Early in the morning I sat on the couch, my laptop awaiting the click-click-click of my brain and its compliant fingers. Steaming coffee. Vast silence. Cloudy skies. Heavy heart.
I looked out the window and saw six tiny birds sitting on a wire.
I thought about easy it is for them to sit there, perched and pretty, barely hanging on, not a care in the world.
I thought about how when they let go, they soar. How the wind buoys them up into the heavens.
I thought about how hard it is for me to sit still. How I feel like I’m barely hanging on. How I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders.
I thought that were I to really-completely-totally let go, I would undoubtedly crash. How the wind feels brutal and even violent. How flying and any sense of the heavens feels distant, impossible, and as certain-foolish-hope.
Then I just felt. Lots.
And then I thought that maybe that’s why those six birds sat there: waiting for me to think thoughts and then think new ones and then feel – lots and then trust and then Just.Let.Go.
Think. Feel – lots. Trust. Just.Let.Go. And believe that to soar is the only possible result.
And just then, in that moment, the birds flew away and the sun broke through the clouds. God’s honest truth.