Floating and flying through life

Sometimes we find ourselves floating and flying through life. And sometimes it’s pleasant–and sometimes not.

On Monday, when I was at school, a storm blew in–and it really blew in. We were outside with the little ones and rushing to get them in. I tried to close the big umbrella we have on the patio to provide shade, and when as I tried to crank it down, the wind caught it and blew it over. It knocked into me and blew me over, too. I kind of felt like I was flying–but it wasn’t the fun kind of flying like in a dream or windsurfing (which I’ve never tried).

Although my feet never left the ground, I felt like I flew across the cement deck, knocked like a groundball, landing on my knee and hip (much better than other parts I could have landed on). I managed to knock one child down when my arm flung out as I hit the ground. He seemed a little surprised to be hit by a flying teacher but otherwise fine. I just sat on the ground for a minute to regain my bearings. I’m on the mend, although I still have a big scrape on my knee and a few bruises. But it doesn’t seem like anything serious. Thank goodness.

As I careened across space, feeling like I was moving in slow motion, I thought that I must look pretty funny with my arms waving and my feet unsuccessfully trying to find balance. It made me wish I could soar like a bird or fly like a fish through the water.

Floating and flying–and poetry

Yesterday, as I write this, was Poetry Friday–with the optional theme of Float. Jan, over at Book Seed Studio shares a lovely poem and memory about floating with her mom in the ocean. As a child, I loved to swim. (I still do, but I don’t do it nearly as much.) And floating on my back gave me a delicious feeling that inspired this poem:

Sandwiched between water and sky

two slices of blue

with fluffy mayonnaise clouds above

reflected below.

There I float, the happy filling,

Waiting to be consumed

by

the peckish sun

the cool breeze

that ruffles the water

and nibbles

my wet toes.

Sloshing summer surrender.

Flying and floating–now

Reading Jan’s poem and writing this one returned me to my blissful childhood summer days at the local pool. We all need some respite from the crazy, scary times we’re living in now. I sometimes like to think back to the BC (before coronavirus) days. Of course, I don’t have to go back to my childhood to do that. But that’s a lovely thing about prompts–you never know where they will take you.

Last year, I wrote about the waters of life for mother day–if you feel like floating further out to sea.

I hope that you only fly when you want to–I don’t recommend flying like a baseball! And find some time to float in something that brings you bliss.

Thanks for stopping by.

xoxo