When he was a boy, that was all he wanted - to grow a pair of wings and get up into the sky. To soar towards the stars and allow himself to feel something not of this earth. He had a basement full of failed wing projects. Boards and capes and motors, even a pile of found feathers he once tried to glue together with a bottle of glue; you should have seen his grandmother’s face. But he never got any higher than the backyard fence he’d launch from. He never got inside a cloud.
There's a gentle sigh which descends like billowing silk upon the soul that accepts its coming death. It's a gentle pocket of air in the turbulence of everyday life ... the silk settles around you as if it has been drifting towards the earth forever and has finally found it's target. The flag of defeat has been mercifully dropped and, in this action, the loss is not so bad. Defeat itself is defeated by the embrace of defeat, and death is swallowed up in victory. For there is no such thing as failure. Life sometimes gives you setbacks. It reminds you to be humble, to sit and contemplate, to cope, to support and reinvent yourself based on newly accumulated experiences. It’s a continuous learning process people sometimes don’t fully understand. But, just wait. Just breathe. Let yourself be carried away. With each day you are better - you know more, you experience more - you have more and more resources in order to adjust, to act, and to win.
