It's ironic how, so often, we want something we are not ready for. But I guess that's just part of life. Like a bird falling from its nest believing it could fly. Yet, for a fraction of time during its fall, for just a moment, the innocent, naïve thrill is still there. The bird, for a split second, perceives flight. But, rebounding, realization occurs, Although the wind still blows, and their wings stay spread, they no longer fly; they fall. The paradox of falling is that it makes the flight even more glorious. I wonder what the bird think after it has landed. Does it regret taking the jump? This is the answer; the beauty of it all: To know, we must jump for ourselves.
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