When I could fly…

           When I could fly, I didn’t know much about this world. I thought it was normal to fly.  When I could fly, I felt so very free and happy, and it brought joy to me. When I could fly, it felt familiar, like the way it used to be, somewhere in my memory.  When I could fly, I could see people’s hearts and feel their pain. I wanted to tell them how beautiful and loved they were. When I could fly, I was perplexed by the way people were and the things they didn’t seem to know. When I could fly, I asked my mother one day if she could fly too. She told me, “No”. She said nobody can fly. I told her I could, I really could fly, and it was the most marvelous thing in the world. So, she said, “I’m sorry my dear, but that is just a dream”. I was so very confused. She had to be wrong. To me, flying was more real than anything in this world. My heart began to ache, wondering if this person who was older and seemed to understand this world could be right. She seemed so sure she was. I cried when I went to bed, and I begged my soul to fly again, to feel the joy again. But I didn’t fly that night or ever again. Something broke in me that day, and my soul forgot how to fly in this world.

             So many people in this world are expressing frustration about not being heard, not being seen, and not being understood. So many people in this world are trying to find themselves and to know something just out of reach. So many people in this world are so very out of touch with who they are, what they need, and how to get it. So many people in this world are struggling to trust themselves, trust others, and trust the future. So many people in this world are not believing what they feel, what they see, what they know in their hearts. So many people in this world are lost, hurt and deeply discouraged. So many people in this world were told once, when they were little, that what was so very real and happy for them, was not real after all. So many people lost themselves in their childhood, full of “should’s”, and “can’t’s” and “wrong’s”. They came here able to fly, able to see fairies and angles. They could feel what was true in their heart, run unencumbered with their spirit, and they remembered their soul’s reason for being here. Until the day someone told them their truth was false.

             I don’t know why it seems so important to adults to make sure children grow up and stop believing. They are not believing, they are experiencing. I have yet to figure out why a child’s truth is so readily dismissed. Why do we assume a child’s experience in this world is irrelevant? Why do we think their pleas for help are belligerent misbehaviors? Why do we insist on setting them straight, and harming them for not understanding a place they have not been in very long? Why do we disrespect, dismiss and deny, and then wonder why we are so injured and lost when we grow up?

             I bet you could fly, once. I bet you knew a lot that was more real and true than anything you know now. I bet someone, without realizing it, told you a lie and you believed it. Maybe it was subtle. Maybe it was direct. Maybe it was even thought be a kindness. But in that moment, you forgot how amazing you really are. You lost faith in your powers. You lost trust in this world. And you felt your first heartache. Maybe you don’t even remember. But I remember, because I told myself I would never forget. I told myself that I will never tell a child that what they know for sure is wrong. I told myself I will remember what it is like to be little. To know my heart, my soul and my spirit. I promised myself I would remember how to fly again one day.