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I'm just getting back from a day spent in Santa Monica and Venice. It was nice to wander around with no plan, no direction.
On yesterdays blog, I posted a piece titled "Me and My Birdie." I know it's gramatically incorrect, but it's just words. I wanted to see what this piece would bring to mind; it brings about a true story from when I was living in San Fransico some 15 years ago.
A stranger came up to me at a bar and, for reasons I don't remember, we get on the subject of birds. I think it may have come up from having been reading Jonathan Lvingston Seagull by Richard Bach. The man at the bar says, "Imagine peopel being like birds. Very few birds ever reach the most magnificent of cliffs overlooking the oceans." He continues, "You are one of these lucky birds. And only of few of these birds will actually take off from the cliffs and soar." Again he says, "You are one of these lucky birds."
He paused long enough and looked at me and aksed, "Why do you come back?" He didn't have to say anymore, I understood what he meant. Throughout my life I have taken my share of risks, but no matter what risks I have taken, I haven't followed fully through. I keep coming back to a safe place. Is it fear? Is it doubt? I don't know.
And so today, I ask myself, "What do I need to risk? What am I willing to do? What am I willing to surrender? For the next couple of days, I will take this with me and think about it. For now, there is no answer and I'm okay with NOT having an answer.
But I know that it's time to fly, soon, very soon!
The piece here is titled "Her Birdie." It came to me easily and without much effort.
