Soaring, Saying Yes, and Leaning Into Your Knowing
On soaring
“But I’m *not* waiting,” explained sparrow, looking out over the edge of her nest.
“What are you doing then,” asked hawk, a little perplexed.
“I’m getting myself ready,” replied bird, “to fly even higher the next time we leap.”
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📷: Pivot II
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“Can we do that?”
“Do what?” a man’s voice asked.
“THAT!”
I looked up right as the little boy was pointing at me.
He was wearing neon green rain boots and had big, bright eyes to match.
“Not today,” said the man.
I was just finishing a ride, and covered from head to toe in mud.
“But why not?” the boy asked.
I had mud in my teeth. In my ears. In my eyes.
“Because.” was his dad’s only response, the “I said so” implicit.
My black Trek Fuel EX 9.9 XTR was mud brown, a little ivy was wound up near the fork.
“But that’s what I want to do,” the boy went on, courageously, yet head already down.
“Maybe some other time.” said the dad, his tone a sign that the conversation was over.
I smiled a big, warm (and muddy) smile at the kid, shrugging my shoulders in a “you tried your best” sort of way.
Did I detect a little foot dragging as he fell behind his dad by a pace?
As I was taking my shoes off, the question kept looping in my mind, “Can I do that?”
How many times in your life have you clearly known exactly what you wanted?
Known *and* asked for it?
That boy knew exactly what he wanted.
I could see it in his eyes.
I could see it in his whole body.
He was excited and nervous and ready.
How many times have you let another’s no keep you from what you know you want?
My hope is that that kid will keep pointing toward what he wants, will keep asking for it, bravely.
And if he gets a “no” this time around or the next, he’ll wait – preparing for the time when he can soar.
Because sometimes we just have to leap as we trust our knowing.
Where can you lean into your knowing a little bit more today?