see this in me, I think I see it in you. What conclusions have you arrived to?”
But people are hiding and dislike nothing more than being found out.
Back to today. The air is calmer than yesterday, rich in dense cool air, rising up like lazy champagne bubbles… My Wind Woman sighs her question softly ‘Would you like a glass?’
Yes, yes I would. Despite falling over the dog, then the cat and then my shoes and dropped coat; somehow I make it out to the park with my head attached. Carefully, systematically, I pull and lay out my wing and my things. I call my dearest to tell him where I am. I strap in, flight check twice and pull up.
It was perfect -until my glove caught in the brake handle, came off and I flopped the wing over trying to catch it, making myself laugh. Redo was effortless, launch was clean, and up up up I went. I made a very low bench, the kind that had me grinning all the way, wondering if I would land on the trail.
On the back ridge, looking at the romantic lonely Timpanogos and her snowy ridge outline, studying the fairy land that must be Lone Peak, I decided: Sometimes, maybe we are afraid of what we want most because it is what we want most. Nothing is as disappointing as hope unrealized; so the more we want and hope for something, the more we are guarded against it.
I told my Wind Woman my conclusion. In answer she shook out my fear like dust from an over trodden door way rug and told me ‘Just fly.
