if i’m not always open to the idea of becoming more than i currently am, am i truly living? or is that what we deem “coasting along” and sadly settle into in our routine moments of daily gray, when life becomes simply a second-hand twitch and we wonder when we lost the childlike belief in adventures that would pulse like heat from our worn-down running shoes?

i want to get that back. i want to remember what it feels like to learn to fly again; to tie towels and curtains around my neck and enter the weightless realm of “imagine ifs.” to tear across an open field without a cloud in my mind, absolutely certain that nobody could catch me if they tried. to be unafraid of falling.

what do we lose, as we give in and grow up? what selves do we shed year by year, melting and freezing with the seasons, becoming a little less sure of our handholds in the sky and a little more weighted by snow collecting on our shoulders? i have fears now i didn’t know then, lost in the labyrinth of hypotheticals and pondering loss in my quiet moments. perhaps this is why i tend to shy away from those moments of solitude as of late…i’m afraid of what i might discover lurking in Her pockets, waiting to prick my tender fingertips with truths i’m unprepared to own.

my dad will be 60 tomorrow and i’ll be half that age in 2 years, and “older” now has taken on an entirely different connotation and visual representation. i’m afraid of not needing my parents; this is about as honest as i get, for walls of sober moonlight are impenetrable by day. to live is to grow is to learn is to become is to let go is to find yourself and recognize your life as your own, stripped and stark in the darkness of self-discovery, when light can shine the brightest and the Path just might take an unexpected turn, for better or for worse.

i am afraid i’m speaking in circles, but then again, perhaps this is my destiny…i chose this years ago, when “growing up” meant something other people did and wrote about for me to experience through picture books and fairytales…

(breathe, and now…i remember afternoons spent outside in the backyard, swingset-strewn and summer-strung, eyes closed as i twirled and twirled, fasterandfasterandfaster, knowing my brother was somewhere on the same lawn in the same motion, a blur i couldn’t think to focus upon…not while i gave myself up entirely to the dizzydrunk pull of the clouds and the assurance that we’d all fall into the sky some day…

and when i hit the ground, i knew i’d found a little magic for a topspun moment, and made time stand still until i couldn’t hold out any longer. but it never mattered, then — at that time, falling was always such a sweet release.)