Flying rises from a common human impulse that may be repressed by the waking
ego when we turn to workaday chores. But someone within still remembers that
primal yearning to reach for the skies. Leonardo Da Vinci agreed. He said,
"For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes
turned skyward; for there you have been, and there you long to return." The
dreamer who flies is starborn.
What is this yearning, longing
That calls from infinity?
What quasar pulses endlessly
Pitched to my inner rhythms?
The winds of space flow through me
Playing on the strings of my being.
From whence do they come?
Where do I go
To meet them?
Surrounded soundless I question
The sensual feeling of being a creature with fluttering feathers is
indescribable in words, though I have felt it in dreams. Since I've never
grown wings in waking life, how can this be? Through empathic imagination,
that's how. There's a red-talked hawks' nest visible at the top of a
eucalyptus tree in the property behind mine. Watching the hawks gliding the
invisible waves of wind is a favorite source of imagery. Wishing I were they
provides the emotional link to their form of flight. I am a secret
fledgling. I throw my desire into the boundless regions of air and, like an
arrow; it flies directly into the heart of my dreams.
If you were a bird, and lived on high,
You'd lean on the wind when the wind came by,
You'd say to the wind when it took you away:
"That's where I wanted to go today!"
Once I had a dream in which I was flying round and round in circles just
above the stalks in a cornfield. Other flyers were doing the same thing.
Flitting about like invisible sprites, we were all making crop circles - for
no other reason than, it was fun. Most flyers like flying dreams simply
because they're fun. And, some of them are.
But flying spans the entire range from agony to ecstasy, thus providing the
full range of expression for the emotional self. It can be a frightened
flight, fleeing the nightmare. It can be a peak experience, an emotional
"high," living at the pleasure of the wind. I have flown in patterns of
geometric beauty or whirling color, in the depth of darkness and in
phosphorescent light. But I can also float in the midst of nothingness where
there is no color, no light, no "I." Just existence. There can be feelings
of euphoria, bliss, satisfaction, realization, knowingness, religious awe or
love. The main purpose of flying is the sheer joy of the escape from
gravity, not the destination.
Dancing is flying high
an energy rush
body and soul
Free form, like birds
playing warm breezes
Butterflies fly, and dance
petal to petal
move over honey
Dance your dream
The famous "Ah ha!" experience is an emotional high. It comes from suddenly
seeing the bigger picture. Flying is an "Ah ha!" experience all by itself,
which means there is often no need to "interpret" it in traditional terms.
We can if we want to, but I think we might be missing the point. Flying is a
verb, not a noun, a happening, not a written language or frozen symbol. I
believe we don't get the meaning and significance of flying just by talking
about it. We fully "get" it only when we do it. We cannot catch the wind in
a net. Nor keep flight in a cage of words.
Some words are steeds with silver wings.
Some words will never fly:
They plod, poor grubby earthbound things,
And never reach the sky.
But if winged words you chance to see,
Steal up and clamber on -
And with the poem suddenly
Go soaring to the sun.
Do you know what the most popular flying myth is? Not Pegasus, that's for
sure. It's Myth of Icarus. It's told as a cautionary tale: don't reach too
high or you're bound to fall.
But you the pathways of the sky
Found first, and tasted heavenly springs,
Unfettered as the lark that sings,
And knew strange raptures, - though we sigh,
Well, yeah, I agree, it doesn't pay to be stupid. But I've always found it
curious. It's never told as the tale of Daedelus. The tale of the clever one
with the sharp mind and right attitude and emotional maturity and clear
conscience who actually got all the way to his destination. Oh, no. We're
supposed to focus on the empty glass, not the full one. Fortunately, that's
a myth from the past, and we aren't chained to the past.
Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die,
life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly.
It's a constant challenge for the flyer to overcome the Kryptonite forces of
amnesia, conformity and mundane thinking which do not permit the spirit to
soar freely. It is a trial of strength to overcome the gravity of those
But dream flying can actually strengthen the psyche. It helps keep the mind
flexible, promoting resilience and even courage. Because the flyer has
choice and flexibility, flying supports the belief in free will, rather than
fate. Flying provides opportunity for flexibility and freedom, expanded
perception and exploration of dream space. When we learn to balance of the
currents of dream, we can ride them, not fall into the deep ocean of
Let brisker youths their active nerves prepare
Fit their light silken wings and skim the buxom air
To take appropriate risks on your hero's journey requires a clear
perspective. From the heights we can hover and view virtual life as though
peering down from a glass-bottomed boat though a crystal sea to see the
sights on the ocean floor below. From the air, life is put into new patterns
and glazed over with serenity. With a wider, clearer view of situations, new
options for dealing with problems become available. Because flying is an
expansion of perception, a wide view provides us with a better sense of
overall direction and destiny. With a beautiful, magnificent view, it seems
we can see forever.
Sometimes we fly to Tucson,
Sometimes we fly with friends,
Sometimes we soar in two on,
The hope that our wings will mend.
But any way our compass turns,
North, West, up or down
I always fly alone quite best,
When others are around.
Flying can take us places. Above the geometry of the land, the symmetry of
the sea. Seeing strings of jeweled islands and undulating hills and sights
so hidden from earth view that pedestrians know them only as dim tales from
distant lands. Swiftly, I've been to sacred sites like Stonehenge in my
dreams. Or inside a space ship, warping through time travel, on my way to a
past life. Or to the far ends of the galaxy, swooping past the planets,
utterly unlost in the universe of the self. Flying allows me to travel
beyond shallow shadowland and to the depths of the void and the breadth of
The flyer breaks each second into new, uncharted territory, traveling beyond
the habitual dream world, broadening the mind. The very act of flying is
transformational magic, absorbing our restless side and leaving contentment
or awe in its stead. Through flying, we embody the spirit of being one with
something larger than ourselves.
Throw your dream into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will
So, let's blow the lid off the creative glass ceiling - to soar above the
limits of mundane, waking ego constraints to the heights of magical dream
Authors of Poetry and Prose
- Cambridge, Richard Owen. " Let brisker youths their active nerves prepare..."
- Coates, Florence Earle. "But you the pathways of the sky..."
- Hall, Dorothy. "Some words are steeds with silver wings..."
- Hughes, Langston. " Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die..."
- Magallon, Linda Lane. "What is this yearning, longing..."
- Medicine Heart, Yeshua. "Dancing is flying high..."
- Milne, A. A. "If you were a bird, and lived on high..."
- Nin, Anaďs. "Throw your dream into space like a kite..."
- Wilkerson, Richard C. "Sometimes we fly to Tucson..."