Just Plain Foolish

Just a chance for an old-fashioned, simple storyteller to say what needs to be said.

Friday, August 11, 2006


In the midst of the hubbub over whether or not one can bring bottled water with one when one flies, I'd like to salute some pretty amazing pilots. On Wednesday night, my husband and I met some friends for dinner, and ended up spending part of the evening on the grass in a nearby park, watching the bats.

If you've never watched bats on a summer evening, you've missed a show. These guys are little sonar-guided bundles of total maneuverability - they fly up, then suddenly swerve, mid air, their delicate wings slicing though the air like a hot knife through butter. One minute, they're beating their wings to gain altitude, and the next, they seem to dive straight for the earth, with one roll thrown in to catch a tasty mosquito, and then up! Their wings caress the air as they climb, and they are at home in that element, graceful and lovely in the evening.

More than a show, the flight of bats is an invitation to learn that trust in the Element that sustains us, that total confidence and love. When we feel ourselves falling, tumbling, remembering the pull of gravity, it is time to remember that the word spirit comes from the same root as respiration - breath. If we can extend our delicate wings of trust to the currents of Spirit, open ourselves to the push of that breath, we too will share in the beauty of that flight. We, too, will be intimately joined with that Element. Oh, what joy, oh, what joy.

I am feeling the gravity, constantly pulling at me. I feel the despair that is settling over the world pulling at my heart, and I, too, fear for my delicate wings. What if the winds tear them to shreds and I crash on the hard ground? What if... And yet, what are those wings for, if not to lift me up into the embrace of the Breath?


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