Winging It

Some people have an uncanny sense of direction. They trust their inner homing pigeon to guide them, no matter what new neighborhood, city, or life event they find themselves in.

Others wander through a maze, knowing there is a fat slice of Gouda somewhere; they can smell it, almost feel it melting in their hungry mouths. But is it worth the risk, the effort? All those dead-ends! The twists and turns! They might get tired…or lost…or find they had a taste for Swiss all along.

I wonder if the rock-solid blockades we maze-wanderers imagine are really cardboard partitions we’ve errected ourselves? Can we close our eyes, dismiss the fear, and fly?

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6 thoughts on “Winging It

  1. Cara says:

    You always seem to get it right.

  2. erin reilly says:

    🙂 very nice analogies.

  3. KM Huber says:

    Oh, Deb, right on! I do believe they are but partitions of our own making and therefore, to fly is only to leave fear forever. Beautifully written, so cogent.


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