I Just Want to fly.

When we lived in Houston we went to watch The Blue Angels at the Houston air Show. They were amazing! I thought to my self, I would love to be able to do that.

This was a surprising thought, as I am afraid of heights. I hate to fly....It's not do to the, take your shoes off pat down routine. I just can't get over the fact that I am in this huge aluminum can and NOTHING is holding us up in the sky,no big tree, nothing. I do envy birds. I would like to fly like they do.

When I was thirteen or fourteen years old, I had a recurring dream that I could fly. No one in my family believed me. So I took three running steps, pushed off  like a long jumper and soared into the air. I could look down on the roof of our house and the tops of the trees that lined the front walk. I could see my family, their faces upturned, watching me. They called to me not to go so high, to come down. I hovered there and watched them. Not wanting to cause them concern, I came down. When I landed , they turned away from me, and I was left standing  in the yard all alone.I thought, I should have stayed up there.

The dream was the same every time, it never changed.

Some times I wounder if that is why I love to dance so much. A fast Waltz, a Polka or Western Swing. Spinning and flying around the dance floor, moving in rhythm, feeling light and free. Dancing was the closest I ever came to feeling the way I felt in those dreams. 

Maybe it was the music. But that is a whole other story.