Teaching Myself How To Fly
A friend stopped by the other day and left me with a very poignant saying: “Se rascan las pelotas mientras la mujer trabaja.”
Translation: He scratches his balls while the woman works.
That fully informed a conversation that was had around the table at a friend’s daughter’s sweet 16 birthday party last night. And it has a lot to do with why I’ve realized how convenient a lie it is that women need to be partnered up. What man who walks into a house that is homey, that has good smells coming from the kitchen, clean clothes folded in the drawers, and flowers blooming in the garden doesn’t want to cozy on up and live there.
But I digress.
I was thinking as I started writing this post about teaching myself to fly because I feel that up until recently I’ve been a master at tying myself down, anchoring myself to stone, burying myself in other’s expectations, and seemingly afraid to fly. Yes, I’ve done my work – there is the Tai Chi, the QiGong, the meditation, the zen, the Aikido, and the walks and endless talks with myself about how to be, and how not to be. And yet, I forgot to ponder the art of flight.
We were watching a heron take flight over the bayou and Tin said to me, “Aw, I wish I could fly.” And I said, “Aw, I wish I could too.”
And why not? I dreamed last night that my bindi was left of center, that my panties were not folded just so in my drawer, that details were skewed and needed to be put in fine order. This is a clear sign that three weeks of Tin out of school, endless eating, too much champagne and wow, I’m not going to be able to fly away because I’m laden with weight.
What better time to think about being weightless than the day before 12th Night? Tomorrow, the Joan of Arc parade announces the beginning of Carnival season here in New Orleans. I have two 12th night parties to attend. Yes, you’d think I’d be throwing in the towel but no, I’m going to at least give a nod to the season and then I’m going to step back and take a much needed recovery.
Mardi Gras will be here before you know it – but I can’t keep the pace of the holidays like I used to – so I am going to fly away from here and it and all of those boulders that want to weigh me down. I’m going to study flying – in my drifting thoughts, day dreaming flights of fancy, back to work somnambulism, cracking manuscripts, Zumba moving, morning walking, Aikido falling, energy flowing and breathing exercises – this zephyr heifer needs to get up up and away.
E N G A G E.
