So, to begin with, I'll just say this: bronchitis is NOT for the faint of heart. That is all.
I don't know if it's the massive doses of antibiotics and mucinex, or just my own nature, but I'm feeling especially poetical this evening (Danger, Will Robinson, danger! This often means I will be making up a few words of my own peculiar sort at some point in the body of this post). I've decided I'm going to talk for a few moments about wind. But only a few moments -- I'm taking time out of my Gilmore Girls marathon in order to type this up. I know. I'll be happy to take your applause and adulations in comment form at the bottom. They will certainly be deserved.
I've always been a big fan of the wind. Samantha Carter, I'm sure, could give me a big explanation of what wind is and how it's created and how much good/bad it does and what role it plays in the delicate balance of nature that Roland Emmerich exploited in "The Day After Tomorrow." Its sequel, I'm sure, will be titled "Next Week Sometime Around Brunch" and will be about how humans, in their stupidity, have been using the wind for their own selfish reasons for far too long, and this much-abused wind, having gained self-awareness through the mistakes of some nefariously well-meaning, albeit misguided, scientist, will rise up and cast down everything from the Sears Tower to Grandma Jenny's windmill in retribution. Mankind, thus humbled, will start searching for other alternatives for power and will allow the wind to return to its previous unfettered existence.
Aside from liking wind for its possible revolutionary tendencies, I've always found it to be a bit magical. If there is a way that God daily talks to me, it is through the wind. And think about it -- why do people want to fly so badly? There is the whole freedom idea, yes. But you can attain that just as easily with a red convertible and an open road.
Oh, wait.
That red convertible? Yeah, remind me what it does? IT LETS THE WIND IN. IT LETS THE WIND CARESS YOUR HAIR. (Bringing to mind the notion that when the nefarious scientist makes the wind sentient, he should probably include a booklet on socially acceptable behavior for the perv.)
Wow. I started out with every intention of being poetical. How do I get back to that? Oh, yes. Ahem.
So, Mom and I went out to see the bison babies at our local preserve. We've named the newest one Katie, which brings me an absurd amount of happiness. I don't know if y'all have been anywhere near anything resembling a device that brings you world news (which, in this day and age, it is increasingly unlikely that you haven't), but the South has been experiencing some major storms over the past month. We've had tornadoes, floods, monsoons, lightning, a locust protest meeting, thunder....all that great stuff. So when Mom and I went out to see the bison, there was also this incredible wind kicking up. I mean it; it almost sent me and Mom flying.
And as I stood there in the wind enjoying it, as I always do, I started thinking about how close I felt to flying. I often have dreams of flying; they usually involve me swimming through the air with a breast stroke, for some reason. For a brief moment, I seriously considered just leaning into the wind a little bit more to see if I could actually do it. Maybe the dream wasn't a dream -- maybe it was giving me instructions. In that moment, the laws of physics ceased to exist for me. There was a possibility of a life without limitations, without logic or reasons or gravity or "I can't." I could just fly, just by bouncing onto my toes just a little bit.....
A phrase came to my mind then, something I'm sure will at some point get turned into a full-length poem. I scribbled it down in my notebook so I wouldn't forget it. It was, "People don't jump off buildings because they want to die. They do it because they want to fly." Isn't it possible that the despair that some people (including myself at times) have felt is really a yearning to experience something that is outside of all the rules and the laws and the you-can'ts? And maybe the wind is how I am able to grasp that?
I have to believe that this yearning for wind is more than it appears to be. The wind, this scientific process that so many have so easily put in a box and defined and labeled, is God. He is touching me. He is reaching out to people and making them see that there is more to this world than what can ever be explained. It is that that I am so eagerly trying to seek out and learn -- the unlearnable, the undefinable and therefore, the unattainable. It is a fruitless yearning and I will fail, just as I would fail to catch the wind. But you know what? The dream of flying is more fun than sour gummy worms and Roland Emmerich films. So I guess I'll keep going.
