Take Flight [on KS Friday]

take flight songbox copy

Who hasn’t in their dreams taken flight? It’s possible in the morning not to remember but that does not negate the experience of flying.

Who hasn’t dreamed of becoming? A dancer, a pilot, an explorer. It’s possible when standing at the threshold of a dream to fill up with doubt but that does not halt the becoming. It is part of it.

I remember my first flight. It was a miracle of new perspective. From up there rivers and mountain ranges can be seen as what they are. Circulation. Movement. Earth’s inhale and exhale. I felt intensely alive. It is possible, after many many flights, to dull and forget, but that does not negate the miracle.

We are among the first humans in a long, long history of human beings to see our planet from the air. From space. From outer space. From above. It is possible to lose this new perspective among the daily detritus . It is possible with so much noise here on the ground to forget.

This amazing composition will help you remember.

 

TAKE FLIGHT on the album THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY is available on iTunes & CDBaby

 

read Kerri’s blog post about TAKE FLIGHT

 

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take flight/this part of the journey ©️ 2000 kerri sherwood

Look Up!

821. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

Once, many years ago, Patti and I circled a restaurant for several minutes looking for the door in. We literally walked the entire circumference of the building without finding the door. On our second lap around the building, right in front of us, as if it appeared from nowhere, was a very large medieval-style wooden door complete with iron handles and hinges. It was a door that was very hard to miss. We laughed when we saw it.

This past week was a hailstorm of revelations for me. I had more ah-ha moments last week than I have had in the last decade. I remembered not being able to see that large hard-to-miss-door this week as I saw for the first time a metaphoric door that was equally hard to miss but somehow it’s taken me a lifetime to see. It seems that all of my life I’ve been seeking the door to wholeness. I’ve been hunting for the portal to full expression. I imagined that to find the door I had to release a fear. I assumed that I had to invite the dragon lurking behind the door to tea and make peace with my past. I assumed that I’d find the door in a dark place so I’ve been looking down. I’ve peered into every well. I’ve walked into every cave. I’ve turned over every rock. This week, I gave up the search and looked up.

In looking up I saw the door.

The door that I sought was not in the dark but in the light. It turns out that the portal to flight is in the sky, not on the ground. It is not a monster that I needed to confront. It was a recognition I needed to have. Re-cognition. Like all people, I was born knowing how to fly. Like most people, flying got me into a lot of trouble early on so I convinced myself that ground walking was a better and safer path. No wonder I was confused! I’d done such a good job of keeping my eyes on the ground that I forgot where the soaring happens. I done such a good job of erasing my memory of flying that I sought what I already possessed.

I laughed when I saw it, just as I laughed that day with Patti as we circled a building looking for a door that was impossible to miss. This door, too, has been there all along. I closed it a long time ago. I looked away from it. I tried hard to forget it. And then, when the shadow of flight refused to leave me, I began searching. And searching. And searching. I’m so grateful that I got tired, gave up and sat down. Suspending the search, looking to the sky in frustration, imagine my surprise to find a door and an invitation to fly through it.

Learn To Fly

724. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

“I have a song in my heart and I’m not flying!” He was waving his arms up and down like a bird like all of the other children, his eyebrows knit, with a pout on his face. The other children were flying. Their eyes were closed, faces to the sky, arms riding the imaginary thermals. By the look on their faces they were flying high above the trees and soaring to the clouds.

We were having a storytelling. In our story a little girl (she’s a princess but doesn’t know it) must move from the country to the city with the kind old man and old woman she believes to be her parents. She is terribly sad because in the country she spends her days singing with the birds. In the city, she no longer sings. In the city she pines for the birds. She sits in her bedroom looking out of the window. Concerned for her, the old man and woman buy the girl a yellow bird.

The girl soon realizes that, just like her, the yellow bird never sings. She asks the bird, “Why don’t you sing?” and to her surprise, the bird answers her, “I’m not supposed to be in a cage. Why don’t you sing?” Together the little girl and the bird help each other learn to sing again. The bird finds her song when the little girl sets her free. The girl finds her song when the bird teaches her to fly with a song in her heart.

All the children in the classroom, save one, were flying like the little girl and the bird. “I have a song in my heart,” he insisted, “and I’m not flying!”

“Close your eyes!” someone suggested. “Then you’ll hear your song better. Then you’ll be flying!”

He closed his eyes, arms flapping, and a smile replaced his pout. “I can fly!” he exclaimed and swooped above the treetops and soared into the clouds. A little girl soared over to where I was sitting, perched and whispered to me, “Flying is easy with a song in your heart.”

Yes. Yes, it is.

Do The Dishes

649. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

I’m at 37,000 feet. The coffee has been served. The trash has been picked up. The man sitting next to me is asleep, as are the people across the aisle. I see the flicker of movies or games on ipads; a baby somewhere behind me is fussy. We are in an aluminum tube hurtling through space at several hundred miles an hour and I am typing. And, as I look around me, I’d say that most of my plane-mates believe that flying through space is usual, mundane.

A hundred years ago very few people had seen the earth from the sky. A few people in balloons made it into the clouds. Now, hundreds of thousands of us soar through the sky everyday. I was reminded in the Cosmosphere in Hutchinson, Kansas that it has only been 45 years since a human being saw the earth from space. We have been on this planet for thousands of years and the miracle of the earth was something we imagined but had never seen. I am in the first generation of humans to see a photograph of the earth from space. I remember seeing it for the first time and I gasped. Now, we think it commonplace. Sure, from space there are no boundaries, sure it looks alive (it is), but I imagine most of my globe-mates think it is usual, mundane.

It is the center of every spiritual practice, it is the task of the artist: what does it take to truly SEE. How do we develop our capacity to see what is right in front of us instead of seeing what we think is there? To think is to interpret. To think is to abstract; it is a veil that can blunt the immensity of experience. How do we become present to the enormity of being alive and cease to reduce our lives to the mundane?

Travel to another country and you will see. Fall in love and you will see. Climb to the top of a mountain and you will see. Stand in the river with the water rushing around your ankles and you will see. You will see because you want to see; you will enter your moment having decided to be there and nowhere else. You will see because you let go of the fog of knowing and allow yourself to not know. You will see because you have re-entered discovery. Do the dishes for the thousandth time. Do nothing else but simply feel the water on your wrists, smell the soap, the muscles in your hand as you hold the sponge. Feel your heart beating and you will recognize that you have never lived this moment, you’ve never breathed this breath, you’ve never done these dishes and you will come alive quite suddenly and see the miracle of your life.