Taking the 30,000-foot view

 

The earth is rotating into another season right now. 

 

It’s as if the sun is giving me a moment to take a longer look at things. 

 

Do you feel the planet getting itself into a new groove? 

 

I can usually take it in stride as I put on close toed shoes and go with it. 

 

Then I realize that it can come with space for taking the 30,000-foot view. 

New shoes and pulling way back to see how things look from up there. 

 

Up where, you ask? 

Take a look at this satellite.

Take a look at this satellite. 

This one is from the National Air and Space Museum.  

 

It hangs in the upper most reaches of the rafters there. Yet is nowhere near where it is found near the stars after being launched to do what it was made to do. 

 

If I take a moment to think about what it would be seeing from its original orbit, I begin to gain some thoughts about pulling back. 

 

Seeing how things might look from above where I sit today. 

 

It began for me when I was young and would tilt and twirl in a field. 

 

Then, when I was completely dizzy, when I couldn’t stand up any longer, I would lay flat on the grass and feel the world spinning around me. 

 

Do you remember doing this? 

 

I wonder if kids do this now. 

 

There was a sense of oneness, sameness and power that came with spinning at the same rate as the planets. 

 

Or that’s how it felt. 

 

Think back to when you thought you ruled the universe, my friends. 

Taking the 30,000-foot view was pure.

Taking the 30,000-foot view was pure and came easily. 

 

We all knew it was within our grasp. 

 

Standing up and looking at friends with a grin is what came next. 

 

Play was learning how to live large with joy and a spring in our steps. 

 

Seeing this satellite is what brought a few more things to me. 

 

Laying out on the grass in that other time brought me a way to look at things then and now. 

 

Being on the ground kept me in touch with the dirt and grass. 

It is what brought me back to my center as I looked up, around, then to those who were with me. 

 

Often my friends were doing the same thing. 

It was as if our bodies needed that ground to be still again. 

 

Before we bounded off and began the next adventure. 

 

Do I do that now? 

Am I able to ground myself before jumping into the next thing? 

Or am I endlessly taking off into my next orbit? 

 

It was something I realized that most things need, as I watched this satellite at a standstill. 

 

This is what I am sitting with today. 

I recently took the 30,000-foot view as I went through the journal.

I recently took the 30,000-foot view as I slowly went through the red journal that sits on a shelf in our home. 

 

It tells about a time when another kid was able to show when to lay on the grass, look up into the sky, and see things from another perspective. 

 

What a joyous time to pause at each page to be taught again. 

 

Perhaps you have a similar journal that you hold tenderly in your fingertips. 

 

Here is what I know now. 

 

You are able to gently turn a few pages in your book and look up. 

 

See what view comes into your space. 

 

It may feel like you need to pull back and pause. 

 

If that is the case, then you get to do exactly that. 

Wait until the spinning slows down.

Wait until the spinning slows down and then see who is next to you. 

 

Do you need to go find a new friend? 

 

I have been in that space, as well. 

 

Taking the 30,000-foot view can bring untold adventures, a journey through a new universe and also a few moments of being grounded as the next friend comes. 

 

We can also look up, around and to those who are with us. 

Find your shoes for the coming season, maybe there will be a dance!