Flapping and Leaping

I will ascend. I will go up. I will lift off. Soon. I'm rushing about flapping and leaping. It is a precise art that needs to be refined. It is the art of letting go of the earth. It is the art of up, up and away. I find myself, as the moment casually strolls in, practising breathing out. I sigh often. I breath out big belly fulls of breath, in silent sighs rising from my toes. It took me a while to realise that it was all about letting go, but when I got it, it made so much sense. Soon I will be suspended in space, transported through time and place. I have to let go to be able to go at all. I like the earth. I like her under my feet. When I hold my breath, feigning control, I grow rigid and then weary. I have to learn to be a flute. Air comes in, music comes out. I will be an empty channel that gentle embraces and softly caresses a flow of life passing through me. It is all I have ever been. If only it could be sweet music that I always made! Instead, as I leap and flap and jump and land - I find myself heaving and huffing, grunting and guffawing. I stop and steady myself. I breathe in and then, smiling, simply breathe out. Like so many things in my little life, it doesn't have to be hard! I stay soft and prepare to transcend the surface of my little life. Ready, steady, go!