I was born with the soul of a kite. At birth my balsa wood, tissue paper, and string, were barely able to sustain altitude.
Eventually, I learned that a proper tail, rudder if you will, would help me stay balanced; would help me manage the lift that came oh so naturally.
And so I learned to fly high. At times things would be too calm for my preferences and I would grow restless, grounded, working at patience with staying in one place. Some days, the too unpredictable gusts tossed me about in a chaotic way, or sent me plummeting to the ground.
Those ground-kissing days produces their share of broken spars and tissue. I learned that patching paper and replacing damaged beams sometimes yielded a stronger, new me. The improved me flies with more confidence and grace.
After many years of practice I easily reach the end of my string regardless of wind. Although I still can crash hard if I get too self-assured.
I do think, however, I’d like to try flying without being bound to the earth. The risk seems worth achieving such untethered heights.
We’ll see if I’m ready.