Arms wide open

The little girl ran down the driveway, arms wide open. At the end, her father was waiting. He hugged and raised her up, both of them laughing.

It's an amazing experience, when you're young and someone lifts you up, up, up, so high up your innocent self cannot fathom life from such perspective. You fly, arms and legs straight out without having to be prompted. You fly in circles, daring in your adventure, ready to touch the tops of trees, of mountains, of clouds. You fly, securely held in the warm grasp of the hands you trust. You fly, spinning around the axis of those hands.

When young, flying takes a single leap of faith and unchallenged trust. It is all about the moment, the experience. It is round and circular, like the outline of an embrace. When you age, flying is very different. It becomes a long process, full of steps: planning, booking, packing, waiting, documents, usually uncomfortable spaces and/or unappetising food, more documents, more waiting, unpacking. And all that, with oftentimes little thought regarding the magnificent compendium of engineering an aeroplane really is; or the training of,  and responsibility on, the pilots, copilots, navigators, flight controllers, etc.; or the planning and coordination of the systems to handle constant take-offs, landings, and flight paths. The line is not gentle and as long as turns one chooses; rather, it is pointy, like an arrow, with a to and a from.

Clearly, part of that difference stems from both ignorance and innocence. A small life has had small experiences, and a small horizon of all the forces involved in daily life. A small life is ignorant because it is innocent. A grown up, on the other hand, is not innocent. Adults are aware, but choose to limit their awareness. They are not ignorant, but choose to ignore. 

However, I don't think it is a matter of nasty willful ignorance. Rather, the adults want to reconnect with the magic of that moment of being a child held high, when the discomfort of the caring hand digging into our flesh to prevent an accident disappears in the joy of the connection. When the fear and excitement are made possible by the faith in a protective love. When the warmth of a hug transforms into the chills of the wind in our faces.

It is not the flying we love, but the hug. The hug we know will envelop us as we return, as we encounter our friends and family.

We all want to run, arms wide open, for such a hug. We all want to fly, we all want to raise the others.

Whether you're staying home, or travelling, may you soar into many such loving arms.