I was struck by two distinct thoughts, how sad and how brave. How brave that he is comfortable being out there alone, his desire to enjoy a day off is enough that he is enough company for his adventures. How sad that he is alone, that his parents did not join him, that he had no friends or siblings willing to brave the forces of nature to explore life's adventure.
As I watched him throw a paper airplane over and over I felt another post grow in my mind.
He is young enough that the shorter and more unpredictable the plane's flight was, the harder he tried to throw it the next time, not understanding that the harder you throw a paper plane the more erratic it's flight becomes; the best launch of paper is a gentle toss into the breeze. In the few minutes I observed the red-clad warrior his plane flew into the trees reaching fingers twice, and twice he had to jump to catch bits of twig tugging until his aeronautic friend was released. Yet he did not stray from his chosen spot to one free of grasping twiggy fingers, he stood his ground and journeyed on.
How often do we approach life in the same way? We struggle and fight and persevere, convinced that if we just fight hard enough and stand in the place we have chosen that "things" will take off. The harder the battle, the harder the toss. Why don't we know already that it will just result in a more erratic course? Might not life's struggles be the same as that bit of paper? Maybe if we simply re-adjust the wings and ballast a bit, and move away from those things that grasp and cling and pull us down, our flight will be true.
My goal this month is now to watch for the branches hanging in my path and to lift my own small wings into the wind and let them soar; no thrusting, no shoving, no strong arm tactics.
Just breathe and be.
Farewell Dave, I will miss you.
