Hidden Wings

Things are a little nuts. Again. Or-- still.

Dan's laid off, Miss G needs minor surgery, one of our snakes died. We roadtripped to Phoenix, Miss G wants combat boots, Dan needs 3 crowns, health insurance runs out at the end of the month, and I just filed my last week of unemployment. Two of our good friends started dating each other (to our delight), Dan's back is jacked up so all house construction is on hold, and I started my own business. Sort of.

Yet with all of that, and more I'm sure if I sat down and really thought about it (but let's not, okay?), I feel cheerful instead of stressed. Excited, even. Challenged in good ways.

Times like this growing up, we dubbed "Mr Toad's Wild Ride" after the now-defunct Disneyland ride. Ever been on it? It's insane. There's never time to get used to one direction; the entire ride is an amalgam of blindsided jolts to somewhere opposite and unexpected. All while spinning. And various illuminated creatures popping out of the murk-- cheerful creatures, I think, but still. It's unsettling and breathtaking and easily the most memorable ride we went on.

The ice is thin all right. The winding road gets twistier pretty much daily. But underneath, I keep hearing my sister's voice in my head. Whenever I do something  that leaves little Peep round-eyed and awestruck (like, make stuffed animals sing 'Should I Stay or Should I Go'), my sister bends down and whispers to her:

"Auntie keeps her wings hidden."

And I think of this poem by Victor Hugo a friend gave me last year, which has become my lighthouse:

"Be as a bird
perched
on a frail branch
that she feels
bending beneath her,
still she sings,

sings,

knowing
she has wings."

And I think-- I can go any direction I want. Deep chasms hold no fear, if you have wings. Even hidden ones.