Lend me your wings, bird.

This photo is not my own

For most of my “adult” life I have had an immense fascination with birds. I notice them on the telephone wire, in the trees, in the sky… and I envy them.

I envy their universal identity; how they can be and not be everything at once. They are life, and they are death. They are wise, and they are mischievous. They are ever present, yet hard to tie down. They are beautiful. They are fragile. They are free.

But of all of these things, I envy most their ability to spread their wings and go wherever they want, whenever they want.

All I’ve ever had, and all I’ve ever known, is ambition. My whole life has been made up with goals, wishes and dreams. As a little girl I had an insatiable need to learn. I couldn’t wait to grow up. I couldn’t wait to get past the barriers of my age. I was going to be somebody. I was going to accomplish things. I was going to go places.

The beauty and tragedy of childhood, is that you are so blind to how fast plans can change.

When I was twelve I lost my father, my career ambitions, and my ability to leave my small town. I completely lost interest in learning. My mom had to get a new job, and found one at the local university so when I finished high school I had a tuition waver with my name on it.  A blessing, and a curse, for now I was prevented from embarking on my adventure by practicality. Everything I had planned; the places, the people, the schools, the entire life I imagined for myself- was torn asunder by reality. 

It seems that ever since I’ve been searching for an escape. It seems, that I’ve been put into a cage.

I’ve been making new plans, new dreams, and I’ve found new ways to accomplish them. I’ve got my heart set on a new course. And the countdown is on to the moment of truth- when the I finally feel the breeze lifting me off on my journey. But no matter how much time passes, I continue battling with the sense of doubt that anything will ever go according to plan again. The fear that my ambition has been setting me up to fail since day one.

My Tattoo

Sometimes, I feel like if I were a bird- things would be different.

But that would leave one thing that I have left to encounter. 
One fact I have yet to face:

More often than not, birds stay.

What if the knowledge that they can leave at anytime, is enough?

Would it be enough for me?