I put up a new reflection on Floydville. Here’s an excerpt if anyone is interested:
Despite my best efforts, nothing happened. I ran. I jumped. I even flapped
my arms. Nothing. No matter how hard I tried, I failed. After dreaming again
and again and again that I could fly, I almost convinced myself it was
possible. Sitting in church, I’d visualize myself hovering above the room,
encircling the congregation and soaring up into the sky. Then the sermon
would end, and I would realize that I was the one preaching!
A couple weeks ago while sitting in a large hall at a business conference in
Chicago, I gazed up at the ornate ceiling. The old sense of flying returned.
Ah, this looked like the perfect room to let my imagination soar. Suddenly
my mind flashed with light and I discovered this profound insight: I cannot
fly.
No matter how hard I wish, no matter how hard I flap my arms, this body is
not going to start floating. Catching my breath from this overwhelming
illumination, I wondered where does this desire to fly come from? While
there are many reasons why other people and myself dream of flying, one
reason stands out in the moment: the desire to fly can sometimes be a desire
to escape the limits of the material world.
The gift of this physical world comes with a variety of limitations. We
cannot stare at the sun. We cannot breathe underwater. We cannot walk
through walls. We cannot fly. By virtue of affirming the realness of the
world around me, I must accept the limits of this same wondrous world.
Limitations play an essential part in the game of life.
