Finding Wings...

Well, I guess it’s been quite some time since I have ventured back on to here to expel my thoughts upon unwary visitors, but I have decided that it has been long enough and I should attempt to post at least a few more thoughts before I go off to try my hand at my new career and while I have the opportunity to still have my feet upon “terra firma”. 

What has spurred me into this, my latest mind-burp in a series of many, is that I recently received my 90-day notification email, informing me that I now have less than 90 days until I leave for basic training.  Consequently, the message came on the same day as my 32^nd birthday.  As I read through the letter and considered my past 32 years, I began to think about all of the steps in wrong directions that I had taken throughout my life.  So many of these steps have resulted in a feeling that almost assuredly will feel equivalent to the sensation I’ll soon have when I step from a fully operational aircraft.  Likewise, I’m certain that it is the falling, tumbling sense felt by wood ducklings when they leap from the cavity of an oak tree shortly after hatching.  

These simple, minute, awkward steps have the capability to send these young, flightless ducklings into a tumultuous journey from a high perch to an unknown landing below.  The fall may culminate in nothing more than a tumble into a relatively soft landing in the leaf litter below, resulting in nothing more than perhaps an increased heart rate, or it may result in a rapid, unforgiving fate.  Similarly, we may ourselves be sent headlong into an unknown fate when we misplace our own steps.  The resulting venture may simply take us through a foggy shadow in our minds, or drive us deep into the most dismal depths of our own self-being.  We may land softly from a fall and carry on, unscathed, or fall to depths unseen and have to reach to the extent of our will to push ourselves back to a functional jumping point so that we may make a leap to yet another uncertain fate.

As I spun these thoughts through my mind, with the mountain of missteps growing steadily, I began to feel my accomplishments being heavily outweighed by my failures.  My few bright and shining moments were slowly being overshadowed by my shortcomings, and I began to feel as though I had spent 32 years taking up space and air that could easily have gone to someone better and more accomplished than myself.  I began to question myself, and whether I was worthy of wearing the uniform that I will soon don.  I stared at the Ranger and Airborne Creeds that I have hanging on my wall as my inspiration, and challenged my own self-dedication yet again.

Just as I was about to turn away and erupt into another mental fit, I noticed the silver Airborne emblem that I now recognize so well and aspire to someday wear on my own uniform.  The silver wings that represent a history much longer and more prestigious than my own had a calming effect upon me, and made me reconsider my negative thoughts.  I began to contemplate the wings, and actually laughed aloud when I was struck by the concept that made me realize what my missteps had actually amounted to.  The wings represented in the Airborne emblem are those of an eagle; majestic, soaring, taking flight with the greatest of ease.  I have chosen to liken myself much more to the wood ducklings…clumsy, awkward, flopping from their perch, uncertain of what lies beneath them (hence the earlier duck analogy).  

The times when we fall may make us feel as though we can barely walk…let alone fly. But, regardless of whether we are as clumsy as the wood ducklings or as graceful as the eagles, the result shall forever be the same.  However we learn to fly, we only need to learn once to find our wings.  If you’re reading this, thanks for checking it out, and may your flights always be fair.  Blue skies…

-M