Monday, January 20, 2014
more scenes from a recent walk to the lands of deserted cottages and along the ice packed crescent beach
I have come to accept the feeling of not knowing where I am going. And I have trained myself to love it. Because it is only when we are suspended in mid-air with no landing in sight, that we force our wings to unravel and alas begin our flight. And as we fly, we still may not know where we are going to. But the miracle is in the unfolding of the wings. You may not know where you're going, but you know that so long as you spread your wings, the winds will carry you.
C. Joybell C.
a prayer of sorts, a mantra for sure - I'm trying with all my might to live more faithfully & way more fearlessly