Thursday, June 6, 2013

Dreams of Flying

 

The days crumble against each other and melt away like sand behind bare feet. I'm coming up on my fourth summer in Japan, and it feels like the pace of time is only accelerating. Is this what it's like to be in the grown up world, the working world? A blink and a day is gone. It's terrifying. But days like this one, spent in the warm sunlight, out among the grasses and trees... they contain a bit of eternity within a few sweet hours.

 

Flying through the days so quickly, sometimes I need to remind myself to slow things down. To take some time for myself, aside from work and photoshoots. To get back in touch with who I am deep down, and with nature. This kind of peace and silence is so necessary when living in a fast-paced city like Tokyo. It just takes maybe an hour by train, and you can arrive somewhere with a totally different atmosphere.

 

 Something surprising and beautiful could be waiting around the next corner. You never know.


 

Coming to these kind of sparsely populated, grassy, tree-covered places always reminds me of California. Of course it's not the same - the wide ocean, the golden hills, the highway - but something in the air reminds me. Makes me breath in deeply, my heartbeat slow in a calm sort of joy.

 

I love being outside, in such a quiet place. I wish I could be every day.

 

 Close your eyes, and you can hear birds chirping, wind ruffling the light green leaves overhead, the slither of a lizard... you are alive. It's good to be alive, within all of this life.


 

 I am so excited to feel the sun on my bare arms, warming me up even through a thin shirt. Slowly, we can do without heavy coats and jackets again. It all feels light and free. I want to rush madly through the bamboo trees and jump for joy.

 

 And sometimes I am simply still, stopped by the wonder that is nature. The filtering of sunbeams, the hypnotic waving of tree branches... everything envelops me and energizes my soul.

 

When I was little, I had many dreams of flying. Soaring right through windows and out into the air, going up and up. I didn't have wings. There simply existed within me the power to raise myself into the air and move about as I pleased. Sometimes I was flying to escape from enemies or a scary situation. Other times, I was simply enjoying the act of flight. It seemed so natural, a part of me, that I felt a bit disappointed when I woke up.


 

Now, I feel like I'm flying through my days in reality. Looking down, looking back at the traces of my time through captured photos, little mementos, snippets of writing, memories and laughter shared. I kind of don't want to fly this fast, at least not all the time. I want to slow the acceleration, land on the ground, lay in the grass and stop time for a while. If flying backward would allow me to slow the onward rush of time a bit, that could be an option... but it might take so much concentration and effort that I wouldn't be able to enjoy time on the ground. Rather than fly backward or rush on forward, what if I could land and rest a while, then journey forward?
Like doves on a telephone line, or hummingbirds on a stem, or swans stopping over at an isolated lake for the night. 


 

 I am grateful for the ability to be free, to express and dream and love. There's still so much I want to do and see. It must be okay, as long as I keep flying on.