Here’s a little taster from my forthcoming book The Spirit of Flying; realitales softly spoken. If you like this blog I can almost guarantee that you’ll love reading the book.
Please if you feel so inclined, consider pre-ordering by emailing me.
The Spirit of Flying – realitales softly spoken.
Art by the lovely Anja Lüder.
In search of the Spirit of flying; a letter to you, the reader
The mists are the place where this world meets all the others. The worlds you once knew, the ones you more often than not got told did not exist, until you talked yourself out of seeing. Unless you are a bit like me and refused to let go….
You refused to let go because the mist held an allure like nothing else. A muffler of noise, it also offered a welcome break that the (often) harsh and loud ”real world” could not compare with.
The “other worlds” tempted this walker between worlds with a magic of its own, offering ever changing perspectives and views of the once familiar. A multi faceted world that shifts its focus from an every day experience to a world perceived through the Third Eye and the Heart, if you let it…
Flying fills me with a kind of longing I don’t know how to explain or satisfy. Longing for a place I have never seen this time around and do not visually remember; for beings I have not embraced in this lifetime and know not consciously who they are.
Aeons ago if you think linearly, yet a short hop of a flight if you use your heart. Somewhere out there it still reverberates like a plucked string, singing a note that resonates with something so deep within my soul I have yet to find it. It whispers through years of frustration, built up over a lifelong and at times frenetic search, so far mostly in vain. That’s when the tears come once more, hot and despondent.
I’m twisting and turning myself inside and out.
Because flying still feels unattainable,
representing that which is out of reach thus keeping it so.
That which I believe I can never have.
Unless I figure out why I want it so and
what it truly represents to me.
The spirit of flying I need to define
in a way that at least I can grasp.
I have gone through the dictionary and the thesaurus too
the combination lock of this equation
stays firmly locked in place.
Then I’m dreaming…
I’m on my way!
Unlimited freedom of movement
me and my flying machine
together as one
Everything is in it’s place as it should be
trimmed and primed
I’m weightless and focused
here and there, all at once
spinning the thread that connects the two…