take my hand and climb with me…

fifty nine degrees: ‘teach me to fly…’

Maybe I’m A Beggar ~ Supertramp

fifty nine

Another day, another blessing. The natural world, so rich. Searching for Mowgli, Max  discovers a nest. Abandoned to the long grass. Perhaps blown off in one of these wild winds. I suspect, it being late spring, fledgling wings have found freedom in flight. A lovely home, woven together with natural fibre. Instinctual love. All little blood drums, beating the holographic command of the one Great Heart. Love. Love. Love. Joyous syncopated beat, of life.

The rest of the walk is littered with treasure: owl’s furry pellet; abundant feather array; dried snake, coiled Ouroboros. Only, no Mowgli. Sleeping, cool in the generous shade of a tree. I hope. Home, wise friend shares sage words, gift-quote of Pema Chodron:

To be fully alive, fully human, and completely awake is to be continually thrown out of the nest. To live fully is to be always in no-man’s-land, to experience each moment as completely new and fresh. To live is to be willing to die over and over again.


Acknowledge your wings, pinions grown painfully. Allow muscly feathers to shimmer and strengthen. Cherish this change, the courage it took. To keep on. Through discomfort, loss. Labour pain of birthing, yourself. Drop old hurts and fear. Let it float like leaf, and away. Now, commit to the abyss. Die forever to your small self. Falling endlessly, in flight. And for perhaps the first time: soar!

Give me the sky…

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This entry was posted on November 28, 2012 by in Spring and tagged , , , , , , , .


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