There have been gray days recently; the influx of clouds bringing rain and less pollen. I hear the sloosh sloosh of car tires on the street outside of our apartment building.
When I go out, I see the shock of pink petals, covering the ground and cars parked underneath the trees which are shedding them. Spring begins its turn into summer, with warmer weather and more chances of thunderstorms ahead.
As I’m out, I see the birds, flying low to the ground, the teeter totter of the larger birds flying higher, the wind buffeting them around.
I think about the small birds, their instincts telling them that sometimes, flying low, under the wind’s radar, and learning when to keep going in spite of it, is a judgment call.
Listening to the world around you. Listening to your own abilities. Are you in a place where you can stretch them? Or does flying low seem to be what you need in this moment?
Flying high is an aspiration for me. Yet, I am learning that sometimes, it’s more important to move from one point to another. That may mean keeping low.