I am standing on a thin, sharp peninsula of rock, high in the air, far above everything but wind. My feet completely fill the tip of the ledge. In front and to either side there is no ground, there is only air.
Wow. How did I get here? Must be all the thinking I’ve been doing, pulled me up so high. Where is the river? Somewhere below. To look down requires leaning over. If I lean I will dive.
I am meant to dive. And so I do.
I commit myself to wind. My wings unfold, broad and certain; they hold me, level me. I cut wide, slow circles in the air. From here I can see everything in its overall.
I will watch. I will listen. I will learn. When the time comes, I will dive.