On being a kite

Beach 011

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.


One thought on “On being a kite

  1. Yeah, I think flying runs in your family’s blood. Your dad loved to fly. He had a few hard landings, too, but you are like him and when your landings have been hard you have simply made yourself into a “newer, stronger you” as you put it. I think all our hearts yearn to soar, and when we dream we have no ties to the ground.

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