A friend longs to begin
again
in a new place with a new
life.
We plan to meet for coffee
she wants to hear about
my experience
my fresh start
at the age of 51.
What can I tell her
about the short shelf life
or exhilaration of fresh starts
and new beginnings
beyond the fact
that life will always
follow us
wherever we go.
Still
she yearns to learn
how to fly again.
I don’t want to clip her wings
but
though we shop in a different
supermarket
find a new service station
and join a nice gym
date a handsome man
change our wardrobe
live in a new house
put on artsy dangly
earrings
like I did
a new beginning
is not created from these
things.
They might help us
try on who we want to
be
but the truth of the matter,
I’ll tell my friend,
while sipping coffee
trying not to discourage her dream
of a fresh start,
comes from
inside.
The funny thing is you
can’t conjure it up
at will
so much as
one day a fire
grows in your belly
and you notice that the old ways
you once journeyed
in life
have been outgrown.
I’m not certain
but I think it comes from
opening the door
to our heart
to things that can teach us
things that might even break us
wound our spirit for a bit
or make the ground seem
wobbly and uncertain.
You might not think so
but it’s the very tearing
apart, the clipping of wings
and not the relentless
building
of a life
or flying fast and aimlessly
that gifts
us with a new beginning.
and it is quite often not
what we had
planned.
I think when I meet my friend
after we find a quiet table and
order our lattes,
I’ll just listen
and if she asks me
how to begin
I’ll suggest she remain
curious
listen
take risks
sit in the unknowing
until
those things
crack open the door
to her heart
a little more each
morning
letting her spirit
the one with wings
slip back in without
announcement
or fanfare
and
she remembers
how to fly.
©RobinEnrightSalcido
