this morning was windy. it is still that time of year here were the dark lingers into hours when you’d expect light - it is a prolonged sort of night. it is still that time of year here where the wind makes the mornings colder than it should be. it bites at your skin, finding the chinks in your layered armor.
out running this morning was a challenge. not only for the head wind but because i felt strangely off balance. i found myself thinking of how much i want to be centered, to find a center, but balance is always hidden from me. i feel like i might have just been designed asymmetrically and this hunger for balance is going against my own wiring. how do we fight such desiring?
this is the shape i’m in. this is my shape - i’m always running a bit off step and out of rhythm. but that is rhythmic to me. can i call that a melody? and what happens if i can’t seem to make a symphony of the harmonies i’m trying to add in?
struggling over this, i decided to take off my hood. my ears complained of the temperature’s sting, but i just needed to think straight. i needed to feel the wind’s message on my neck. i had been trying to ignore the wind today, but it wouldn’t let me alone. with my heart closed, it whispered into my bones, snaked down into the marrow instead. it spoke to me of all the unknowns i dread.
i tried to avoid the wind today, but it found me on every path...imagine that, wind in every direction. wind pushing with firm hands on my back, a gentle but uncompromising nudge both backwards and forwards. usually i try to see a push as a sign that i’m going with or going against the “plan”. but an unwavering push against the wind? wind in every direction? how do i make the required correction?
have you listened to the wind today? careful if you do, because it might just take you all the way through all those doors you’ve been leaving shut. it might just force you to breathe. it was then i realized i have been holding my breath, anxious about fresh air.
because i’m not sure my lungs are ready for that strong dose of cold oxygen. i don’t feel quite up to the challenge of being blown out, so maybe the wind is trying to blow me over, to force out the stale air.
i then felt i had fallen asleep somewhere without knowing. i felt i had grown too fond of slumber, too attached to a quiet, windless atmosphere. that vacuum where i can just avoid the promptings of fear. my universe is sometimes so loud that i can’t hear what the wind has to say about this.
while trying to listen to the wind’s message on my neck, my eyes flitted to the birds overhead. they don’t flee from the wind but they don’t fight it either. they use it to their advantage. the delight in the gusts, letting it give lift to their wings, some of which seem to be patchy, missing some feathers. they rise up, gain a new perspective on things, and then return to pushing forward. they don’t seem harried. they don’t seem hurried. and they certainly don’t seem afraid. in fact, if anything, they seem to me remade by this wind, excited and drawn into the challenge, but never giving up the fight, never giving into fright of what might prove their undoing.
i like to be such a bird, a winged thing.
(i am not sure what i’m trying to say here, but thanks for listening).