What glory is there in mundane living? Day-to-day toil, or relaxation, or any endeavor in between? Lilies of the field we are not. What then? We are not free like the birds of the air; we traded our wings for security. Gravity holds us, feet on terra firma. But are we too weighed down?
Maybe this is what my impulse to clear out, clean up, lighten my attachments, and lean down the possessions is all about. Stripped of heavy encumbrances we may fly more freely.
“If I had wings, no one would ask me ‘should I fly.’ The bird sings; no one asks why.” Paul Stookey
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