Riding the Wind
Have you ever ridden the wind?
Have you ever gathered it up and been whisked away by it?
Has it ever moved beneath you and carried you merely by your thoughts
When the opposing wind moves into my face, I am breathless and overcome
by the power and majesty in my hands. I am free, and yet held
captive to it; drawn as a moth to the flame. My personal wind
rules the winds from the four corners of the world. All of my
senses are heightened by the power and glory of riding.
It most certainly could destroy me, but it has not. It is yielded
and offers breathless union to me. It too is caught up in the
glory and spirit of the dance.
I suffer an addiction to nature all around; especially addiction to the
wind and her glory. It's in my blood. I have the wind in my
veins. It is a restorative addiction. When I move with it,
it offers life, peace, and renewal. Victory, ecstasy,
mastery over all opposition.
--When Eagles soar, they do not flap their wings. They ride the
thermals. It is effortless. Soaring is knowing which way to
turn into the wind. The very winds that can knock the bird from
the sky, are the very winds holding it up. I can learn to be that
way when trouble comes. I try not to "flap" my wings. I
slow down, and ride the thermals.
For me riding a horse is as close to soaring like an eagle as I can get!