September 18, 1998

I Believe I Can Fly

At my senior awards ceremony in high school, the choir sang, "I Believe I Can Fly." You know, that song from "Space Jam." The choir was quite upset, actually thrashfully angry as I recall, about having to sing it. It seems our vice-principal had ordered them to sing it.

I loved the song, though. It was appropriate for the moment. All of us there, ready to graduate in a few weeks-we were all set to fly.

Actually, I liked the song for another reason. I was always that kid who ran through the backyard with arms out wide and buzzing like an airplane. Yes, I leapt from furniture with a red cape on my back, but I never got off the ground. At least eighty percent of my childhood drawings had to be of flying cars, often looking more like blobs with propellers than the Shirt-Tales flying car.

I never outgrew any of that, even as I went into high school, for I would often daydream. I'd be some superhero, and via a jetpack or magnets or just mythical powers, I could soar through the air. I loved standing into the face of the wind, that being as close as I could ever get.

Maybe this belief explains who I am. I was always one to push myself, to go for the highest and never say never. If I ran at just the right speed, moved in the proper way, held every appendage and fold of skin at the accurate angle, I'd somehow manipulate the chaotic vectors and lift from the ground.

Then things changed. I went to college. I made strives, but also faced losses, many of them. They didn't feel like weights necessarily, but for the first time, there was a ceiling. Either I couldn't or I wouldn't push beyond the impossible.

Then I grew a goatee. That might not seem pertinent, but in the context of aerodynamics, I have a major drag coefficient on my chin. I've grounded myself.

Or perhaps, because I do sometimes look at birds and fly with them in my mind, I'm just challenging myself. If I can fly with this, then I can soar with the eagles every time, every where, every how.

But, for anyone who ever sees me clean-shaven again, they will be able to walk and know and say, "There goes a very happy man."

Comments:

• Per your advise, I did join your mailing list. I have been pleased with what I've read. It is truly a man just seeking a way to rant to others about whatever is on his mind. And I like it. It's one big collection of thoughts without beginning or end, and I like it. Do you get the feeling that I have a fondness for your daily bits of human thought? I did write, though, in response to your musing today about flight. I myself was also one of those kids who always shot the bad guy in one shot and could fly like Superman. What you wrote, however, reminded me of a short passage that I remember reading in Richard Bach's "Jonathan Livingston Seagull." It helps me see beyond whenever I think I've reached my limit. I would like to share that paragraph with you now:

  "Don't believe what your eyes are telling you. All they show is limitation. Look with your understanding, find out what you already know, and you'll see the way to fly."

  It helps in any problem. Just look at whatever problem youve got from the perspective of what you already know, and voila, you'll soon find your answer.

  I hope you find this quote as powerful as I did the first time I read it. If you haven't read this book, find a copy and read it now. If you've already read it, I'm sure you found the same love for it that I did. Thanks again Nick, for all you've done and are doing. I am proud to call you my friend.
  -- Zach M.