Freefall

Happy Holidays, My Friends!
 
Our winter white stuff has been falling, falling, and falling. My yard probably has about 4 feet of snow and there seems no end to it. I've already shoveled the roof once. Today I go for round two. If these blog entries cease, come find me. Bring shovels!

Relax. This article is not about the stock market, housing prices, the auto industry or any one of the other related 2008 news stories. I'm not standing on any stump or soapbox. In fact, I'm much higher. I'm on the roof.

This winter thus far has brought one very big, delightful surprise, better than any Christmas present I could have imagined. In the middle of more snow than we've seen in many, many winters I've also taken delivery of a childhood dream. I've got a new game called “Jumping off the Roof,” and I'm going to do it as many time as I possibly can while we've still got snow. My ladder is propped permanently against the front of the house. At a moments notice, I can make a quick climb, spread my arms wide, and let go, just like those thousands of times I imagined leaping from the roof as a child.

The freefalls I'm indulging in this month are way beyond the ego and its censors. They are beyond the structures we create to contain things. They are intuitive, imaginative, whimsical, with just the right touch of childishness. My body and imaginations have taken flight.

Now I’d be fibbing if I told you I have a clue about what I will do with this December 2008 experience, if anything. I can barely make it into a sensible blog article. But oh, my freefall antics have broken through some internal barriers, inhibitions, and worst-case scenarios that have been building for awhile, allowing the child in me to bubble to the surface.

I bet this childhood dream of taking flight from the roof is pretty common. It seems to have sort of a Peter Pan or Mary Poppins flavor to it. If as a child you had similar longings of jumping off the roof and flying, come on over. I've got soft landings, at least until the snow melts. Dreams can come true.

"Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast." ~Lewis Carroll