Taking Flight

Today is my 42nd birthday. I am sitting in the Denver International Terminal alone with a glass of chardonnay, a plate of fries, and my laptop in front of me. I have just finished the first leg of a journey that started a long time ago. Sometimes I wonder just how long ago. When exactly did my inner compass began pointing me in this direction? This wondering about my wanderings took ahold of me this morning as I was loading up the backpack I have borrowed from Charlie to serve as my carry-on to Uganda. A favorite passage from Wendell Berry's Jayber Crow suddenly popped into my head and I set aside my last minute packing to thumb through my favorite novel and find just the right page. I quickly ripped it out, folded it up and slipped it into the mix along with my hand sanitizer, airborne tablets, malaria meds, licorice tea packets, toiletries, journal, books, camera, family photos, phone, laptop, etc. That is where it remained until a few moments ago when I decided to re-gift it to myself. Happy birthday to me...

"If you could, I suppose, it would be a good idea to live your life in a straight line---starting, say, in the Dark Wood of Error, and proceeding by logical steps through Hell and Purgatory and into Heaven. Or you could take the King's Highway past approximately named dangers, toils, and snares, and finally cross the River of Death and enter the Celestial City. But that is not the way I have done it, so far. I am a pilgrim, but my pilgrimage has been wandering and unmarked. Often what has looked like a straight line to me has been a circle or a doubling back. I have been in the Dark Wood of Error any number of times. I have known something of Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven, but not always in that order. Often I have not known where I was going until I was already there. I have had my share of desires and goals, but my life has come to me or I have gone to it mainly by way of mistakes and surprises. Often I have received better than I have deserved. Often my fairest hopes have rested on bad mistakes. I am an ignorant pilgrim, crossing a dark valley. And yet for a long time, looking back, I have been unable to shake the feeling that I have been led---make of that what you will."

I, too, feel as though I have been led to this point. This is my pilgrimage, you might say. Or some mid-life rite of passage. Mom mentioned today that she decided to get her pilot's license when she was my age. Perhaps we both felt a need to spread our wings and fly. Make of that what you will.