So how we're going to begin is you're going to sit comfortably,
However that means to you.
It could be legs crossed,
Could be sitting in a chair,
Whatever it is,
Sit somewhere comfortably that you feel relaxed and comfortable and you're going to close your eyes and you're going to take three deep breaths.
Deep breath in,
Count to four,
Deep breath out,
Count to four.
And each time you exhale you're going to try and relax your body a little bit further.
So you're going to inhale,
Pause,
Exhale,
Pause.
So as you're doing this and you're relaxing it's in those pauses between breaths where we're going to go.
That is where your creativity meets your imagination,
Meets your subconscious.
So let's see what awaits you in the spaces between breaths.
The door hanging in the air beyond the cliff calls to you.
It is so arrogant floating in the air seemingly defying the laws of physics and yet there is something tantalizingly free about it,
Unrestrained by anything,
Not even gravity.
You walk to the edge of the cliff and peek over.
Nothing but blackness stares back at you.
This will take a leap of faith.
The door is far enough that you are not certain you can jump that far.
That and it floats a little above level with the ground,
Meaning you'll have to gain a significant vertical.
You swallow,
Your mouth has gone dry.
Real fear grips you.
What if you miss?
Turning your back to the door you walk slowly and count out ten paces.
You know you've already decided to leap,
You're just delaying the inevitable.
Turning you face the door,
Your runway laid out before you.
You take a deep breath in and let it out slowly.
Once more.
All you need is four seconds of insane courage.
You close your eyes and imagine a great bird,
Its wings spread out majestically.
It owns the skies.
You own the sky.
Your body feels somehow lighter and you focus your eyes on the door and you run.
Step after step you gain speed.
Someone watching from afar would see the faint outline of two great wings as your feet leave the edge of the cliff.
The world stands still as you sail through the air,
Arms flailing,
Legs flailing.
And just as you've made it the door swings open as if expecting you and you sail through untouched.
The cave is quiet once again.
There is a flash of light and the sensation of falling fills your stomach.
Then you were sailing through clouds of white.
You are blinded but you can taste moisture and salty air and then you are through.
Far below you can see the colors of a rich landscape laid out before you.
Green fields stretch for miles only briefly shadowed by the clouds above.
The meandering path of a river snakes its way through peacefully until emptying out into a larger body of water.
You realize you aren't falling anymore,
You are flying.
To your right and left great wings stretch out,
Bright red feathers flap in the wind decorated by blues and greens.
You are truly a beautiful creature as you sail through the air.
Tuck in your wings you point downwards and accelerate towards the water only to pull up at the last second and skim the surface of the water.
Below your reflection races alongside you desperately trying to keep up.
You cry out with glee as you angle upwards and suddenly you are doing cartwheels and loops in the air as you spoon and swoop untethered and free.
And suddenly the air moves abruptly and you were thrown off guard as a gust throws you off course.
Ahead of you a storm cloud looms rapidly forming vertically ahead of you.
The air quickly becomes turbulent and cold and you were thrown about wildly up and down as gusts of air catch your wings.
Over and over you tumble desperately trying to control your flight but not quite strong enough to muscle your way against the wind.
It is unpredictable and chaotic and you quickly grow tired.
Yet the storm cloud only grows stronger and darker.
You could try and turn back but somehow you know that this is where you must go.
Your wings begin to burn with weariness and you know that if you don't do something soon you'll be lost to the whims of the storm and nothing good will come of that.
Often it is at the point of exhaustion that we finally let go so we may grow.
Here in the skies before an angry storm you reach that point of exhaustion where you think you may be ready to give up and then it happens.
You relax.
Your mind takes over and you stop fighting.
You realize the wind is like a puzzle.
Although it is chaotic and angry this is precisely what makes it predictable.
You cannot control chaos,
You can only direct it.
You begin to see the currents.
They are like waves of an ocean moving through the air.
Now instead of fighting them you let your whole body relax and let your feathers do the work.
A slight nudge here and the current moves you forward instead of flipping you over.
A slight pull there and you accelerate with the wave rather than being tumbled by it.
Faster and faster the waves come and faster still your mind sees what needs to be done.
Your muscles are no longer a factor here.
You simply direct a nudge and slowly but surely you move through the storm.
Even when the rain comes you are not dismayed.
In fact it makes it easier to see the currents as the rain gives shape to the air.
At one point you swear you see a shape in the currents as if something is in here with you.
As you glide upwards the rain moves again and this time you see it.
The great head of a dragon moving within the storm.
It is large and terrible and as you fly towards the eye of the storm it bars your way.
Somehow you know that were you to fight it you would lose terribly and quickly.
But you don't fight it.
You surrender to the currents and thus render them powerless.
In response the great air dragon opens its great maw and you sail right through the middle of its mouth.
Oddly you are calm and thoughtful about this as if observing from afar.
Then you were through and you find yourself within the eye of the storm.
It is peaceful and quiet and the currents stop.
You have solved the puzzle by not warring against an unseen enemy but by understanding it and using its power against it.
This is the lesson here.
With a flick of your wing you re-enter the storm but this time the storm feels like it is in slow motion.
You see the currents before they arrive and you simply move to accommodate.
In this way despite the violence of the storm you resume your playful flying although at much greater speed.
The rain only adds to the exhilaration of this level of flow.
Your mind is in perfect sync with your body and you move through the storm as effortlessly as a sunny day.
The storm belongs to you now.
Up and down and spinning and sideways and flipping and whirling you move gracefully and purposefully until at long last the storm dissipates and your dance comes to an end.
Your chest heaves and your heart pounds in your chest.
You've never felt so alive or so free.
Without that freedom could you have let go?
Idly you wonder at the deeper philosophical implications of this.
The storm has given way to scattered clouds as the sun dips below the horizon painting reds and yellows across the sky.
It is a wonderful dream and when you see the silhouette of a door sitting on a cloud you know that your time here is at an end.
With one last loop you feel the air across your wings one last time and then you sail through back into the mountain.
As you land gracefully your wings fade to memory yet their power still hums in the back of your mind.
It is time once again to make a choice.
