Watching sunset nestle into the trees I think about the times I’ve been given, gifted, to simply sit and look.
At school a variety of chalk dusters flew across the room, in an attempt by the history teacher to bring me back to the present. Accused mockingly of watching boys out of the window, I didn’t give a damn. I was watching the seagulls. Wanting to be out there with them. Not to be them, I didn’t want that life, I wanted to soar in their freedom.
I could not have articulated it then, but being inside seemed futile. I wanted to be out, I wanted to be sitting with a group of others and just enjoying whatever the hell was happening.
I couldn’t see the sheer joy of learning for many years. The learning I enjoyed had no rhyme nor reason.
As I’ve gotten older I enjoy learning, there is so much out there, written, spoken, sung, danced, acted. All myriads of way to learn, to grow.
But as a teenager, the only thing I wanted to be was out there.
Getting older I realized being in there, deep in there, meant I loved the out there even more.
I learned to soar in the seagull’s freedom. By feeling my feet on the ground and grabbing those moments of flight.
I am so glad that the wings grew, not planted, not artificially placed upon my back, they simply grew.